#kim seokjin snaps

[dirtykpopsnaps]

Here’s the request for Jin

[dirtybtssnaps]

Snap: Second time meeting

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver  requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

-

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too  wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

-

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

-

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

masterpost

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!

GIF by urmingirl

Masterlist, Latibule 2.II

Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

“Hyung, is it always like that?”

“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.

“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”

Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.

Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.

“What brought this on?”

“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”

Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.

He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.

“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”

Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.

“Why?”

“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”

“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.

“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.

Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”

To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”

“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”

Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”

 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.

“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.

“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”

The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.

He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.

And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.

One morning, it finally happened. There you were.

Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.

That was you, he was sure.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.

Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.

“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.

Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.

“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”

Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.

“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.

—-

Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.

Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  

Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.

Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.

So where was he?!

He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.

He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.

“At Seoul, hyung-“

“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”

“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”

Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“

His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.

There was you.

It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.

He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.

Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?

But no.

He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.

It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.

With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”

But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.

And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.

How did this happen to you?

Was it because of the incident?

Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?

Or did he miss all the glaring signs?

Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”

The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.

You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.

Until it did.

Until you understood each word written in that book.

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?

Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.

You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.

He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.

Part IV

[blackswan446]

yandere bts headcanons

yan!bts headcanons -- general

cws: mentions of blood, allusions to suicide, mild stalking, mentions of murder

link to m.list

note: i think these are a bit long for headcanons but enjoy anyways i promise im working on wips ily guys so much!! thank u for ur patience <3

kim seokjin ! december 4, 1992

seokjin was a lonely, lonely guy.

he never had any friends growing up. for some strange reason, the world just rejected the poor boy, and anybody that didn't totally oust him never stuck around for long.

he could never understand why. he was caring, he was polite, and handsome. so why did everybody hate him?

because of his unfair reality, it wasn't uncommon for seokjin to form a sort of...attachment...to those who showed him the slightest shred of humanity. you were no exception.

one day, a day that would, unbeknownst to you, shape the lives of two people.

seokjin was in your civics class. you never heard much from him, even though you sat right next to him. he was just there, floating in the background, until one day, he was shoved into your view.

it was exam day, and the snap of seokjin's pencil was amplified by the silent room. the young man scoffed in annoyance as the lead rolled away, onto the rough, brown carpet.

at first you almost laughed. not at his misfortune, really, but his reaction. it was like something from a sitcom, but of course you didn't laugh. laughing would be rude, and you were not rude.

taking a thin, pink, glittery pencil from your open pencil case, you wordlessly slid it across the smooth table, the wood making a long scratch sound on the wood. seokjin looked over at the sound, and when he met your kind eyes, and saw your sweet smile, that was it.

reaching out his slender hand to take the pencil, he gave you a smile of his own, a small one, but it was the most genuine one he had worn in months. his heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he picked up from where he left off in his writing. only now, he could barely remember anything, the information now blurred and fuzzy.

from then on, you didn't just sink into the background to him. you didn't blend in with the other mess of college students he saw everyday. you were vibrant, and interesting, and full-of-life.

every time you spoke, he listened as if it were the most intriguing thing he had ever heard. every time you walked, he watched you like a movie. whenever you wrote, he read it like it was a sacred text.

that's all it was, though. just an interested boy studying an interesting girl. he knew he was on thin ice, but never really grasped the thought of what would happen if it ever cracked.

until one day, when he decided then and there to dedicate his life to the subject.

"seokjin, did you get question twenty right? i got marked down for it, but i don't know what i did wrong."

your voice was soft, and curious, and delicately met met his eardrums like hands met fine china.

"i, uh" he stuttered, looking down at the exam paper. unfortunately, he hadn't done well at all on the exam. sometimes he got the feeling the professor had some sort of hatred for him. however, he did get question twenty right.

"yeah, i did. you can look at it, if you want to." he offered, outstretching the paper in his shaky hand.

you accepted, standing next to him and taking the corner of the paper in your hand as you read his answer.

seokjin's heart pounded in his chest. he had never been this close to someone before, the sweet aroma of your perfume and gentle touch on his arm making his mind go hazy.

you nodded. "i get what i did wrong. thanks, seokjin!" you smiled, patting his shoulder as you bounced away from him. he hoped you didn't see the pink blush on his face as you left.

it was over for him, his life as kim seokjin. from now on, he was yours, all yours, for you to love and ruin and coddle and ignore as you pleased.

from the moment your electric touch met him, is when the ice shattered and he took the plunge into the harsh, choppy waters of...love? or obsession?

he didn't know. the line between the two was thin, almost nonexistent, and the ink was smudged by the thunderous waves that crashed around it. but instead of drowning in the icy ocean that surrounded him, he tread the water and swam like a shark.

by far, his favorite thing to do was follow you around. everywhere, everyday, no matter what.

what was the harm? it was fun for him, gave him a look into the life of the one he loved, and he could keep you safe--even from afar.

although it did have its downsides. and of course, the pain was given to him by the hands of other people.

he wasn't a fan of the other people in your life, your piano instructor, your coworker, even the professor in one of your classes. they were too close to you for his liking.

but his perception was botched. he didn't like anyone within six feet of you, so naturally he was biased against everyone.

there were letters, a lot of letters. detailing his love, his devotion, his disdain for the people around you. left in your mailbox, your seat, even in your bag.

some were sweet, just toeing the borderline between cute and weird. but others were just plain graphic, claiming to be motivated by love.

one of them, he even adorned with his own crimson signature. he drew the blood from his left ring finger. after all, it was the wedding ring finger, and the only finger that connected straight to the heart. how fitting!

he also sent gifts -- if he ever saw you linger in front of a shop window, gazing wistfully at an expensive bag, or watched you poke through the selection of plushies in a bin, he would make sure it wound up on your doorstep.

you were confused at first, but as time marched on, your confusion slipped into something closer to fear and concern. but somehow, it still just felt rude to throw out the...loving...gifts that fell into your lap.

and you were not rude.

min yoongi ! march 9, 1993

poor, poor yoongi.

no matter how hard he tried, all get got from his family were demands.

to do more, to do better, to be better.

it was like nothing he could do would ever please them. whenever his fingertips brushed the standard set for him, the bar was raised, just out of his reach.

for a long time, yoongi tried to convince himself that he wanted what his family wanted, that he wanted to become a respected lawyer and take over his family's law firm.

it felt wrong to want anything else, after all, this role was shoved into his lap before he was even born.

but it was when he got to college that he came to terms with the fact that he was not, and would never be, what his family wanted him to be.

all his life, yoongi had been drawn to the sweet tunes of the ivy keys and soft hums of the guitar strings, rather than the scales of justice. it only started as one more activity for him to do, sanctioned by his parents, but it turned into a true passion for him. it turned into an escape.

though it was a very real dream, it was just one more thing that was out of reach for him. all that separated the two was a thin piece of unbreakable glass, the reality so close he could almost reach out and grasp it.

so he tried to move on, he really did, for the sake of himself, and his parents.

but when he was gifted with an opportunity to teach piano to other college students, how could he refuse?!

most of his pupils weren't serious about it. some felt obliged to be there, thanks to feelings put forth by other demanding parents. others just needed an extra graduation credit.

but you just stood out to him.

not because of your musical abilities (though your ability to pick things up so quickly did impress him greatly!)

but because of the way he could let his guard down around you.

you were a chatty thing, unlike most of his other pupils, and you didn't waste any time in asking him about himself.

it took him by surprise, as most of the people he tutored didn't bother to say much to him.

so he told you he wanted to be a musician, but that he was studying prelaw instead. your eyebrows knitted together, your eyes narrowing in confusion.

"but you're so talented. and you want to be a musician. why not just go for it?" you wondered, voice soft and genuine.

your question caught him by surprise. if he were to say something half as radical as that around anybody in his family, he would earn a lecture and a smack on the head. so it wasn't surprising that he had to take a second to formulate an answer that wasn't a defense.

"thanks, [name]," he sputtered, "i wish it were that easy." he sighed, busying himself with the music sheets in front of him. you giggled, the underlying poke in his words flying over your head.

and from then on, his guard was down. for the first time ever. and he just loved it.

maybe, just maybe, if he had gotten that encouraging word ten years earlier, things would be different. maybe he wouldn't have grown to crave it the way he did.

it started small. just a little flame in his heart whenever he saw your name on his schedule.

the flame only grew with each passing week. it wasn't enough, seeing you once a week, it wasn't enough to extinguish the blaze in his heart. he needed to see you every hour of every day.

but the fire within him turned from adoration to anger one night, when he spotted you laughing with a group of people he didn't know.

they were using you, he thought. for your looks, your kindness, your intelligence. he was the only one who really cared for you, he knew it.

so of course, with your well-being in mind, he did his own research on these people. it was just harmless -- he only collected their addresses, their phone numbers, their family members. just in case.

but with every session that went by, of just the two of you playing piano, he found himself falling further and further into this unfamiliar void.

and he decided that he was bringing you with him. there wasn't anybody else who would keep him safe from the demands of his family.

so what if you were afraid of the dark? he would bring you a flashlight. it would be good for you, he absolutely knew it.

he knew it wasn't enough to see you for an hour every week. it wasn't enough to give you the music he'd written for you, with its soft melodies and sweet tunes.

it wasn't enough for him to drape his arms over your shoulders as you played, "adjusting your hands" as your fingers brushed over the ivory.

it was never enough.

and when he saw a some boy think he could put his arm around your shoulder one afternoon, the fire burned so hot there was only one thing left for him to do.

the very next day, the boy walked around campus, his hands sore and fingers in splints.

that same day, you skipped into the music room, and as you were chattering about your week, mentioned your dear friend and his accident and his poor broken fingers.

"that's awful," yoongi muttered, seemingly shocked at the incident, "if i got into an accident like that, i don't know how i'd go on."

the boy wasn't dead yet, but at least he couldn't play you piano.

jung hoseok ! february 18, 1994

apollo himself.

that's what you thought the first time you saw hoseok. with his bright red hair, his pretty face and radiant smile, he was the brightest looking person you had ever seen.

he had been the first to welcome you to your new job, at a small convenience store down the street from your school. he had also been the one to train you, and soon became your closet friend at work.

he was happy, for sure. he was eager, and helpful, and oh-so sweet to you. being around him was like a boost of energy and a jolt of excitement.

"thanks, [name].." he said shyly, after you had told him all of this. "i think you're all of that and so much more." he admitted with a smile, before you were interrupted by the door opening.

he watched dreamily as you rushed over to help the customer, your words sticking in his mind like honey.

he meant what he told you. he wanted to tell you so much more.

that you were unlike anyone he's ever met. that you were the best friend he's ever had. that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and that he loved you, so so much.

hoseok had always been the floater friend. kind and caring to the point he was the backup plan.

he helped his friends while they were down, caught them when they fell, listened to them cry and complain and rant.

all the while, they rebounded from their troubles, and were back in the game, leaving hoseok there. just waiting in the back.

he thought he didn't mind, he thought he was okay with it. but he couldn't keep ignoring the toll it took on him.

but you were a breath of fresh air. truly unlike anyone he's ever met.

you mirrored him. you took the time out of your life to talk to him, and for the first time in a long time, he found himself answering the same questions he asked the people in his life.

and quickly the memories of late nights spent by himself, long walks down the street debating if this was really worth it, and empty bridges that seemed to beg the same question, were gone and out of sight.

he found himself craving it, your care, your questions, your answers, your love, your hate, your attention, in any way he could get it. he wanted your eyes on him.

and the more time that passed, the more intense his cravings became. so he did whatever he had to do to keep your attention on him.

it started as small things: swiping various snacks and drinks from the shelves for your break, killing the bugs that found their way into the store (he knew you were petrified of them), putting away the heavy boxes and stepping onto the ladders for you -- anything he could do to make you so enamored that you would forget about the world outside of him.

he knew his little addiction was getting serious when he found himself at the store under the cover of darkness, long after you had gone home, shoving bills from the register into his pockets and leaving just as swiftly as he had arrived.

he had to fund his...hobbies...somehow, didn't he?

after all, axes were expensive. so were tarps, and gloves, and garbage bags, not to mention the gasoline and matches.

as much as he wanted to, as badly as he wanted to take a blade to every single other person you had ever talked to, he had to be careful.

after all, if you found out your sweet, sunshiney coworker had done that to the man that had scolded you at the register that day, you would never want to see him again.

the mere thought was too much for him to bear, so he didn't bother thinking about it too hard -- he just did what he had to.

kim namjoon ! september 12, 1994

being a professor was no easy job.

sure, it put food on the table and allowed him to socialize, but sometimes the students were almost too much to deal with.

but there was one thing -- one person, actually, that made it all worth it.

it started on his first day, in a medium-sized civics class, full of students he assumed wouldn't take him seriously and would give him nothing but trouble and a headache.

you hadn't caught his attention right away -- sure, you were gorgeous, but he hadn't thought much of it, there were a lot of pretty girls here.

the thing that had first drawn him was rather trivial -- a small act of kindness towards another classmate, by giving him a bright pink pencil after his had snapped. sure, it was kind, and the first such act he had seen on campus before, but not earth-shattering.

but what really got him was that smile. it stopped him in his tracks, froze him in place, and wrecked him in ways he had never experienced before.

over the course of the weeks, it became evident that you stood apart from everybody else -- for one, you were smart. and namjoon was a professor, so of course he loved smart.

aside from that, you were a sweetheart. and you were polite, and helpful, and funny, and you actually participated -- so many things that everybody else he had in his classes wasn't, that it made him wonder.

what were you doing here? why were you hanging around with a bunch of nobodies when you were obviously so much more? it was clear that you were special, and that he was the only person around that could give you what you needed.

so the only logical solution to this is that he would take you under his wing. he would keep your focus on him and off of the halfwits, so they couldn't corrupt you too. he was going to keep you safe, like any good teacher should.

and soon enough, namjoon found himself in love.

it didn't take long for him to weasel his way into your life -- for someone so smart, you sure were trusting. that didn't bother him, though -- it only made things easier for him.

it started after a particularly long and boring class, when he pulled you aside and asked about your interest in impressionist paintings, eagerly telling you how he had overheard the conversation between you and a friend the day before.

you didn't even get a chance to agree before he pulled six papers from his rather messy and cluttered desk. what were they? three printouts of his favorite impressionist paintings, and three printouts of italian macchiaoli paintings that he thought you'd like.

it continued from there -- nearly every single class, he pulled you aside to show you something he'd thought you would like, or ask your opinion on an era of literature. sometimes he would even give you something to keep, like a book or pamphlet.

it wasn't long after he started chatting to you about romance languages and ancient poetry did his friendliness become favoritism, at least in his eyes.

it was just subtle things, really, like boosting your grades just enough to avoid suspicion, looking the other way if you were late, and making sure to call on you first in class discussions.

he knew there was a line, though, and he made a point to never cross it.

except for the tracker he had put into your phone, one day after he had collected it for an exam. he knew it was excessive, borderline stalkerish, but to him, it was necessary.

he couldn't have anything happening to his little genius, could he?

and obviously he knew exactly why the boy who you had given the pencil to, and who could now not stop ogling at you, had suffered a major academic crisis in his civics class.

but that didn't count. he couldn't help it if the line kept moving forward.

poor namjoon. the more time that passed, the more frustrated he got.

you were smart. how could you not see it? did you ever see him treating any other student the way he treated you? when was the last time he gave anybody else a book of victorian-era artwork, or a collection of unfinished poetry?

and what irked him the most was watching the same people he wanted to keep you away from be all friendly and close to you, while all he could do was pat your shoulder, smile politely, and stand on the sidelines.

namjoon was smart. he knew he wouldn't be able to settle for this much longer. sooner or later, he was going to have to act, for your good and his own sanity. it was wrong, and it was strange, but he couldn't help it. he needed more.

park jimin ! october 13, 1995

jimin was nothing short of a sweetheart.

your closest and dearest childhood friend, your story began at the park, when you saw him sitting on a swing, kicking the mulch around and looking alone.

being the little social butterfly you were, you skipped over, sat on the swing next to him, and started talking, and that was that.

you stuck together all throughout childhood, high school, right up until you both left for college.

"promise me you'll call? and text? and visit me?" he pleaded, his hands resting on your shoulders.

you nodded and smiled fondly. "all the time, mimi. just watch, you'll be sick of me in a week. i'll call you every day." you promised, leaning up to link your arms around his neck and hug him for the last time in what seemed to be forever.

you had kept your promise to him, he knew you would, but he couldn't help but feel empty. like there was a broken, gaping hole in his heart, causing the life to spill from his body.

he knew there was something brewing, feelings that were went beyond friendly, even beyond romantic. feelings that, if he expressed him, would make him seem so messed up that you would never speak to him again.

he had felt them for years, and deep down, he knew what they meant. but he ignored them. he looked away, shoved them out.

and that's what he would keep doing until there was absolutely nothing left for him to do anymore.

it wasn't easy for him, and hadn't been easy for a lot of years.

he was ever the romantic, but of course you didn't know that. his pure love and adoration appeared to you as nothing more than him being a good friend. but in reality, the only thing he was doing was getting as close as he could.

bringing you your favorite snacks when you hung out was as close as he could get to bringing you a bouquet of flowers and a love note everyday.

retelling childhood memories and embarrassing stories to make you laugh when you were sad was the closest he could get to holding you in his lap and rubbing your back until you felt better.

letting you test out makeup and skincare products on him in the store was as close as he could get to your face without pulling you towards him and kissing you until you couldn't think straight.

as innocent as he came across, he knew something more sinister lurked underneath it all. and he felt it stir, whenever you mentioned your professor and your shared love of the humanities, or your coworker who embodied the sun, or the barista at your local coffee shop who had mastered your favorite coffee.

it was like something else washed over him, something that ignited a blaze in his heart so hot that even he was scared of getting burned.

what was weirder is that jimin was usually so pure. for god's sake, he still put both your names into those cheesy internet love tests. he still gave you a family together in the sims. he still wrote your initials together, surrounded by a heart bubble and a sweet message on the corner of every paper he could find.

but the thing that took over his senses was the polar opposite. it gave him awful, twisted, murderous thoughts. it tormented him, day and night, knowing that something like that existed within him. it scared him.

and it only got worse when you broke the news that a mystery someone had taken a liking to you, and was showering you with gifts and notes and everything else a sweet girl like you could ever want.

that was when it took over completely. that was when something inside of him snapped, shattered, was torn to shreds.

he knew that he couldn't hold up anymore. this was his call to action. he had to do something, he had to act, and if he didn't, you would be gone forever.

he wasn't going to stand by. he couldn't stand by. not anymore.

kim taehyung ! december 30, 1995

taehyung was mystery. at least, to you he was.

he moved in to your neighborhood during your freshman year of high school, and not once in the last four years you lived there before college did you ever hear a word from him.

you didn't even know his name, let alone his age or school. from your guess, he was about your age, and based off the school uniform you had seen him in a few times, he went to some hoity-toity private school on the other side of town.

the only thing that you knew for sure were that his parents were strict. like, really really strict. they hardly let him out of his sight, and a few times you had walked past the house and heard them loudly lecturing him on the importance of studying and how he could have fun when he was established.

what you obviously didn't know was that taehyung was fascinated by you.

he had seen you within the first week he had lived next door, and something about you had him hooked.

you were fun, and loud, and had a lot of friends, and were the opposite of everyone else he had ever gotten to know. and of course, his parents lectured him about you, telling him to "stay away" and that you were "careless and a bad influence".

but he couldn't peel his eyes away from you, even if he wanted to. he just couldn't look away.

pure curiosity was the reason he started peering through your window when you were in there -- never while you were changing though, that would make him feel like a bad person. but as you laid on your bed, scrolled on your phone, hung out with friends, or listened to music, his gazed always traveled to you.

the reason he started was curiosity. but the reason he stayed was pure fondness. he came to love watching you, observing your habits and behaviors, almost like he was living his teenage dreams through you.

it was also the reason he started to become a bit more...active in your life.

nothing crazy, after all, he lived under a hawk's eye, and there wasn't a whole lot he really could do without being chastised for it.

he wanted you to know, though, he wanted you to know how much he really adored you. he would send you flowers, whatever was in season, and various goodies from cute online shops, sometimes even sweets from a fancy bakery, and putting it all under the name of an aunt he didn't even know if you really had.

although he couldn't be sure all the time, he was fairly certain his fake aunt persona was working -- judging from how you would go upstairs and happily open the package, taking out whatever was in there and excitedly showing it to your friends on video chat, he assumed you were none the wiser to the reality.

as time went on, though, he found himself increasingly unsatisfied with just watching you. like a viewer who wanted to live in their favorite tv show, he wanted to be in your life. and the fact that he couldn't do that pained him worse than anything he had ever experienced. so, he coped.

one night, clad in a black hoodie and mask, he silently slipped out of the backdoor without rousing his parents from their sleep. it was surprisingly easy, making him wonder why he hadn't done this in the past.

he crept over to your first-story bedroom window, peering through the glass. he couldn't make out much since it was so dark -- but he could faintly see your sleeping form, wrapped up in blankets and surrounded by plushies.

it was almost too easy, how he slid open the window and hopped in. his heart was pounding at this point, the thought of waking you almost scaring him into going home.

but he didn't. he stayed, tiptoed around your room, looked at your desk, which was cluttered with pictures of you and another guy, whom he recognized as a close friend of yours, and read through your school notes.

your handwriting was beautiful, he noticed, the swoops and curves of the letters looked more like ancient artwork rather than history notes. he felt a surge of excitement as he saw your white leather desk chair, the same one he had fondly watched you spin around in for what felt like hours on end.

he felt like a kid in a candy store, as he rifled through your other belongings, flipping through books and poking through your jewelry as he fought the urge to steal anything for himself.

just as he was just making himself at home in your room, you stirred noisily in your sleep, causing him to practically leap out of your chair and clamber back out the window -- but not before blowing you a kiss.

it wasn't the last time he would do that, in fact, nearly every night he found himself back in the warm embrace of your cozy room. it gave him a taste of not just your life, but the life of a normal teenager. the life his parents had robbed him of.

and he wanted more.

you left for college a week before he did. and the first night you were gone, he found himself at the now-locked bedroom window. an awful sense of dread bubbled up in his heart as he realized the reality: you were gone. he had lost you.

he vowed to himself that things were going to be different next time. that he was going to change. and that by the time next fall rolled around, neither of you would be going back to college.

jeon jungkook ! september 1, 1997

jungkook was young.

well, the youngest person that worked at the coffee shop. which was surprising, seeing as it was located right by a college campus.

his job was fairly robotic -- greet the customer, take their order, and make the occasional drink.

however, there was one really, really good part of his job, and it was the fact that he got to see and talk to you almost every single day.

the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the way you smiled and greeted him, your cool nails, your decorated wallet, everything about you intrigued him, made him want to see you more.

in reality, the only thing he knew was your name. other than that, you were a total stranger. so how could a total stranger captivate him in such a way?

he didn't know. he was just young and in love. and shy, which is why he refused to make the first move. he would never recover from a rejection like this.

but that didn't stop him from acting like he was your one and only. nothing could stop him from doing that.

and he fell hard -- so hard, in fact, it wasn't uncommon for him to wake up from a dream in which you had been the main character, or for him to think of you when he saw a cool bag or drank your favorite coffee.

but no matter how intensely he loved you, he had to accept the fact that to you, he was and would always just be the cashier from the coffee shop.

it didn't get to his morale, though. in fact, it motivated him. he was determined to stand out to you, to stay in your mind as much as you were in his, to the point where you couldn't take it anymore and would finally ask him out.

so he worked.

some of the things he did were innocent, like watching hours of youtube videos on how to craft your drink perfectly, slipping in a free pastry here and there, and even looking up love potion recipes online. of course he knew they weren't real, but that didn't stop the fantasy from playing out in his head.

and some were...a bit sly.

sometimes, he'd get to work a bit early, just so he could hide the ingredients to your favorite drink, which meant that when you came in and his coworkers were inevitably scrambling to find the ingredients for your order, he would get more time to hear your pretty voice.

he even started collecting the little things you left behind -- receipts with your signature, straw wrappers, even pocketing some of the coins you gave him to pay for your drink. these little artifacts lived in their own museum in his locker, which his coworkers just thought was messy.

but one day, something happened that made him realize he had to step up his game, or be miserable forever.

one day, you came in, except you weren't alone. there, in a place beside you which should have been his, there was a boy. his hair was a vibrant red, he wore colorful streetwear and had a smile that could only be compared to sunshine.

but he didn't care about that. who was this guy, and why was he with his girl?

tongue-in-cheek, and with a fake smile plastered on his face, he suffered through taking your order as normally as he could. but of course, he wasn't going to let this freak get away with something like this.

so as he prepared the drinks, he made yours perfectly, just as he had seen online. but for your little friend, he quietly slipped in a clump of salt, stirring it with the straw and handing them both to you with a smile.

he couldn't help the feeling of satisfaction that swelled in his chest as he watched the happy boy's expression contort into one of confusion and disgust with just one sip of the drink.

but later, on his break, he brooded over the incident. who was he? why was he with you? was he going to take you away? what if you never came in again?

as the thoughts swirled around in his head, it became obvious that something had to be done. he needed you all to himself, and it was going to happen by any means necessary.

[hamsterclaw]

Drift Kings

You and your brother Seokjin live completely separate lives, until one day when your worlds collide.

Pairing: Jimin x f! reader, Yoongi x f! reader

Genre: Drifting, street racing AU, smut

Word count: 9.5k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Explicit sex, swearing, mentions of drugs, cigarette smoking, illegal street racing

You know from the first time you lay eyes on Park Jimin that he doesn’t belong in your world.

He’s physically blessed, that much is obvious to anyone with eyes, but he’s all wrong.

His suit is beautifully tailored, but the material’s wrong. His shoes are expensive but in that modern, stylish way that screams new money.

You doubt any of the jewelry he has on is inherited.

He catches you staring, assumes it’s because of his good looks rather than that you’re finding him lacking.

He has the audacity to give you a once over of his own, like he has the right to judge you like you judged him.

You stay perfectly still, let him look.

You’re a Kim, and you’re used to people staring at you.

His lips curl in a smile that looks closer to a sneer.

‘You should wipe that sour look off your face, princess, before the wind changes.’

You’re too surprised to snap back at him, and a moment later, he turns away, like he’s the one dismissing you. 

You’re still staring at his back when Seokjin, your brother, arrives with Yoongi.

‘Were you waiting long?’ Seokjin asks politely, gesturing for you to go ahead of him into the private room he’s reserved for dinner.

‘Not long,’ you say, still thinking about the very beautiful man who’s just cut you down.

***

Seokjin, is as unmarked as he ever was, at least from what you can see whilst he’s dressed in a three-piece suit.

You’re glad.

Your brother’s always loved cars. When you were growing up, he spent every spare moment in Yoongi’s family’s auto workshop, similar to how you spent every moment in your father’s office, learning the ropes of your family business.

There was a Kim needed to take over the company, and thankfully, your family didn’t have any qualms about which Kim sibling it was.

A life in business would have killed your brother, totally unlike a life spent drag racing on Mount Samo, you think, uncomfortable with the irony.

If your parents were still alive, they’d probably have things to say about Seokjin’s lifestyle.

At least he’s always with Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

You sneak a glance at him over your plate as you eat.

Around you and Seokjin, his normally serious face relaxes into a smile, perfect teeth flashing often, eyes crinkled at the corners.

Your brother’s closest friend, you spent most of your teenage years swinging between a desperate crush on him and a desperate need not to be perceived by his intense, penetrating gaze.

Now that you’re older, the heat of your crush has settled into a burning ember he occasionally stokes by turning up when you meet Seokjin, all dark eyes and deep voice and the odd flattering comment that has the power to set your heart aflutter.

Apart from all that though, you know enough about Min Yoongi to know he’s got the heart of a hustler, and fierce loyalty to your brother. If your brother ever went down, Yoongi would be right there with him fighting to the bitter end. 

‘You look tired, sis,’ Seokjin says, dropping a dumpling onto your plate.

‘I’m just closing on a three year contract with the Moiwa group,’ you say, not denying it. You’ve been working on a lucrative partnership with the tech company for months, and you’re finally on the home stretch.

You’re not sure how much Seokjin knows about the family business, he rarely attends board meetings, like you’ve never seen him race.

Seokjin loosens his tie, wincing slightly as he does so.

‘How’s your collarbone?’ you ask.

Four weeks ago Seokjin had broken his collarbone and three ribs on Mount Samo. He hadn’t told you about it, but as you are each other’s next of kin, you’d found out anyway.

‘Healing,’ Seokjin says, making up for his brevity with a brilliant smile.

You know what they call your brother on the circuit. 

Chaebol. Often said with a sneer, despite the fact that he can put together an Evolution IX blindfolded and drive it in a way that credits all the tuneups he can afford to pay for.

‘I hurt my shoulder,’ Yoongi tells you, teeth flashing in the half-smile-half-snarl that makes you feel lightheaded when it’s directed at you.

‘I’m sure you have plenty of people to take care of it for you,’ you say, straightfaced.

Yoongi blinks, and his lip curls again. ‘Don’t you want to?’

You laugh. ‘Are you trying to be cute? It doesn’t suit you, Yoongi.’

‘Stop flirting with my sister, Yoongi,’ Seokjin interjects, distracting you from Yoongi’s pout.

He turns back to you. ‘Are you free this weekend? I was planning to visit Daejeon.’

‘I’m free,’ you agree.

Your parents’ graves are in Daejeon. You and Seokjin go a couple of times a year.

Your phone rings. It’s your PA, Daeun.

‘I should go,’ you say, apologetic. ‘It’s hectic right now at work.’

‘At least finish your food,’ Seokjin urges.

‘I’ll pick up something before I get home,’ you reply.

Seokjin frowns. ‘I’ll drop food off at your place.’

You smile. ‘I’ll see you this weekend, ok? Keep my brother out of trouble, Yoongi.’

‘And you stay out of trouble too,’ you add.

Yoongi throws you another grin. ‘For you,’ he promises.

‘This weekend,’ Seokjin says. 

Both men rise as you leave the room.

***

Seokjin wanted to drop by Yoongi’s workshop on your way to Daejeon, and you have to admit, it’s been a while since you’ve seen his crew.

Jung Hoseok, the angel-faced mechanic turned racer who has a smile and personality that can light up a room and drives like he’s halfway to heaven.

Jeon Jungkook, the youngest, a baby brother to all who of recent years seems to be trying his hardest to hide the facts of his pretty face and endearingly cute little shit personality, by getting tatted and pierced and wearing exclusively black.

There’s an unfamiliar person though, and as he turns to greet Seokjin upon your arrival, you realise it’s the beautiful man who sneered at you in the restaurant.

‘Y/N, this is Park Jimin,’ says Seokjin.

Park Jimin gives you a smile that makes you long to slap him.

‘We’ve met. Turns out, I wasn’t far off when I called you a princess.’

His comment makes your hackles rise.

‘I wish I could say it’s a pleasure,’ you say coolly. 

‘How did you meet?’ Seokjin asks.

‘It was at the restaurant that night,’ you tell Seokjin, trying to shut down the line of questioning.

You turn to Yoongi, who’s leaning against a workbench, watching the whole exchange with a bemused look on his face.

‘I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like Y/N,’ Hoseok remarks, kindly. ‘It must be your fault, Jimin.’

You laugh. ‘I’m sure I have a lot of enemies, Hobi.’

If Seokjin’s the chaebol racer, and Yoongi’s the drifting king, you’re the ice princess of Cheongdam-dong. 

You’re well aware that your family’s laissez-faire attitude to succession isn’t necessarily shared by all. You’ve grown so weary of the misogyny in your society that it barely even registers to you, now. You learned long ago to apologise for daring to carry on your family business lineage. 

You completely miss the look that passes between Seokjin and Yoongi.

‘I’ll be back by nine,’ Seokjin says to Yoongi.

That gets your attention. ‘A race?’

‘We’ll look after him,’ Jungkook assures you sweetly.

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. ‘Who’s going to look after the rest of you?’

***

Seokjin parks the car, cuts the engine. 

You unbuckle your belt, and you both walk around to the trunk to get the flowers you brought.

Seokjin asks, casually, as you walk down the path to your parents’ graves, ‘How’s work going?’

‘Still busy,’ you say, shading your eyes against the brightness of the afternoon sun.

‘The deal came through,’ you tell him. ‘I spent most of last night celebrating with my team.’

‘Congratulations,’ says Seokjin. He’s had the foresight to put on sunglasses, you can’t see most of his face.

‘Thanks,’ you reply. ‘How’s the Supra coming along?’

Seokjin and Yoongi are working on tuning up a fourth generation Supra for a client from Hong Kong.

‘It’s coming along,’ Seokjin says. He smiles wryly. ‘Jungkook keeps asking if he can ‘road-test’ it.’

You laugh along with him. 

‘Yoongi says he’ll let him if he can rebuild it after,’ Seokjin continues.

You know Jungkook’s talented, but he’s not as skilled as either your brother or Yoongi.

‘You can come watch the race tonight, if you want,’ Seokjin offers. 

He’s never invited you before.

‘Sure,’ you say.

‘We’ll head off when we get back,’ Seokjin says. 

You’ve reached the graves.

Seokjin kneels down to lay the flowers on the ground. 

You wonder if it’ll ever get easier.

***

You’re sitting in a corner of Yoongi’s workshop, watching as Seokjin and his crew get ready.

The atmosphere’s crackling with anticipation, a wild energy that has adrenaline thrumming through your veins. 

Seokjin and Yoongi are hunched over the popped engine hood of Yoongi’s Nissan GT-R, talking quietly. 

Jungkook and Hoseok are roughhousing by the workbench. Jungkook’s dressed in black leather and motorcycle boots, a chain round his neck, and you wonder, again, when the maknae started to become such a menace.

Jimin’s sitting on the raised walkway over Yoongi’s workshop, arms on the railing, feet dangling off the edge.

He catches you looking at him, and the slow smirk that spreads over his face is, to your chagrin, equal parts infuriating and attractive.

You can’t deny it, he’s not your usual type but he’s so fucking attractive you almost can’t stand to look at him.

His blond hair is styled back, a stray lock falls across his brow as he stares at you, almost in his eyes. His full lips are curved, smile lines crinkling the corners of his eyes.

The way his jacket’s lifted, with his arms braced on the railing, shows off his flat stomach, the plain t-shirt he’s got on doing nothing to hide how cut his torso is.

Beside you, Seokjin clears his throat. 

‘You can ride with me,’ he says. He glances up at Jimin as he speaks, and you wonder how long Seokjin was watching before you noticed.

***

You’ve been in Seokjin’s Honda before, but never on a race day.

The interiors are black leather, he’s modified the sound system, of course, but most striking to you is the way the engine vibrates with power, even when he’s driving the speed limit en route to Mount Samo.

Up ahead, Yoongi’s leading the convoy. You’d glimpsed the flash of his grin as he’d cut Seokjin off at an intersection a couple miles back, and the barely leashed ferality of it had made you fantasise, for the umpteenth time, about sleeping with him.

Bringing up the rear are Jungkook, Hobi and Jimin, keeping tight on Seokjin’s tail.

You look around with interest at the cars idling at the summit when Seokjin slides smoothly into a spot next to Yoongi.

Seokjin cuts the engine, and you get out.

You’d expected Seokjin to get a reaction, your brother is striking even when he’s not driving a midnight black Honda, crimson racing stripes cutting the car in half lengthways, but to your surprise, there are an equal number of eyes on you.

Yoongi’s lit a cigarette, the glow of the lit end reflected in his dark eyes as he moves over to make a space for you next to where he’s leaning.

Smoke curls around your face as he asks, polite as ever, ‘Do you mind if I smoke around you?’

‘I don’t,’ you reassure him. 

Yoongi nods. ‘I usually just have the one.’ 

His lips curl. ‘Then another when I win.’

Seokjin says. ‘Jimin will drive you back down when he’s scouting. We’ll see you at the bottom.’

‘Scouting?’

‘For police,’ Seokjin explains. 

You look at him sharply.

‘If you want, Jimin can drive you home right now,’ Seokjin offers.

It occurs to you then, just how separate yours and Seokjin’s lives are.

Yours is a world of meetings, boardrooms, euphemisms for what one really means.

And Seokjin’s is this, nighttimes and headlamps so bright they light up the city, and a physical rawness you never see.

Your brother looks chaebol but inside? He’s this.

‘I’ll stay,’ you say. ‘Good luck.’

Seokjin’s gaze lingers on you, but he doesn’t say anything else.

When Jimin arrives Seokjin takes him aside. They have a conversation you can’t hear, they’re several feet away and Hobi’s trying to show you pictures of his new puppy.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere, the deafening roar of engines, blinding lights as three new cars arrive.

One looks like it’s heading straight for your brother’s Honda. 

You tense as it approaches at full speed, screeching to a halt barely a foot from the front bumper.

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, and beside him Yoongi straightens up, grinds the remnants of his cigarette to ash under his boot.

‘Who’s that, Hobi?’ you ask, as the driver gets out.

He’s tall, like your brother, good looking in a flashy way, and the way he stares at your brother as he approaches makes your skin crawl.

There’s a tattoo running up the side of his neck, next to a jagged scar.

You slip past Hoseok and go to stand next to Seokjin.

‘Hyunjin,’ Seokjin says, neutral.

Yoongi just stares back, lip curled in a sneer.

‘Seokjin,’ the man replies. ‘Ready to be driven off a mountain?’

You tense, and Hyunjin’s gaze shifts to you.

‘I’ll be waiting for you at the bottom,’ Seokjin replies, but Hyunjin barely reacts. 

He’s still staring at you.

‘Who’s this?’ he asks.

‘The person who’ll make you pay if you do anything to my brother,’ you snap.

He raises an eyebrow, gaze shifting between you and Seokjin thoughtfully.

‘You must be the ice princess. I didn’t think you’d be quite this pretty. I guess Seokjin keeps you hidden away for a reason.’

‘Shut up,’ Yoongi growls, as Seokjin shifts so he’s in front of you.

You realise Jungkook and Hoseok are behind you.

Hyunjin just laughs.

‘I’ll see you at the bottom, princess. If I beat your brother can I have a kiss?’

Seokjin says, voice low and even, ‘What about winner gets the loser’s ride?’

Your eyes widen. You know how many hours Seokjin put in on his car in Yoongi’s workshop.

Hyunjin scoffs. ‘I’m going to enjoy driving your car.’

He gives you another long look, and then he’s turning on his heel.

‘Go with Jimin,’ Seokjin says, glancing at you. ‘I’ll see you down there.’

You’re hesitant. ‘Seokjin —- that guy —-‘

‘Don’t worry,’ Seokjin says. ‘I’ll beat him.’

His expression softens.

‘It’s not my first race,’ he reminds you gently.

You realise Jimin’s got his car pulled up next to you, door open, waiting.

‘Good luck,’ you say, still uncertain.

Seokjin nods, waits until you get in the car, closes the door after you.

***

Jimin drives in silence, navigating the hairpin bends that make Mount Samo a drifter’s dream with a competence that makes you wonder why he’s not racing himself.

‘Is my brother going to be all right?’ you ask, plaintive in the quiet of the car.

Jimin doesn’t answer immediately, and you’re wondering if he heard you when you catch him looking at you in the rearview mirror.

‘Your brother will be fine,’ he says finally. ‘We’ll wait for him at the finish.’

You’re thinking about the way Hyunjin sneered at Seokjin.

‘Is it always like that?’ you ask.

Jimin takes his time answering this question too.

‘Seokjin and Hyunjin have a history,’ he tells you. He turns to you briefly.

‘You should ask Seokjin about it.’

‘Have you known Seokjin long?’ you ask.

Jimin glances at you again.

‘Not long. We started working together a few months ago.’

‘Do you race?’

‘Occasionally.’

‘Are you any good?’ you ask. 

Jimin changes gears, slows to a stop. 

‘Never good enough for you, princess,’ he says, flicking his gaze at you. 

You feel chastened. It’s fair enough, you know that you can be a snob. It’s a learned behaviour, from your years trying to prove yourself as leader of the Kim conglomerate, but Jimin wouldn’t know that, and you doubt he’d care. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. 

Jimin parks the car, turns up the music. He glances at the clock on the dash. 

‘Your brother’ll be down in twenty minutes. We’ll have an extra car to drive back - which is why Hobi and Jungkook rode together on the way here.’ 

‘The wager,’ you say, a question. 

‘The wager,’ Jimin confirms. 

‘It was all planned then?’ 

Jimin laughs, short. ‘Hyunjin’s predictable.’ 

He glances in the rearview. ‘I’ve never seen anyone drift like your brother.’

You’re processing this when he says, referring to your apology, ‘It’s fine. I’ve been nothing but a dick to you since we met.’ 

‘Are you any good at your job?’ Jimin asks.

There’s the faintest hint of taunting in his voice. You can’t blame him in all honesty.

You decide to tell the truth.

‘I’m inexperienced but I have a good team.’

You look out the window.

‘I don’t have a problem carrying responsibility. Out of the both of us, I was the better choice. Corporate life would have killed Seokjin.’

You press a thumb to your temple, massaging the tension headache that’s threatening to come away.

The silence in the car is deafening. 

You glance at Jimin.

He’s staring at you, unreadable.

‘I’ll wait outside,’ you say. 

You push your door open and step out into the cool darkness of the night.

A light rain starts to fall.

Behind you, Jimin gets out of the car. A moment later he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric warm from his body heat.

All he says is, ‘They should be here soon.’

***

Your heart accelerates when the gleam of headlights cuts through the dark.

The rain’s stopped but the tarmac of the road still glistens with wet.

You can’t see who it is, blinded as you are.

The car comes to a smooth stop not six feet from where you and Jimin, and a handful of others, are waiting.

The door opens as your vision begins to adjust, and your brother steps out. 

He looks around, spots you and Jimin, lifts his hand in a wave like butter wouldn’t melt.

There’s a wave of cheering, drowned out by the roar of Yoongi’s Nissan as he cruises past, stops a little way past your brother’s car.

You don’t even notice when Hyunjin and the rest of the racers arrive, caught up as you are in the overwhelming wave of relief that your brother and Yoongi are all right.

You lose Jimin in the crowd that surges forward, eyes only on your brother as Hyunjin tosses keys on the ground at his feet, disgusted.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You check it distractedly as you head for Seokjin. 

It’s an unknown number. 

You’re swiping to answer when you collide with what feels like a brick wall.

You’d be off your feet if an arm hadn’t curled around you to steady you.

You look up into Hyunjin’s face.

‘Where’s my kiss, princess?’ he asks. His grip around your waist feels like steel.

You lean back. 

‘I don’t remember promising you one,’ you tell him, bringing your arms up against his chest, trying to put more distance between you.

He laughs, holds tighter, starts walking you backwards.

‘Get off me,’ you warn. 

‘Or what?’ he asks. ‘You gonna call your brother to come save you?’

‘She’s got more than one friend here, actually,’ comes a voice from behind you.

You turn to see Jimin, hands loose by his sides, expression hard.

‘She asked you to get off her,’ Jimin points out.

Hyunjin’s hand tightens painfully around your wrist for a heart stopping moment before he scoffs and drops it.

‘Maybe next time, princess,’ he says.

He leers at you as he steps away.

‘Are you ok?’ Jimin asks, nodding to your wrist.

‘I’m fine,’ you say automatically, despite the throbbing in your wrist. You’re used to showing no weakness. 

Seokjin and Yoongi have reached you. 

‘What happened?’ Seokjin asks, an edge to his voice.

‘We saw that fucker head straight for you,’ Yoongi says. The feral spark’s back in his eyes, he looks like he’s spoiling for a fight.

You tug the cuffs of Jimin’s jacket down over your wrists.

‘Nothing happened,’ you say.

Seokjin doesn’t believe you, you can tell, but you don’t want to talk about it.

Finally, he says, ‘I’ll drive you—‘

‘I can drive you home,’ Jimin says. ‘It’s on my way.’

***

You sit in the passenger seat of Jimin’s car, waiting as he grabs something from the trunk.

He gets in, tosses a heat pack into your lap.

‘He grabbed you pretty hard,’ he says. ‘You can use that if you feel sore.’

You look at it for a moment.

‘Thanks.’

‘I’m sorry I lost you for a moment there in the crowd,’ Jimin says, shifting the car into gear as he pulls out onto the road.

‘I’m not a kid,’ you say.

The heat pack feels nice. 

‘You’re definitely not a kid,’ Jimin agrees.

His gaze flicks over you, so quick you wonder if you imagined it.

‘You don’t even know where I live,’ you say, with a flicker of amusement. 

‘I’ll drive you anywhere you want,’ Jimin replies. 

For the first time, he smiles at you, lips curving, eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Where do you want to go, princess?’ 

***

Your back’s against the front door of your apartment, your head thrown back as Jimin presses heated kisses to your neck. 

He’s beautiful, dark eyes and gleaming skin, you keep wanting to watch him but he’s kissing you so well it’s hard to keep your eyes open. 

He’s got one hand under your top, smoothing circles over your skin, the other curled over your ass, squeezing your flesh. 

‘Jimin,’ you breathe, your hand braced on his shoulder, fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.

‘Yeah,’ he murmurs, silvery voice making you tingle. ‘Touch me, if you want.’

You slide a hand over the hardness of his torso, feeling the ridges of his abs, the tautness of him. 

Skin over muscle over bone.

He’s hard all the places you’re soft.

You can’t stifle a moan as he rolls his hips against yours. 

‘Where’s your room,’ he grunts, pulling a whine from your lips as he lifts his own lips from your skin.

You point, and he knits his fingers with yours, tugging you with him as he heads for your bedroom.

The door closes behind you, and in front of you, Jimin shucks his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

His beauty stops you in your tracks.

Jimin grins. He tilts his chin at you, all golden skin and bright eyes.

‘Stop staring,’ he says, bold, ‘and take your clothes off.’

You can feel your skin heat as Jimin fixes his gaze on you, watching as you fumble with the buttons on your blouse, undo the fastening on your jeans.

You can’t meet his gaze when you’re in your bra and panties.

Jimin takes two steps forward, dropping his own jeans.

You’re still looking down, so the bottom half of him comes into view first.

The waistband of his boxer briefs, stretched over taut skin, the very obvious bulge just beneath. Thighs so muscled your own thighs tighten against each other.

He lifts your chin gently so you’ll look at him.

‘Why so shy, princess? Look how hard I am.’

He doesn’t wait for a reply, lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s surprisingly gentle.

He walks you backward onto the bed, takes a moment to look at you laid on your sheets. His hand strokes over his rigid cock once, then he’s lowering himself on top of you.

He’s gentle, but you can feel the coiled power in his muscles as he grinds himself into the softness between your legs.

‘You really are a princess,’ he murmurs into the dip between your breasts, so lightly you know he’s just teasing.

He kisses the round of your breast, tongue flicking around your areola tantalisingly until you’re soaked, your hips seeking friction against his hardness.

‘Jimin,’ you plead, maddened with arousal.

‘Don’t worry,’ he soothes. ‘I’ve got you. Panties off.’

You lift your hips to pull your panties down.

There’s a rip of foil, a barely suppressed groan from Jimin as he unrolls the condom onto himself. 

He positions himself above you, slides into you like he’s been doing it his whole life, and you moan, eyes squeezing shut at the stretch of him.

‘You like that?’ he asks, silvery voice deep now, breath hot against your skin.

‘Yeah,’ you cry.

He props himself on one arm, rolls his hips against yours.

‘Fuck,’ he groans.

He picks up the pace, eyes on you, flicking between your face and how he’s making your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts. 

He’s glistening with a sheen of sweat now, hair flopped over his face, damp. 

‘Look at you, princess,’ he murmurs, voice dropped low, breathless. ‘Look how well you take me.’

He flattens a hand over the curve of your lower belly, thumb flicking over your clit, purposeful, firm, making the pleasure build. 

Slows, lifts your hips so he can fuck you deeper. 

The curve of his cock hits so good you’re crying out with each rock of his hips against yours. 

You come with a gasp of his name, and Jimin drops down on you, grinding, hips working. 

‘Fuck,’ he groans, deep in his chest. ‘Take it, baby.’ 

You wind a hand around his neck, and his lips meet yours again, tongue licking into your mouth as he fills the condom. 

‘Shit,’ he groans, pulling out, knotting off the condom, tossing it carelessly. 

You’re breathless still, heart hammering in your chest, but you sit up, admire how he looks sprawled out on the covers of your bed, flushed and glowing. 

‘You were right, you know,’ Jimin says. 

He’d been looking up at the ceiling, but now he flicks his gaze at you. 

‘You’re too good for me.’ 

You scoff. ‘Shut up. I never said that.’ 

Jimin laughs. ‘I didn’t say it was going to stop me from pursuing you.’ 

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Pursuing me?’ 

‘I said what I said,’ Jimin says. 

He sits up, muscles flexing, hair pushed back. He drops a kiss on your exposed shoulder, teeth flashing as he follows it up with a playful nip. 

As you’re getting up, picking up your clothes, you notice a flash of gold half-out of the pocket of his jeans. 

You lift it out, curious. 

Jimin says nothing as you rub your thumb over the gold badge, turn it over to see his ID. 

‘You’re a cop,’ you say. It’s not a question, you have the proof in your hand, but it comes out querulous anyway. 

‘I’m a cop,’ Jimin replies. 

You’re trying to process. ‘Does my brother know?’ 

‘Seokjin knows,’ Jimin says. 

He gets up, starts getting dressed too. 

‘It’s illegal to race on Mount Samo,’ you say. 

‘I’m undercover,’ Jimin tells you. He reaches for his badge, and you let him take it out of your loose grip. 

‘What are you investigating?’ you ask. 

‘Currently, your ass,’ Jimin says. 

You crack a reluctant smile. ‘Could have told me you were a cop before we slept together.’ 

‘I usually wait for a second date before I get the handcuffs out,’ Jimin shoots back. 

You laugh, but your mind’s still racing, wondering why Jimin’s hanging around with your brother and Yoongi.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts it takes you a moment to realise Jimin’s watching you.

‘I should get to bed,’ you say, feigning a yawn. ‘I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’

Jimin asks, quietly, ‘Is there anything you want to ask me?��

You’re troubled, but you force a smile. 

‘I’ll save my questions for when I’m less tired,’ you say.

Jimin’s got his jacket on, you’ve both moved out of the bedroom.

He says, ‘I’d like to see you again.’

Your smile becomes a little less forced. 

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

Jimin looks like he wants to say more, but all he does is nod, flash you a smile before he leaves.

The click of the latch falling into place as he pulls the door to sounds oddly final. 

***

You’re tired.

You’ve been in and out of meetings all day. On top of that there’s been a problem with the city planning committee over the new property you’ve just acquired.

It was a hard fought battle but you’d managed to pip your competitor, Jungcorp, to the post. You’re not sure why Jungcorp had fought so hard for it, it’s an abandoned tower block in an unglamorous part of the city, but the land’s invaluable to you for development.

As far as you know Jungcorp’s got no vested interests in property development. 

You look up, exasperated, as there’s yet another knock on your door. 

It’s past 8pm, your feet are sore and all you want to do is go home and take your bra off, if you could only just finish reading and sign off on the city planning committee’s requirements.

Plus you thought you’d sent everyone from your executive team home. 

Your frown softens when you realise it’s Jimin.

You’ve been texting back and forth since you hooked up, he’s called you a few times, but you’ve been too busy to meet.

‘How’d you get in here?’ you ask, getting up to greet him.

‘I’m a cop, remember?’ Jimin says. He looks as pretty as ever, dressed all in black, silverware in his ears.

‘I have security,’ you point out.

‘Jaebeom?’ Jimin asks, feigning innocence. ‘We used to work together.

You roll your eyes.

‘I thought you wouldn’t mind me dropping by unannounced like this,’ Jimin says, ‘because I brought food.’

He brings his arms round from behind his back to reveal a bag of food that makes your stomach growl, loudly and ungracefully.

‘When did you last eat?’ Jimin asks.

‘I had a protein shake for lunch,’ you say, eyeing him as he sets out boxes of noodles. ‘They’re apparently a complete meal.’

It’s Jimin’s turn to roll his eyes.

‘Prawns or chicken?’ he asks, holding out chopsticks to you.

You reach out and grasp his hand instead.

‘I’ve missed you a little,’ you say, tugging.

Jimin lets you pull him closer. ‘Yeah? I’ve missed you a lot.’

He’s close now, head tilted to yours, face barely inches away.

‘A lot?’ you ask, staring at his lips.

‘Yeah.’ His voice is husky now, and he dips his head to yours.

You meet him more than halfway, lips already parted.

Jimin’s hand curls around the back of your head as he slants his own to kiss you deeper.

‘I lied,’ he murmurs, crowding you against the edge of your desk.

‘I didn’t just come to bring you food. I came because I knew you’d look fucking sexy in your work clothes.’

He kisses you again, hips pressed against yours, hand slipping down to cup your ass.

You slip your arm around him, sighing a little as he kisses you, lips warm and sweet.

‘Eat, before we get distracted,’ Jimin says, pulling away.

You whine, disgruntled, but he’s insistent.

The noodles are hot, tasty, satiating the hunger you’ve been suppressing all day.

‘Thanks,’ you say, as Jimin gets up to clear away the food.

You’d help, but it’s the longest break from work you’ve had all day, and now that you’ve sat down on the comfortable sofa you’re not sure you can muster the willpower to get up.

Jimin looks at you knowingly.

‘Want a ride home?’

‘I should probably get back to work,’ you say, regretfully.

Jimin says, ‘You look exhausted. Here, I’ll take you home.’

You find yourself picking up your things, letting Jimin help you on with your coat, following him to the lifts.

Jimin curls an arm around you, and you lean into him as you wait for the lift.

He smells good, but more than that, he feels good, solid, his shoulder corded with muscle under your cheek. 

‘You can lean on me,’ Jimin says. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but he holds you tighter when you try to pull away.

In the car, Jimin leans over to help you fasten your belt.

‘I can do it,’ you say, but he just smiles. 

‘I said you can lean on me,’ he tells you. He starts the engine, puts on soft music, a lo-fi beat. 

‘Sit back, princess. I’ve got you.’

You want to tell him to stop calling you princess but you’re so comfortable and warm the words won’t leave your lips.

You blink awake to find that Jimin’s parked outside your apartment building. 

‘Sorry,’ you mumble, trying to orientate yourself. ‘Did I sleep the whole way?’

‘You talk in your sleep,’ Jimin tells you. 

Now you’re fully awake. 

‘What did I say?’

‘I didn’t know you liked my ass that much,’ Jimin says, thoughtfully. 

‘What?’

He laughs. ‘Go to bed, princess. Want me to walk you up?’

‘I’ll be all right,’ you tell him. You hesitate, hand on the door handle. 

‘Thanks, Jimin.’

‘Anytime, princess.’

He waits until you’re inside the doors before he drives away.

***

Yoongi rolls himself out from under the body of the Subaru he’s working on just as Seokjin approaches. 

He stares at the pictures Seokjin hands him, jaw tightening, anger sparking, hot and bright, within him.

‘Does she know?’

‘Jimin says she doesn’t seem to know,’ Seokjin says, voice low, furious.

Yoongi hands him back the pictures, lip curled in disgust. 

‘I think you’d better fucking tell her,’ he says. 

‘It’s not just that,’ Seokjin says. ‘I got this, too.’

Yoongi listens to the recording on Seokjin’s phone, swears.

‘Shit, that asshole’s asking to be fucked up.’

‘Call the guys,’ Seokjin says, voice hard. ‘We get her and then we show him what happens to people who fuck with us.’

***

You’re hurrying, running late. You’re meeting a client from Norway in the busiest part of the city at 7pm sharp.

You glance at your watch just as the light goes green at a multiway intersection, watch the numbers indicating how long you have to cross tick down as you walk briskly across the white stripes on the road.

There’s a thunderous roar, a wave of screams, and the throng of people crossing with you disperses rapidly as you look around to see where the noise is coming from.

The crowd’s clearing, but you stay where you are in the middle of the intersection because you recognise the midnight black Honda with the red racing stripes heading straight for you, the sleek silver Nissan keeping pace alongside it.

Your brother drives slightly past you and executes a 90 degree turn so his car’s across your path, lengthways, tyres screeching.

The acrid smell of burning rubber fills your nostrils, but you almost don’t notice it, because three other cars surround you in quick succession, boxing you in.

To your left, Yoongi, dark eyes scanning you as if to assure himself you’re unharmed.

To your right, Hobi, his face more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

Behind you, Jimin, a shadow behind his blinding headlights.

Seokjin leans across the passenger seat, pushes the door open.

‘Get in,’ he says.

***

You have questions, but Seokjin waits until you’re out of the busiest part of town, when the streets get a little wider, the lights less bright, before he starts talking.

You realise he’s taking you to his apartment.

‘What’s going on?’ you ask.

‘Hyunjin threatened you,’ Seokjin says, terse, jaw tense as he navigates the expensive neighbourhood his apartment’s in. 

‘He threatened me?’ you ask, sure you’ve heard wrong.

Seokjin glances at you. ‘The land you just purchased.’

You frown. ‘The square footage we fought Jungcorp over?’

‘Jungcorp is Hyunjin’s grandfather’s company,’ Seokjin says.

The puzzle pieces click into place.

You let out a low whistle. ‘Shit. And he calls you chaebol.’

‘The company’s in trouble,’ Seokjin says, ‘and they’re being investigated for running drugs out of Jamsil.’

He slides into a space in the underground car park, cuts the engine.

‘You know Jimin’s part of the narcotics squad.’

‘He didn’t say what he was investigating,’ you reply, sliding out the door, walking with Seokjin to the private lift.

Seokjin punches in the code, activates the lift, and a moment later you’re walking into his apartment.

There are pictures scattered across the coffee table in the lounge, and for once you don’t stop to admire the view of the city.

They’re all pictures of you. Full colour, high resolution.

Pictures of you in your office, walking into your apartment, at a client dinner. Even, to your horror, one of you in your bed, asleep.

‘Who took these?’ you ask. Your voice comes out tremulous, you barely recognise it.

‘Hyunjin had them sent to me,’ Seokjin replies.

You have to sit down. 

‘They want you to give up the Jamsil property and land,’ Seokjin tells you.

You’re struggling to take all this in.

‘Or what?’

Seokjin doesn’t want to give you the details of what Hyunjin threatened to do to you.

‘You should stay at mine until this settles down,’ is what he settles for.

You look up at him.

‘I can’t give up the Jamsil land, Seokjin. It’s the biggest victory I’ve had since I took over the company.’

‘No victory is worth your life,’ Seokjin points out.

Logically, you know your brother is right, but you don’t know if he knows how hard you’ve fought since you took control of the reins of the Kim conglomerate.

The times you were challenged over decisions the board would have praised you for, if you were a man.

The tears you cried in secret when your spirit was battered and bruised from pretending you were immune to the snide comments, the demeaning remarks.

You know you’re stronger than the adversity you faced but it’s never been easy.

Seokjin studies your face, a look in his eyes that makes you wonder how much your older brother really knows.

‘Yoongi’ll take you home to get your things. I’ll fix us dinner for when you get back.’

***

Yoongi never really seems to expect anything from you when you’re together.

It’s a trait that you’ve come to appreciate more and more as the years go by.

He listened to your naive prattling about your friends on the odd occasion when he picked you up after school, never commenting except to ask if you wanted ice cream.

He picked you up sometimes when you were back from college, letting you choose the music you wanted to play, handing you snacks silently, sometimes smoking out the open window.

He drives quietly now, changing gears so seamlessly you barely notice even though you’re staring at his hands.

You remember once, a couple years ago, when you’d met by chance when you were walking to the metro after a disastrous blind date.

You’d been so stung by the experience the indignation had tumbled out of you, words jumbled, as he’d pulled up alongside you and offered you a lift.

Yoongi had listened all the way to your apartment, murmuring support in the lower range of his vocal register, a reassuring rumble if not any actual words.

As soon as he’d stopped the car you’d unbuckled your belt, intending to turn to him and thank him, and instead, you’d looked at him looking at you, his hair pulled back from his forehead in a tiny ponytail, eyes dark and unreadable, and you’d leaned forward and kissed him instead.

Yoongi had grunted a little, and you would have pulled away, if he hadn’t cupped the back of your head and sought your lips with a hunger that thrilled you all the way to your bones. 

Heat had pooled in your belly, down low, as he licked boldly into your mouth, slid his big hands around your hips to steady you.

You’d pulled away, breathless, more than a little aroused, and he’d quirked a brow at you.

A question.

You think that if you’d showed any uncertainty, Yoongi would have stopped, and so you didn’t.

You’d taken his hardness in your mouth with a confidence fueled by the reverent, affectionate way he said your name, had learned what he liked by the way his breathing quickened until it was laboured gasps, then a single uttered, emphatic ‘fuck’ as he spilled down your throat, hand clenched on the steering wheel.

He’d given you a feral smile, thumbed away a smear of his cum from the corner of your mouth and put his hand up your skirt like it belonged there.

You’d come crying his name, once with his tongue buried deep in your cunt and another time on his cock as he drilled you into your bed.

He’d left in the morning, a kiss on your forehead and a goodbye so sweet it’s never mattered to you that you’ve never talked about that night since.

You sometimes wonder if he still thinks of it. You’ve never asked.

You look out the window as Yoongi drives.

He reaches into the centre console, tosses a packet of chocolate fish into your lap.

‘I’m not a kid, you don’t have to bribe me with snacks,’ you grouse, but you open it anyway.

The chocolate reminds you that you haven’t eaten all day.

‘Stop being cute and I won’t buy you snacks,’ Yoongi says, reasonably.

‘I’m not cute.’

He just snorts.

‘Want one?’ you offer.

‘You look like you need them more than me,’ Yoongi says, but he accepts the fish you place in his palm. 

He walks you up to your building once he’s parked, waits in the living room as you pack a bag.

Once you’re back in his car you turn to him.

‘Did you see those pictures?’

Yoongi’s jaw tightens. ‘Yes.’

‘Seokjin’s worried,’ you say.

‘He’s your big brother,’ Yoongi says, neutral. ‘He worries about you like you worry about him.’

‘I’m fine,’ you tell him.

‘I’m not,’ Yoongi says. He glances in the rearview, signals to turn. ‘I’m angry.’

You put your hand on his arm. ‘You’re always angry,’ you point out, gently.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. ‘No one comes for you, especially not some half assed wannabe racer like Hyunjin.’

You’re touched at his anger on your behalf.

Yoongi looks at you. ‘Seokjin and I will take care of it.’

‘I can’t give up the Jamsil land, Yoongi. I’ve finally clawed myself some credibility.’

‘Fuck that,’ Yoongi agrees. ‘You’re not giving up jack shit for that asshole.’

His lip curls in a half snarl. ‘We’re not giving in even if I have to chain you to me to keep you safe.’

You raise an eyebrow at him.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow back. 

He stops in front of the private lift to Seokjin’s apartment. 

‘I think you’d like being chained to me,’ you say, unable to resist.

The smile he gives you is a mix of rueful and cocky. 

‘Of course I fucking would. I’d make you like it too.’

He unlocks the doors so you can get out, rolls down the window as you get into the lift. 

‘I think about that night all the fucking time,’ he tells you, voice low.

You look up at him in surprise, but don’t have time to reply before the lift doors shut between you.

***

Seokjin sets a plate in front of you.

‘Eat,’ he urges.

You pick up your chopsticks and dig in.

‘The responsible thing to do would be to tell you to give up the land,’ he says. ‘That’s what our parents would tell you to do.’

His words set off a pang of sadness that resonates in your chest.

‘If our parents were still here I wouldn’t be running the company,’ you reply.

‘I don’t want you to give up the land. I know how hard you fought for that victory.’

Seokjin takes another bite. 

‘I know how hard you’ve been fighting.’

‘Running the company was always what I wanted,’ you tell him. ‘It’s just that it was supposed to be with dad at the helm whilst I found my feet.’

It’s the first time you’ve ever come close to hinting that it hasn’t been easy.

There’s sadness in Seokjin’s eyes.

‘I can put in some time at the company. I’m a Kim, too.’

‘The company is what I want,’ you say, very gently, ‘but it’s not what you want.’

Seokjin sighs. ‘What I want is for you to be happy. I am.’

You snort. ‘You have three broken ribs and a fractured collarbone.’

Seokjin smiles. ‘And you have no injuries. Let’s keep it that way.’

You clink your glasses in a toast.

‘So, Jimin, huh?’ Seokjin asks, sly.

You blink at him but don’t say anything.

Your brother manages to smirk at you anyway.

***

You’re in the gym in your brother’s building, running through your PT routine when there’s a flicker of reflection in the floor to ceiling window you’re facing.

Jimin.

‘Seokjin said you’d be down here,’ he says.

You look up at his reflection in the glass.

‘I’ve got a meeting with my board tomorrow,’ you say. ‘They’re going to want to congratulate me on the Jamsil acquisition.’

You get up from the mat, turn around, and realise he’s as sweaty as you are.

Jimin tilts his head, blond hair falling over one eye. He’s wearing a grey hoodie, unzipped, a white t-shirt underneath that’s moulded to his torso, sweatpants, hands shoved in his pockets. 

The gold pendant he wears glimmers in the low light of the gym. 

There’s a faint bruise on his jaw. 

Unthinking, you step forward and brush a thumb over it lightly. 

‘What happened?’ you ask. 

Jimin stays perfectly still as you touch him. 

‘Just some bangers down by the river,’ he says, vague. 

‘Hurt anywhere else?’ you ask. 

‘Check me over and see,’ he says, an invitation. 

He’s ready for the kiss you press on him, sliding his arms around you, hands warm on the gap between your top and leggings. 

You lose yourself in his kisses, only realising he’s walked you backward when your back hits the glass. 

The cool press of the window against your shoulder blades is a startling contrast to the warmth of him. 

Shit, why’s he so warm? 

Jimin’s more insistent than usual, you can feel his erection, already rock solid, nudging at your core even between your layers of clothing. 

He grunts, fingers tugging at the zipper down the front of your top, working your breasts free, hands cupping you possessively, pinching your nipples. 

You’re aware anyone could walk in but you’re struggling to care, at least whilst Jimin’s hot mouth is pressed against your skin and he’s murmuring filth to you as he touches you. 

You’re the one who ends up tugging your leggings down. They’re barely at mid thigh before Jimin’s surged forward, entering you to the hilt in one stroke. 

‘Shit, Jimin,’ you gasp. It’s tight like this, your legs pinned together. 

‘Turn,’ Jimin commands. 

He pulls out, turns you, one hand cupping your cheek so your face doesn’t hit the glass, the other pressed into the small of your back so your hips are angled perfectly for him to enter you again. 

He fucks you hard, drilling you into the glass, cock gliding in and out of you at a pace that makes stars form behind your eyelids. 

You’re not wet enough but the friction adds to the thrill. 

Your nipples tighten harder against the cold of the window. 

‘Look at you,’ Jimin groans. ‘Fuck, I’m gonna come so hard.’ 

His hand kneads the flesh of your ass, squeezing so hard you know he’s going to leave handprints. 

He groans again, long, drawn out, into the back of your neck as he spills. 

You’re stil recovering when he turns you around again, drops to his knees, pushes his head between your thighs. 

He looks up at you, flushed, breathless still from fucking you, eyes dark as he licks up into your cunt. 

He hooks his hands over your bared thighs, parts you with his thumbs, and laps at your clit. 

‘Jimin,’ you gasp. 

‘Yeah, fuck,’ he moans. He’s flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue, slow circles, fingers sliding into you, curving, pressing. 

You can see his come leaking out of you, dripping down his hand as your cunt spasms around his fingers. 

He keeps up the pace, fingers moving in and out of you, lips suctioning at your clit, and your fingers tighten in his hair as you come. 

He moans like he loves the taste of you, licking at your arousal until your knees weaken. 

You get re-dressed in a hurry, Jimin helping you with most of it, shucking off his hoodie and pulling it tight around you.

‘Come on. I’ll put you to bed.’ 

You’re boneless from your orgasm, weary from the stress of the last few days. 

You lean on him as you head back up to Seokjin’s apartment. 

Jimin waits, seated on the edge of your bed as you take a shower, pulls back the covers so you can get in. 

You grasp his wrist as he gets up. 

‘Where are you going?’ you ask, sleepy. 

‘I’ve got more to do, princess.’ 

Jimin presses a kiss to your forehead. 

‘It’ll be over tomorrow, ok?’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

You’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. 

‘Yeah. Promise.’ 

You want to ask more but you’re asleep before he leaves your room. 

***

You love the view from your office, in the nighttime but also on days like today, when the sun blazes bright, laying out the city before you.

In the distance, the silhouette of Mount Samo. 

It always reminds you of Seokjin.

Seokjin had asked you to back down from the deal on the Jamsil land, just until he could ‘take care of things’, but your board meeting’s been planned for months.

The success of the acquisition was meant to be the cherry on the top of the cake, the final step in proving your worth to the company.

You’d tried, at dinner last night, to articulate to Seokjin how much you needed this, but had found yourself too close to tears for comfort.

You think maybe at the end he’d understood.

You breathe in, slow, trying to get your head in the game before you face your board.

Your PA buzzes with a reminder.

You take one last look at Mount Samo in the distance and turn.

Time to go.

The walk to the meeting room’s never felt so short.

Everyone rises when you enter. 

You scan the sea of faces around the U-shaped table and are about to sit when the glass door swings open.

The murmur through the room makes you turn sharply.

Your brother, tall and broad and exquisitely coiffed, walks up to stand beside you at the head of the room.

All eyes are on you, but Seokjin doesn’t seem affected in the slightest.

He leans over, and says, simply, ‘I was wrong.’

You search his gaze, and realise how wrong you were to think Seokjin has no idea what you’re going through.

The realisation makes warmth course through you.

You compose yourself enough to say, ‘That’s why our parents left the company to me, brother.’

The laugh you share makes the tension ease in a way it hasn’t in days.

You turn back to your board. 

‘Let’s begin.’

***

The meeting is a success.

Maybe you’re just flying high off the reaction to your report, but you think you’ve made a significant step towards proving your abilities.

Seokjin, beside you, loosens his tie as he starts the car.

‘Where are we going?’ you ask.

‘You’ve done your bit,’ Seokjin says, glancing in the rearview as he pulls out of the space he’s parked in.

His jaw tightens. ‘It’s time to do mine.’

***

You’ve never really been on Mount Samo in the day before, and the hairpin bends that Seokjin’s manoeuvring with ease are making you a little queasy.

Seokjin glances at you in the rearview mirror, amusement on his face.

‘I could drive this blindfolded,’ he tells you.

‘That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,’ you mutter, trying to keep your eyes straight ahead instead of gaping over the sheer drop you’re inches away from.

‘What have you got planned?’ you ask.

‘We’ve actually already carried out the plan,’ Seokjin tells you. ‘I thought you’d like to be there for the final part.’

You’re curious, thinking back to the night before, when Jimin met you in the gym and then left because he had things to take care of. You’d never heard Seokjin come back, you’d assumed that you’d been asleep and that he’d been quiet.

For the first time, you notice the dark circles under Seokjin’s eyes, marring his normally perfect complexion.

It strikes you that although you’ve been bemoaning your brother’s lack of involvement in your work life, you know very little about what he gets up to.

‘What did you do, Seokjin?’ you ask.

‘Nothing Hyunjin didn’t have coming to him,’ Seokjin replies.

He shrugs.

‘I set him up to meet again today so he could have a chance to win back the car I won from him the other day. I gave Jimin all the pictures Hyunjin sent me, the threats he sent against you.’

Seokjin’s lips thin into a hard line. 

‘Hyunjin’s car’s been captured on CCTV in a notorious spot in Jamsil that the narcotics squad have been monitoring.’

You’re staring at your brother.

‘There are traces of narcotics in the trunk.’

Seokjin blinks. ‘Jimin knows I won the car, but he left with you that night so he hasn’t seen it driven by anyone other than Hyunjin.’

You see what your brother’s done.

You turn to him, realising only now, how carefully he’s been watching you this whole time.

Seokjin’s voice is carefully neutral. ‘This is the kind of thing your big brother gets up to.’

Seokjin doesn’t know about everything in your life, and you don’t know everything about his.

All you know is, he’s your brother, and you can stand up for him like he stood up for you.

You put your hand on his, where it’s loosely curled over the gear shaft.

‘Guess you’re a good big brother after all.’

Seokjin fixes his gaze on your joined hands, throat bobbing as he swallows.

‘I’m the best,’ he agrees, giving you a crooked smile.

***

When you make it to the summit, Yoongi’s already there, peering through binoculars.

‘Hey princess,’ he says, shifting over on the hood of his car to make room for you.

He hands you the binoculars, casual. ‘Check this out.’

You hold the binoculars up, and Yoongi gently pushes you in the right direction, fingers warm under your chin.

The scene’s a few hundred feet down from the summit, and for once you’re not distracted by the vertiginous drop.

There’s Hyunjin’s distinctive car flanked by a tactical team, all clad in distinctive blue and yellow jackets over bulletproof vests. 

Hyunjin, hands above his head.

A flash of blonde hair you’d know anywhere.

Jimin cuffing him and guiding him to an armoured van.

Beside you, there’s the clink of a lighter as Yoongi lights a cigarette.

You lower the binoculars. 

‘I guess that’s that.’

Seokjin lowers his own binoculars.

‘Guess so.’

‘Your boyfriend’s a good cop,’ Yoongi remarks.

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ you reply.

Yoongi’s dark eyes fix on you with interest, but all he does is hum, noncommittal.

It’s barely a quarter of an hour before a car pulls up to the summit, parks beside Seokjin’s.

Jimin steps out, still in his regs, a sight for sore eyes.

He looks tired, but he smiles when he sees you.

‘We’ve got him,’ he tells you.

‘We saw,’ you say.

‘I’ve got to go down to the precinct, then they’re sending me down to Gwangju.’

He hesitates. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It could be months.’

You reach out and give him a hug.

He smells faintly of sweat and gunmetal, and you think you like it.

‘I guess you should call me when you’re next in town then,’ you tell him, close so only he can hear.

Jimin turns his head, lets his lips brush your cheek.

‘Is that an invitation, princess?’

‘Take it however you want it,’ you reply.

Jimin laughs. ‘I will.’

He gives you a look so heated your skin warms. He nods at Seokjin and Yoongi, gets back in the car.

You all watch him drive off.

Yoongi finishes his cigarette, grinds it into the dirt at his feet.

‘Dinner?’ Seokjin suggests.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

Yoongi curls his lip at you, that familiar slow smirk that makes your heart skip a beat.

‘Wanna ride, princess?’

Seokjin rolls his eyes. ‘See you guys at the restaurant.’

You guess he really is the best brother ever.

©hamsterclaw 2023

[cheolhub]

DUMB!FICATION! ⌇BTS REACTIONS ࿐

— PROMPT: bts members reaction to you going dumb during sex

— PAIRING: members x f!reader

— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.

— WARNINGS: um.. dumb!fication! teasing, joon being kinda mean :,(, size kink <3 unprotected sex, soft!dom jin, mean!dom yoongi, slight exhibitionism, heavy degradation, edging (?), super soft!dom hobi <3 (im shocked), fingering, praise, jimin and tae r both feral, overstimulation, oral f!receiving, multiple cream🥧s, SOFT!DOM KOO <3

— A.NOTE: HI i know i’ve been AWOL, but im here & i come bearing gifts <3 happy october!! p.s. im not sure if this classifies as reactions but enjoy nonetheless (jk’s is so long hes been bias wrecking me im sorry) p.s.s. ive posted this 5 times so hopefully it shows up this time

KIM NAMJOON ࿐

you had been unnecessarily needy for namjoon’s attention throughout the entire day. you truly couldn’t help yourself with how big and handsome he looked even while doing the tiniest tasks. he’d had enough, though, when you decided to straddle him at the end of the day while he was reading his book. slightly irritated that he was now hard, he put you to work, claiming if you want something, you gotta do it yourself.

“needy fuckin’ girl,” he mutters, laying back against the plush pillows as his hands gripped tightly onto your waist. they guide you on grinding against his pelvis with his cock stirring up your insides. “baby wanted to be split open all day long and now she can’t even do it herself can she?” he pouts, feigning faux sympathy.

his condescending words go through one of your ears and straight out the other. “please, please, please!” you beg, hiccuping slightly as his cock rubs right against your g-spot. 

“what are you beggin’ for, baby, hmm?” he asks, curiously. “you already have my cock stuffed in you, what more could you possibly want?”

you choke on your words as your mind numbs, “j-joon!”

“awww,” he coos, finally comprehending the situation. “pretty baby’s gone dumb just by sitting on my cock, yeah?” he says with a smirk, bucking his hips into you.

mindlessly, you nod with fervor crying out his name again with a mantra of pleads. “hah! ye-yeah, fuck! joon, please!”

he shakes his head, biting back a smile. he feels himself throbbing inside of you merely because of how sexy you look in this fucked out state. “tell me what you want, angel, i know you can do that for me,”

his voice is so deep that you swear you can feel it vibrating your entire body, yet you manage to find the words to tell him what you so desperately need. “w-wan’na cum,”

he smiles, humming softly, “so fuckin’ cute,” he mutters under his breath. “gonna make sure my baby cums, don’t you worry.”

KIM SEOKJIN ࿐

it’s an accident, truly. usually after work, seokjin is on his knees for you– eating you out, fucking you with three fingers, making you cum and gush all over his face. but today was different. today jin was frustrated and stressed and genuinely annoyed with how his day went. being the amazing girlfriend you are, you offered to please him today– to let him have his way with you. little did you know, he was a little more pent-up than you had assumed. 

“princess, fuck,” he moans, fucking his hard cock into your cunt. “feels so good, you always feel so good around me.” he practically says through grit teeth. 

he stands over your quivering body with a bruising clasp on your hips. his thrusts are quick, hard, and shallow; nonetheless, he’s hitting every spot he needs to. you’ve already cum twice, but you want to give it all to him with the day he’s had.

you feel dizzy, mind buzzing with infinite pleasure as he unravels the knot again and again.“hngh,” you moan, words garbled as you can’t seem to form any. “fuh– fuuuck!” you sob starting to feel overstimulated, hands gripping for life on his forearms. 

his speed falters, snapping out of his state of frustration. “princess?” he questions, furrowing his brows in confusion. 

you whine when he stops altogether, “jiiin!” you cry for him, back arching to get him to resume. “n-more, mph, need more!” you slur, incoherent noises slipping past your lips. 

 he must not have realized that he fucked you beyond limits and is starting to feel bad that he took his frustration out on you. he attempts to retract himself from your body, but you wrap your legs around him tightly, keeping him inside of you. 

you muster all the words your spinning head will allow, “need your c-cock, jin, please,”

he looks into your pleading eyes and his guilt melts away. his speed picks up and is keen on the way you squeal, getting lost in the way he fucks you once more. you attempt to tell him to never stop, but the words die on your tongue and seokjin can’t help but smile at your dumb state.

“shhh, just take it, baby, i got you,” he whispers. “leave all the thinking to me.”

MIN YOONGI ࿐

you love yoongi, you do. truly! but it’s hard to provoke him with his undying patience and cool, cat-like demeanor that made him seem emotionless. it’s hard to get him to fuck you like an animal the way you so desperately need. that’s not to say it never happens. even though it’s hard to evoke a reaction, it’s not impossible. nights like tonight where you’re flirting with every moving thing in the bar. nights like tonight where you’re not wearing underwear and making sure yoongi knows. nights like tonight where you’re bent over the bar’s dirty bathroom sink with his hand laced into your hair as he's pounding into you just the way you hoped he would. 

“look at you,” he grunts, pulling your hair roughly to look into the cloudy mirror. you look at your face, watery mascara streaks staining your face and your lipstick smudged all around your mouth. “fucking slut,” he scoffs.

you moan in agreement, his cock dragging against your sweet spot. replying to him is the last thing on your mind. with the way he’s fucking you, the only thing you can think about is his dick and getting off on his rough behavior. 

“think it’s cute to throw yourself around? to look so fucking desperate?” he grits through his teeth as his thrusts punctuate every word. “you just wanted my attention, isn’t that right?”

you nod your head, hoping the high-pitched moans and your incessant movements answer his question because god knows you can’t say anything. 

he chuckles breathily, “yeah? acting like a slut so i can fuck you like this?”

you clench around him tightly at his words and he takes that as his answer, snapping his hips into you with more vigor. you moan loudly, more tears running down your cheeks. 

“all you had to do was ask, baby,” he mutters, feeling himself throb inside you at the sound of your pretty voice. even with the loud thumping of the music outside, he still basks in the lewd noises of your sloppy cunt and your cries. “no, but you’re too cockdrunk now to say thank you, huh?” 

“th-thank yo– yoongi!” your apology is cut short by the scream of his name. his cock consistently ramming into your body’s most sensitive spot and you can’t hold back anymore. “cumming!” you cry. 

he hums, stopping his movements and you cry out in protest again, “did i fuck you so stupid you forgot the rules? bad girls don’t get to cum, sweetheart.”

JUNG HOSEOK ࿐

it’s safe to say that every time you get sexual with hoseok, you go absolutely stupid forgetting everything except his name and the feeling of his mouth or hands or his perfect cock. today was no different, yet he’d come at you with a much different approach. his usual degradation and harsh movements were replaced with the sweetest praise and merciful touch. 

“you’ve been such a good girl for me lately, doll,” he whispers into your ear, gently pressing soft pecks around the area which is a stark contrast to what his fingers were doing. he has you in between his legs and your back pressed to his chest with your legs wide open while he fucks three of his big fingers into your soaked cunt. “haven’t been too rough, have i?”

you shake your head, “no, no! love when you’re rough!” your words come out pleadingly. you feel so full just with his fingers that it’s almost mind-numbing.

he chuckles, the pad of his thumb moving to lazily rub circles into your clit simultaneously. you gasp, twitching in his arms and clamping around his fingers. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he mumbles, starting to trail his pecks down your neck. “so pretty ‘n good… all f’me.”

the praise goes straight to your core and makes your brain go haywire. praise isn’t a foreign concept from hobi, it’s more that you weren’t expecting that. 

“mph, y-yeah, hoseok, all yours,” you whine breathily, throwing your head back on his shoulder providing more access to your neck. you can’t help but let your brain turn to mush at his words and actions. mindlessly, you clamp around his fingers as you attempt to fuck his hand.

“yeah? you love being my cute lil fucktoy?” he questions gently before noticing the way your body starts withering under his touch. his breath tickles the skin on your neck making you hypersensitive. “gonna cum, baby?”

“hnggh, baby…” you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

hobi lets out a soft laugh, “don’t tell me you’ve already gone dumb on me, dollface.” he jokes, but it makes his cock twitch knowing that even the slight touch of his fingers has your brain going haywire. when you moan in reply, he simply hums, “that’s alright, pretty, just cum for me, yeah?”

PARK JIMIN ࿐

jimin is crazy about you. insane, if you will. he likes to show you that by shoving his head between your thighs and devouring you till you’re a puddle of mush all for him. he eats you out like he hasn’t eaten in weeks like you’re the last thing he’ll get a taste of. it’s mostly because he loves the way you taste, but he can’t deny how much he loves the way you babble dumbly for his cock in this state. it’s kind of sadistic, but you never complain. not even when you’re overstimulated and reduced to choked sobs and quivering limbs.

“minnie!” you cry, hands laced into his hair as you pull on his roots. he groans into your pussy, eliciting another high-pitched whine from you. “f-fuck, baby! i-i can’t!”

he’s been in between your legs for at least half an hour now, ripping orgasms from your poor body left and right and you both know that you’re close to tapping out mentally, but you know in your bones that’s what he wants that to happen. 

“come on, angel, for me?” he moans, hands squeezing the flesh of your plush, trembling thighs. “please cum for me, tastes so fucking good,” he begs and you can’t resist his pleading voice or pretty moans…

so you do. you cum. hard. you cum with your back arched and both of your hands carded through his silky hair as you push him further into your wet core. you cum grinding against his face to ride out your orgasm as your body is wracked with sobs and gasps. you cum so hard you swear you’ve completely left earth, but jimin’s voice brings you back down. 

“baby, shhh,” he shushes, hands rubbing your thighs gently in an attempt to stop them from shaking uncontrollably. “are you alright?”

you moan breathily at his question as you nod your head, your brain genuinely unable to provide a verbal answer for him. you make grabby hands at him and he knows exactly what it means having done this more times than he can count. he leans in pressing his lips to yours, swallowing all of your tiny whimpers and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“wan’ your cock,” you mumble against his lips after a few minutes. 

he smiles widely knowing he has you right where he wants you.

KIM TAEHYUNG ࿐

taehyung has a knack for fucking you until you can’t even remember your own name. he loves your tears, your pretty cries, your begs where he can’t tell what you’re asking for– he loves it all. but what he doesn’t realize is that he gets just as dumb as you. he rambles on and on about you and how much he loves your cunt while fucking his previous loads into you with his sensitive cock. 

“taehyung!” you sob, your fingernails digging into his broad shoulders, sure to leave a mark. your drenched, your body covered with a sheen layer of sweat, tears slipping down your face, pussy overflowing with your mixed cum– but this is how taehyung likes it. he loves it messy.

“pussy’s so fuckin’ good– fuck! you’re such a good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of my cock,” he moans, eyes threatening to roll back as he’s overcome with intense pleasure. his cock fucks you open, cum seeping out of your worn pussy every time he pulls out. 

you can’t stop the tears from falling down your face. you’ve lost track of how many times you cum around him, but you could care less. you feel so good even with how sensitive you are. he’s making you feel so fucking good, and hearing that you’re doing the same for him has your head spinning even more. 

you clench around him and he whines your name out. “b-baby, how are you still so fuckin’ tight?” his voice wavers, and you clench around him again. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again. gonna fill you up even more, pretty girl, you want that?”

when you don’t reply, taehyung’s thumb finds your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the swollen bud. you gasp loudly, “tae! shit, fuck, i-i-”

“i asked if my good girl wanted my cum?” he pants, giving you deeper thrusts, sensitive tip rubbing against your velvet walls making him shake. 

“i do! i do!” you plead nearly choking on a sob as you feel the tight rope in the pit of your stomach snap, soaking him with your cum. 

that’s all it takes for taehyung, going still once he’s pressed himself deep inside of you. he twitches once, twice and after the third time, you feel the warmth of his load filling you to the brim, dressing your used walls in your favorite shade of white. 

“fuck, i love you,” he says before collapsing next to you.

JEON JUNGKOOK ࿐

jungkook hates to see you so sad. so dejected, unable to even look him in the eye. you don’t deserve that, you don’t deserve to feel so shitty. he knows work is hard for you some days and he knows you hate your boss and your pretentious coworkers, he just doesn’t know why you put up with it. 

“baby, talk to me, please?” he pleads as you lay on the bed at the end of the night with your back facing him. “what happened, angel? did someone say something to you again?”

you shrug, mumbling out, “‘m just tired of thinkin’ about it, koo, can we just drop it and go to bed?” 

jungkook sighs, placing a hand on your arm, shaking you gently to turn and look at him, “look at me,” he whispers and when you finally do with a pout on your face, he smiles. “there she is, my pretty girl.”

a blush creeps up your neck and face and your stomach churns at his soft words. “koo, stop…”

“i wanna help you, Y/N,” he whispers, leaning into you. “lemme help you forget today, yeah? wanna make you feel so good that you forget, can i do that?”

you want to cry, nodding your head and taking a deep breath.

he kisses you gently, taking his time with you before letting his pace pick up. soon you find yourself aching underneath him, thighs sticking together with your arousal and head whirling with need. 

as he pushes himself inside of you, rocking in and out of you, you feel all your worries leave your body. tears sting your eyes before you ultimately decide to close them and turn off your brain to bask in the pleasure your sweet boyfriend is giving you.

you moan his name out softly and he groans back, “such a pretty little thing,” he mumbles, pushing his head in the crook of your neck. he places wet kisses on the sensitive skin. 

“koo… fuck…” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he’s fucking you as deep as he can go. “f-fuck, feels… feels s-so… good,” you all but slur, taking the near incoherency of your words as a sign to shut up before you begin to babble nonsense. 

“don’t know why you work so hard, gorgeous,” he whispers into your ear, continuing to fuck you nice and deep. “wanna take care of you forever, don’t wanna see you sad like this,” his voice wavers with his words when you clamp tightly around him at the mention of ‘forever.’ 

he smiles against your neck, leaving a feathery kiss before reminding you, “you don’t have to think about them anymore, angel, ‘m here, alright? gonna make you feel so fucking good n’ have you cum till you don’t remember those assholes.” 

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[bbsantc]

my favorite bts fics so far (hyung!line)

hello lovely readers, i hope all of you are doing great. i've been wanting to make this post for a while now. i really want to share the amazing work and talent that many authors have on this app. as a literature fan and hopeless romantic myself, i made sure to pick out all the fics that i think are beautiful and amazing :)

disclaimers!!!!:

some of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni), or some heavy themes, i am yoongi biased so excuse me if the fic ratio compared to the other members is waaayy bigger (like by a lot i am so so sorry), also this post is insanely long heh (once again, i am so so sorry :p), all pictures are from pinterest!

fluff- ♾️

angst- Ω

smut- ☻

crack/humor- ☼

i would sell my liver to read this again for the first time- ¶

Kim Seokjin

Turn Back Time- @raplinesmoon ♾️☼Ω☻

''pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30) genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+ summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?''

Every Year- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻

''Pairing: Jin x Reader, some implied Yoongi x reader and Namjoon x reader

Word: 15.6K

Genre: friends-to-lovers!au, richkids!au, chef!Jin, bookworm!oc, hard fluff, smut angst?

Summary:  As the daughter of the Kim’s closest friends, you’ve attended their extravagant annual New Year’s party since the year you were born.  No matter what you always spend time with your favorite childhood friend, Jin, who has always been there for you.  Here are the highlights of you and Jin realizing just how important you two are to each other.''

Let's get married as a joke- @burningupp Ω♾️

''Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

Wordcount: 8210 (I’m so sorry)

Summary: Your best friend Jin has always had a talent of getting you into trouble. Maybe that’s why you’re not surprised that he asks you to marry him as a joke - or that you agree.''

friends get married all the time- @hobipost♾️

''The silly promise you made ten years ago comes back to bite your asses, and you’re both too weak to pretend it never happened

pairing: seokjin x f. reader

genres/tropes: friends to lovers, fluff

words: 2k+''

Min Yoongi

series:

The Truth Between Us- @jimlingss @gukyi ♾️Ω ☼ ¶

“⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there

⇒ word count: 14k (first chapter)

⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama”

Dating advice- @taleasnewastime ♾️Ω☻

''Summary: It’s been months – ok, it’s been years – since you last went on a date. And you’re sick of it. Sick of seeing couples kissing and holding hands in the street. Sick of your friends settling down. Sick of everyone buying houses and having families. You’re going to do something about it. You’re going to snap up a man, you’re going to tie someone down, you’re going to finally commit, you’re going to – you’re going to need a bit of advice.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 54k

Status: Complete''

unexpected lovers- @jjkeverlast ♾️Ω☻

''-> pairing artist!yoongi x female reader

-> genre fake dating!au, romantic comedy

-> summary what happens when you meet min yoongi at the club, or well accidentally use him as your pawn to not get hit on. not knowing your cousins friend overhears and suddenly your whole family knows.

-> word count 19.8k''

Only Yesterday- @borathae ♾️☻Ω ¶

'' “Your life in a small countryside village was nothing of the extraordinary, you owned a quaint little teashop, enjoyed warm evenings in your garden and liked taking walks by the river. One day a handsome stranger moves in the abandoned cottage opposite side of the river and it is not long that he becomes a source of comfort in your life.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: s2l!AU, Neighbours!AU, Teashop!AU, Slice of Life!AU, Romance, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: This is a very feel good story, meant to comfort the soul and warm the heart. However it contains talks about car accidents and memory loss, as well as sexually explicit scenes. If you are sensitive to such topics I advise you read with care. 

Wordcount: 78.620''

Signed in Black- @yoon-kooks♾️☻

''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, BadBoy!AU, FLUFF, Smut [in future chapters]

Summary: Min Yoongi. That was the name magically tattooed to your skin. You were told he was your lover by fate. And as cute as it would be to have a soulmate, Yoongi was the last person you ever wanted to be bound to. But thankfully, there was a way to remove the tattoo. All you had to do was convince six Bulletproof Fairies that the two of you were in love.

Word Count: 3.3k'' (first chapter)

neon signs- @pantoneyoongi ♾️¶

''title ; neon signs [ drabble series ]  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

description ; namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi.

(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.)''

Reflection of You- @agustdakasuga ♾️Ω ¶

''Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover. ''

your universe- @muniimyg ♾️☻Ω ☼

''in which min yoongi refuses to lose you

+ 

regretting rejecting oc, min yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again

pairings:

basketball captain // tsundere yoongi + sunshine // preschool edu major oc

au/genre:

friends to lovers 

uni au

one sided pining / rejection / redemption / a sad excuse of a slow burn

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written

warnings:

implied + actual smut

angst (oc is heartbroken and trying to move on from being initially rejected)

name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and a burnt out era &lt;;3 

parts:

ongoing ( ongoing/25 )''

andante cantabile- @kkulfm-2 ♾️☻¶

''pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut

wc: 30.6k + 3.8k smutty bonus

summary: You are convinced Mr. Min is nothing but a rude and gloomy man after he leaves a horrible first impression on you. His friends' attempts to convince you otherwise are met with mixed success.''

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

oneshots:

Man of The Year- @raplinesmoon ♾️¶

''pairing: single dad!Yoongi x gn!reader genre(s): pure fluff, very minor angst au(s): graduation au word count: 2.7k warnings: some swearing, Yoongi is a little nervous, Yoongi is bad at flirting, this is so cute I could cry

rating: PG

summary: For the longest time, it’s always been Yoongi and his daughter, celebrating every milestone of life together. But today, that could change.''

Shut Eye- @alpacaparkaseok ♾️

''pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k''

gold- @aquagustd Ω♾️☻

''↣ you’re in love with Min Yoongi, yes, you are, but why do you keep thinking of the boy who broke your heart into a million pieces when you should be focusing on the one who’s mending it.

pairing: yoongi x reader (past jungkook x reader)

genre: angst, fluff, smut, bff2l

word count: 17K''

stood up. -@parkdatjimin Ω☻♾️

''Three years after dumping your toxic boyfriend, you decide it's finally time to try the dating scene again. What you don't expect is for a handsome and confident CEO to come to your rescue after being stood up.

"Just play along. My name is Yoongi and whoever stood you up is a douche."

Pairings: CEO!yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: HEAVY angst, smut, lil fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, non-idol!au''

First-Date BAIT!- @jimlingss ♾️

''Words: 11.3k

Genre: Fluff

First dates are embarrassing. First dates are awkward. I’ve been through countless ones, sitting across from people who bored the living daylights out of me. It was less exciting than watching paint dry. Some dates were so utterly rude - I think you and I both know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on that. But now we both don’t have to waste our time anymore!

With First Date Bait they went out for me! Afterwards, they informed me if it was recommended to go out on a second date. It’s amazing with a 99.99% accuracy rate! That’s how I ended up meeting my husband!

First Date Bait. Why waste your time with awkward first dates?''

DreamCatcher- @jimlingss ♾️Ω

''Words: 13k (oops)

Genre: Fluff & Angst

Summary: When your dreams are more or less nightmares, monsters inside your head that eat you alive, it seems like the only person who can help you is Min Yoongi, professional dream chaser.''

Purr-haps I like you- @taleasnewastime ♾️

''Summary: You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: pure fluff; Flatmates au

Word count: 11.6k''

Wild Strawberries- @yoonia ♾️☻

''➤ Character / Genre: Min Yoongi x reader/female OC (told through Yoongi’s POV) | Lucid Dream!au, fluff, smut''

first love- @jungnoir Ω♾️

''⇢ summary:  yoongi meets you, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano, and he steals you away hours before your wedding day, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano + yoongi’s been in love with you since childhood and he only has the courage to tell you when you’re about to marry someone else.

⇢ relationship: min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: best friend!au, angst, romance. 

⇢ words: 5.6k''

strike a chord- @snackhobi ♾️☻¶

''pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.''

Anyone But The Groom- @yoonjinkooked ♾️Ω☻

''❅ Summary: After a meet-cute that brings all the romcoms to shame, you realize that for once in your life, the stars have finally aligned and presented you a guy that might be able to make you believe in love at first sight. Only to find out that you’re in charge of planning his Christmas Eve Wedding.

❅ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

❅ AU: Wedding Planner reader x Arranged Marriage groom Yoongi

❅ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, will-they-won’t-they type of relationship

❅ Word Count: 36.5k (I AM SO SORRY)''

Not Even a Mouse- @softyoongiionly ♾️☻¶

''Summary:  The week before Christmas, you are tasked with delivering some paperwork to your father’s former business partner in order to secure your ownership of their legendary toy store. However, things don’t go as planned and a sudden blizzard keeps you cooped up inside the tiniest town you’ve ever seen, Snow Falls. You keep telling yourself that it’s the weather that’s keeping you here, but after a visit to Min’s Mini Mart, you aren’t so sure anymore…

Pairing: Single Dad! Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Romance, FLUFF, Smut (18+ only please)''

All I Want for Christmas (ft. Yoongi)- @hayjeon ♾️Ω

''→ singledad, CEO!yoongi x secretary!reader→ 13k words''

ceo!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶

''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader 

→ genre: ceo!au, clumsy!y/n because that’s always nice, jimin is ur best friend, floofy fluff, a touch of nsfw aka office sex

→ wordcount: 21k+ so u should probably read this using ur laptop and not ur phone''

first love | myg- @lavienjin ☻Ω

''synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn’t talk much, you’ve always found his presence comforting, and it didn’t surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn’t fall in love.

But wouldn’t you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it’s addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing

pairing: yoongi x reader

wc: 11.3k

genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(''

A Boy Like You | Yoongi- @cinnaminsvga ♾️¶

''→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.

{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff''

when the stars align- @itskimtaehyung ♾️Ω

''Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: FakeDating!AU with a hint of roommates (well actually more like apartment-mates but roommates is catchier), College!AU, fluff, angst

Word count: 10.5k

Content/Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, drug usage, strong language, but also cute things like adopting a dog together

Summary: With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought…''

p.o.v | myg- @jtrbluv ♾️Ω

''summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.

pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)

genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au

word count: 17.9k''

Yoongi is a Rock- @yoongsisbae ♾️Ω ¶

''rock!Yoongi x reader :D fluff a bit of angst a lot of silliness

Word Count 1.3k''

android!yoongi- @jungshookz♾️Ω☻☼ ¶

''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader

→ genre: android!au becauSe for some reason android aus are popping up everywhere, the usual heaping serving of fluff and comedy, N S F W like reALLY nsfw i poPPED OFF this time i don’t know even know what happened,,, forgive me god for i have sinned, a n g s t, i definitely teared up a little writing this because i was listening to kim bum soo’s i miss you and it made me 100x more emo

→ trigger warnings: this does get a little intense! beware!! 

→ wordcount: 24k like that bruno mars song''

you’re so concerned about the ending that you don’t even know the plot- @joonsgalaxy ♾️☼

''° yoongi x reader x taehyung

° 1.9 k words ° fluff/humour

🌟 you bring your broken laptop to Tae—the IT specialist—who you have a crush on. you drag your bff Yoongi along with you, who—you’re certain—has a crush on Tae too. what a mess, right? well, the thing is, you never even considered the possibility of your assumptions being totally wrong.''

better place- @cupofteaguk ♾️

''summary: you might be in love with childhood best friend Min Yoongi, and he might be in love with you—and everyone seems to know it. except for the two of you.

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: hogwarts au, friends to lovers au | fluff

warnings: slow burn, alcohol consumption, truly lowkey an idiots to lovers au word count: 14k''

something to hold on to- @fantasybangtan ♾️Ω ¶

''❦ word count. 17.7k ❦ genre. parent fic, fluff, angst, a bit of boob action ❦ warnings. illness, mention of hospitalisation, mention of minor character death, yoongi is kind of a dick sometimes, accidental(?) flashing ❦ summary. it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles…. worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.''

the proposal- @dreamescapeswriting ♾️Ω☻

''WORD COUNT: 35K (No its not missing a decimal point)

PAIRING: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader

GENRE: Smut, enemies to lovers, CEO x Assistant, fake marriage, angst, movie inspired, slow burn''

basketballcaptain!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶

''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader

→ genre: basketball captain x water girl, cheesy cheesy stuff, the FLUFFIEST fluff, jungoo is an idiot, humour, nSFW = smut, cocky yoongi, spoiler alert yoongi does a body shot off of u it just be like that sometimes

→ wordcount: 18.4k this will definitely make the app crash as per usual don’t come for me''

Hug-o-gram- @cinnaminsvga ♾️☼ ¶

''→ summary: 

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au,fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K''

I Wanna Hold Your Hand- @minisugakoobies ♾️

''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, Roommates!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: pining, a lil’ smooching, Yoongi is very persuasive, reader is easily duped, it’s as fluffy as freshly fallen snow

Word Count: 1.4K

Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me

Summary: It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.''

subtle- @joonary ♾️Ω

''↳ summary: just another memory added to the long list of drunk memories that you’ll forget but wish you’d remember, while yoongi will remember but wish he could forget. 

↳ genre: fluff; light angst; friends (?) to lovers (?); min yoongi x reader

↳ rating: pg-13

↳ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and yoongi’s soft spots being exposed to the light of day. yknow, just another joonary fic.

↳ word count: 3.5k''

Hobi's Girl- @jjungkookislife Ω☻

''↬ pairing: f. reader x Hoseok, f. reader x Yoongi

↬ genre: smut [18+], angst

↬ summary: Yoongi had a wonderful night with you… but you’re Hobi’s girl.

↬ wc: 4.8k''

The King Isn’t Dead- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻

''Pairing: Yoongi x oc (fem)

Rating:  M

Word: 19.7k~ (my finger slipped?)

Genre:  historical fic, smut, romance, fluff, angst, political upheaval shit

Summary:  After the invasion and the King’s miraculous survival, the nation aims to secure stability and his position of power through the prospect of marriage and continuing the Min line.  As a promise to your brother on the battlefield, the King promises to consider you as his potential wife - to love and to protect.  Or maybe it’ll be the other way around?''

the landlord- @ppersonna ☻

''↳ summary- your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave.  good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 4.3k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre- smut, light crack, PWP''

CYBERSEX- @gimmethatagustd ♾️☻☼

''The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend? 

» pairing: yoongi x fem!reader 

» wc/date: 14.6k | July 2022

» genre: BTS | 18+ | brother’s best friend | smut | fluff | humor

» warnings: alcohol | blowjob | car sex | creampie | dirty talk | fingering | masturbation | pet names | phone sex | pussy slapping | sex work | unprotected vaginal sex''

Jung Hoseok

hot rod- @kinktae ♾️☻

''a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.

pairing: greaser!hoseok x reader

word count: 10k

genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff''

Kim Namjoon

The Bodyguard- @rmnamjoons ♾️☻Ω

''➳ summary: You’re the daughter of the ambassador to a small, peaceful, barely-on-the-map country in Western Europe, working as a diplomat to help your mother with her endless meetings and politics. After a kidnapping attempt gone wrong, you and your protective bodyguard Namjoon are on the run across Europe, jumping from trains, stealing cars, and pretending to be a couple on your honeymoon to stay hidden. As the would-be kidnappers close in, Namjoon promises you that he’s going to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

➳ pairing: bodyguard!Namjoon x reader

➳ genre: bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating/fake marriage, road trip (kinda), very slight angst

➳ word count: 62.9k – this is a complete, VERY long oneshot''

Show Me How- @imaginationofacrazyfangirl ☻ ¶

''Summary:You swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hook up on tinder.

— PAIRING: Namjoon x f!reader

— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.''

I'll continue in a pt.2

(tumblr doesn't let me write more lmao)

[tjwritesfanfics]

BTS MASTERLIST💜

Main Masterlist

MINORS DON'T INTERACT ON NSFW THINGS

🔥NSFW 🌻Fluff 💔Angst

OT7 💜

💙BTS spoiling you 🌻

💙BTS playfighting with you 🌻

💙BTS exposing your relationship on VLive *written by my friend 🌻

💙First kiss (Hyung line) *written by my friend 🌻

💙First kiss (Makane line) *written by my friend 🌻

💙 BTS seeing you at work 🌻

💙Rejecting fuckboy BTS over text 🔥

💙BTS meeting you for the first time 🌻

💙BTS sending snaps because they miss you on tour 🌻

💙BTS losing you to an abusive boyfriend 💔💔

💙BTS rap line's friend who stutters can rap 🌻

💙Kissing in the rain (Hyung line) 🌻

💙Kissing in the rain (Maknae line) 🌻

💙BTS not noticing that you were on the camera crew 🌻

💙BTS jealous of everyone (Bi reader) 🌻

💙BTS playing the Pocky Game with you 🌻

💙BTS seeing you with glasses for the first time *written by my friend 🌻

Kim Namjoon 🐨

One Shots

💙Order for 🌻

Not such a normal day at work for Namjoon

💙Trees 🌻

Your grandson starts asking about trees. So, you tell him where he can find a man who went by the name Koya, though you knew him as Kim Namjoon, a friend, but then he became the man who destroyed the trees.

💙Perfect warm up (ft Jin) 🔥

Namjoon and Jin need your help to warm up before a show

Kim Seokjin 🦙

One Shots

💙Perfect warm up (ft Namjoon) 🔥

Namjoon and Jin need your help to warm up before a show

Min Yoongi 🐈‍⬛

One shots

💙Miss Jackson 🔥

Yoongi and Jungkook knew what you did for fun. They just wish they weren’t the ones stuck cleaning up after you.

💙Not all bad 🌻

You were working at a hybrid shelter and in a desperate need for money, you take the position to take care of the rare panther hybrid. Turns out it would be a lot harder than you thought.

Series

💙Back in Time (Completed) 💔

While helping your boyfriend research his ancestry you find a very old looking book. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you open it, a flash of light sucks you into a world you’d never seen before. Now with a man who looks exactly like your boyfriend you have to find a way home. 1 2 3 4 5 6

Jung Hoseok 🐿️

One shots

💙You're mine (ft Lee Felix) 🌻

BTS has been super busy with their comeback, so Hoseok hasn’t seen his girlfriend in a few weeks. After he hears that you want to learn to dance, he takes it upon himself to teach you. Imagine his surprise when he finds you and Stray Kid’s, Lee Felix, in the middle of a dance lesson.

💙Remembering the days 💔💔

Hoseok remembers all the fun times you had together.

💙Hallmark Holidays 🌻

After a terrible break up, your best friend convinces you to go back to your hometown. Only problem was you hadn’t been back in seven years and your ex-boyfriend was still there and you kinda sort of still have feelings for him.

Park Jimin 💖

One shots

💙Miss Jackson 🔥

Park Jimin loves you. He loves you more than he can handle, and he isn’t about to let your latest plaything get in his way.

💙Apple bottom jeans 🔥

CEO Park Jimin decides he wants a night to relax and there was no better time than on his birthday and at his favorite strip joint. Luckily for him you were preforming and offering him a special birthday treat.

💙You look so pretty 🔥

After a long day at work, your boyfriend has a surprise for you.

Kim Taehyung 🐯

One Shots

💙Lesson Learned 🔥

You belonged to him. No matter what.

💙The Contract 💔

You love Taehyung and will do anything to be with him.

💙Growl 🔥

After watching Taehyung perform there was nothing you wanted more than to suck his dick.

💙Blood lust 🔥

With a killer clown on the loose, you worry about your boyfriend’s late-night job. A job you knew he had but didn’t know the details of what he did or where it was. Or you didn’t until the night you heard screaming from the basement.

💙Only her 🔥

Kim Taehyung and his twin brother V always shared everything with each other. Food, clothes, and the love of killing. No one ever understood them until they move to Seoul and meet y/n, the pretty barista at the coffee shop down the road. Now they had to have you in their lives, and no one could stand in their way.

Series

💙Helping hands 🔥

Your father hired Taehyung to lend a helping hand around the farm every summer, but what he didn’t know was that Taehyung also lent his ‘helping hands’ to his daughter too.

💙Mile high (part 2 of helping hands) 🔥

Halfway through the summer, your town was holding a county fair! You really wanted to go and take Taehyung with you. What you didn’t expect was to end up stuck on the top of the fairs wheel with your secret boyfriend and your best friend that just confessed his feeling for you.

Jeon Jungkook 🐰

One shots

💙Miss Jackson 🔥

Yoongi and Jungkook knew what you did for fun. They just wish they weren’t the ones stuck cleaning up after you.

💙International playboy 🔥

You meet BTS International Playboy, and he just rocks your world. 

💙Dirty translator 🔥

Jungkook needs Namjoon's help to translate for his girlfriend

💙Finally 🔥

Giving Jungkook a hand job at dinner leads to much more.

Series

💙Behind closed doors (on hold)

Everyone wants new kid, Jeon Jungkook’s, attention. You had it without even asking for it and if they knew the consequences that come with having his attention, they wouldn’t want it. 1

[dollfaceksj]

met him last night | ksj (m)

➥ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: You’ve worked in the office with Kim Seokjin for quite some time but you never really pay attention to him. He’s basically your stereotypical introverted nerd with complimentary glasses decorating his eyes and sweater vests clinging to his torso. Coincidentally, you bump into him outside of work. You’re in for the shock of your life when you find some stuff out about him.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ plot twist ⋆ porn with plot

➥ CATEGORY: two-shot

➥ WARNINGS: wild & flirty taehyung (cause why not?), strong language, tension, sexual tension, nerd!seokjin, plot twist, two-faced seokjin? basically hes not what he seems like, reader is a bit of a hypocrite, mentions of biphobia/misogyny, awkward interaction in a grocery store, mentions of sexual acts, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 10.9k

a/n: aaaa im glad this is finally out i just wanted my own ver of a hannah montana story man. jkjk but yeah i hope u enjoy <33 lmk what u fink.

a/n 2: pt. 1 is pretty slow but pt. 2 has all the mind-blowing filthy smut i promise✍🏽

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

to: Y/N.Y/L/N@companyemail.com

from: Karen Smith

This is the 3rd time this has happened! I demand to speak to anyone that’s in charge.

“Ugh, she won’t stop complaining,” you groan as you finish reading another email from the same customer who’s been complaining for 4 days straight because the delivery man delivered her package to her neighbor.

You’ve tried to explain multiple times that he had no choice due to her absence at the time of delivery but she’s adamant on letting you know she doesn’t approve.

You rub your eye with the knuckle of your index finger, careful not to smudge your eyeliner or mascara before you let a loud sigh push past your lips and slouch in your chair.

Your co-worker and friend, Taehyung, glances over at you from the desk next to yours with an amused grin on his lips. “I dealt with her last time. Good luck, she won’t let up.”

With a turn of your head, you finally meet his gorgeous eyes that glimmer with mischief and it annoys you to the core. Your glare throws imaginary daggers at him, an irritated scowl forming on your face.

“All she did was order some balloons and confetti. I’d understand if she had ordered something expensive like a phone or console,” you mumble in annoyance, your eyes flickering to the bottom right corner of your monitor to check the time.

It’s 3:34PM. Under 30 minutes until you get to clock out. You swivel in your chair, head thrown back as you stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. You close your eyes, allowing the built-in ceiling-air-conditioning to softly fan over your face while you think about what a shit week you’ve had.

“You’re too frustrated. Thought about fucking it out of your system?” You hear Taehyung’s deep voice way closer than it was before, making you snap your head in the direction of said decibels.

He has rolled over in his chair, now sitting right next to you with a shit-eating grin on his lips. You merely grunt in response, lifting your leg and placing your foot against the edge of his seat’s cushion right in between his thighs in one swift motion, missing his groin by a hair before you kick his chair back in the general direction of his desk.

He laughs as he aimlessly rolls back to his desk, grabbing onto the edge of the wooden surface belonging to his desk before turning to fully face you.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” His tone does sound more serious but you just wave your hand at him in dismissal as you return your attention to your inbox that’s bursting with emails waiting for a response from you.

“You offering?” you tease, playfully, without looking at him, eyes still fixed on the screen in front of you.

A deep chuckle leaves his throat before he continues, “If you’d asked that a week ago, I would’ve fucked the shit out of you.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise as you turn to look at him but this time it’s Taehyung that’s avoiding eye contact, eyes glued to his screen as his long fingers gracefully dance over the black keyboard in front of him. Taehyung has always been flirty, has always made dirty jokes but that’s what they were. Jokes.

This time, he says it like it’s a confession. Like he’s serious. And you hate to admit that it rattles you to the core.

“Be normal,” you mumble, uncertainty coating your tone as your hands fidget with the bundle of papers to your right, pretending to look busy and unbothered.

He glances at you for a moment before shrugging and saying, “I’m not lying.” He returns his gaze to his computer, right hand draped over the cursor as the clicking of his mouse sounds louder than ever.

“But as you know that cute guy asked me out again and I can see it going somewhere,” he explains as he brings his other arm up, leaning his elbow on his desk and bringing his hand up to rub his lips with the tips of his fingers.

You idly blink at the side of his face a few times, eyeing his side profile. He truly is a sight to behold. A chorus of swear words start clouding your mind. Taehyung was down to fool around with you and you didn’t take that opportunity? You must be fucking crazy.

Well, in your defense, he wasn’t obvious about it. But you do wish you’d gotten to spend at least one night with him, just to see what you’re missing out on. He has never hidden his wild lifestyle, partying every weekend, meeting new people everyday, it makes you so very curious because you aren’t like that at all.

You like staying home, you like being in bed, you like rewatching your favorite shows on Netflix.

The soft knock on the door to your office snaps you out of your thoughts, your head automatically turning to look at the door as it’s being pushed open.

One of the long-term interns turned employee pushes his face into the room, politely bowing his head at you and Taehyung as his eyes peek at you above the rim of his glasses.

You’re acquainted with Seokjin but he’s really quiet and doesn’t really engage in much conversation, though, he’s always been polite and has never made you uncomfortable or anything.

He did once buy you a brand new, expensive keyboard and cursor because he felt so guilty for spilling your cup of coffee all over them. He kept apologizing even when you told him it was okay. He returned the following day with a new set and insisted on installing it for you.

Or another time when you left him speechless for buying him a box of chocolates for Valentines day, despite the fact you had bought one for everyone at work. He almost dropped to his knees to thank you, which made Taehyung burst into laughter as you tried to stop the giant with broad shoulders from being so dramatic.

You always do your best to be nice to him because everyone at work kind of dodges him, in fear of having an awkward conversation or assuming he’ll start rambling about his Pokemon card collection.

He has never said anything about owning a Pokemon card collection or anything of the sort. It’s just one of the many dumb stereotypical jokes they’ve made up about him, simply because he graduated top of his class, wears dorky sweaters, has glasses sitting on top the bridge of his nose and is socially awkward.

Or is he? They’ve never attempted to even have a conversation with him that lasted longer than 30 seconds.

With you, he isn’t awkward. He’s quiet but he’s not awkward. Yes, you have to do most of the talking which can make it awkward for you but he’s just a guy that keeps to himself. Who wouldn’t when they get treated like this?

He walks further in, muttering a low ‘excuse me’ before turning his body to address you, “Y/N, are today’s report files done?” Seokjin quietly asks you, referring to all the complaints you have to print out that need to be on your manager’s desk at the end of every day.

You nod and point your chin towards a bundle of files on your desk. He smiles at you politely and you return the smile, unfortunately, yours is fake. You’ve had a shit week and you can’t bring yourself to start small talk with him like you usually would.

He must’ve noticed you’re not in the mood so he just gives you a curt nod and takes the bundle of papers, fingers wrapping tightly around it as he spins on his heels and heads out of your office again. He disappears as quickly as he appeared.

You don’t pay much attention to him as you return your gaze to the screen in front of you, a quiet sigh leaving you as you continue to do what you’re paid to do.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You absolutely hate going grocery shopping on Saturdays, which is why you usually don’t. But when you swung the door to your fridge open and found out you had run out of milk, it had you cursing like a sailor. To think you’d have to start your Sunday morning without your mandatory bowl of Frosted Flakes and cup of coffee has you grunting in annoyance as you reach for a plastic store basket.

You sling it over your forearm and start walking around the store, already knowing your way around your go-to supermarket. Your eyes trail some of the new products, fingers silently tapping the handle of the basket against your forearm. You make your way to the refrigerated dairy section of the store, eyes skimming the see-through glass doors until you find what you’re looking for.

You fill your basket with some cheese, yoghurt and 3 bottles of whole milk before closing the glass door and turning on your heels. You start heading towards the checkout counter because you don’t want to be here any longer than you need to but your feet slow down in their pace once your eyes fall on a rack of condoms.

Your eyes scan the different brands, the different sizes, the different flavors. Even multiple types of lube hang on rods in front of you and Taehyung’s words instantly come rushing back to you.

Is he right? Should you just fuck it out of your system?

You aren’t the type to really have one-night-stands but Taehyung is. And he’s the happiest, most carefree guy you know. His happy-go-lucky attitude is branded on your brain wrinkles and you crave that same carelessness.

Before you can even let your rational self talk you out of it, you reach for a random box and turn it over, eyes skimming over the small white letters on the package.

Pffft. Extra thin for maximum stimulation. Ultrasmooth inside for a more natural feel. Made from premium latex.

Your eyes linger for a moment longer before you hear your name coming from somewhere on your right side.

You turn your head to look at the person, only to be met with the quiet long-term intern turned employee you’ve worked with for a few months now, Kim Seokjin. His fluffy brown hair is draped over his forehead like always, kissing the edge of his signature silver-rimmed glasses. His plump lips are big and pink, stretching to give you a polite smile.

“Oh, Seokjin?” you say with surprise in your tone, the box of condoms in your hands completely slipping your mind.

With a single nod of his head, his gaze slowly drops down to the box of rubbers in your hands that you’ve been ogling at.

“Having trouble choosing?” he asks in a neutral tone, the question catching you off guard.

You glance at the condoms again with a frown as if you’d forgotten you were even holding it, heat instantly rushing to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment. It’s only now that you realize you’re still holding a pack of rubbers that are made to cover a penis before it enters a hole.

You quickly place it back in panic, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips, “Oh, I uh.. I was just curious,” you mumble, shaking your head at the fact you let that lunatic talk you into checking out condoms in public. Damn you, Taehyung.

“Are you sure? I can answer some questions you may have.” His words are so well enunciated and polite that it relaxes you a bit.

You’re both adults. Adults have sex. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, not in the slightest.

His soft tone reassures you that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about so you glance up at him for a moment. You idly stare at him for a few seconds, committing his features to memory.

He’s quite beautiful. Very beautiful actually, you always seem to forget that fact about him but you’re reminded of it every single time you’re near him. Unfortunately, his personality isn’t really anything interesting so you don’t feel that attracted to him.

“Y/N?” he says with his brows pinched together, hidden behind his fluffy brown locks.

You must’ve been ogling him like a fucking freak for him to be calling you out like this. Fuck.

“Oh, right,” you blurt out, “well, I was wondering…” You don’t even know how to go about this but his calm and soft demeanor makes you feel at ease, despite your heart racing in your chest.

You continue, “I just wanna have some as backups at home but I’m not sure which size or brand to choose.” You’re relieved that you managed to say that without stumbling over your words but the hiccup in your chest is still being persistent as hell, though. You can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

“This brand is good,” he says without hesitation, pointing at a black box before tugging it off the metal rod and handing it to you. “Size medium is your safest option. They fit most people.” The words leave his mouth so nonchalantly, as if he’s talking about the weather.

If he notices how surprised you are at his reaction, he doesn’t show nor comment on it.

“If they don’t fit a regular medium then they’ll usually have their own.” His eyes finally meet yours as the words leave his lips, still no sign of judgment or disgust on his features. It makes you drop your tensed shoulders in relief.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” you reply quietly, nodding your head as you process his words. It makes sense, of course. If someone has an unusual size, they’ll have their own condoms, no? Whether that be too small or too big.

“Thank you, even though that was more than a little embarrassing,” you chuckle to deter the embarrassment you’re experiencing at the moment, placing the black box of condoms in your basket before turning to face him again.

There’s a flicker of something unusual in his eyes and it catches you off guard for a moment but he quickly offers you a smile, his perfectly straight pearly whites making an appearance. You try not to be stereotypical but you can’t help but wonder whether that must’ve been the result of braces.

“Anytime.”

With that, he spins on his heels and disappears behind a corner at the end of the aisle. You slowly exhale the deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding and press the back of your hand against your cheek, the heat from your cheeks spreading through your skin, knuckles and fingers.

You gently shake your head in hopes of cooling down and head toward the checkout counter, waiting your turn as you unload your unpaid products onto the black conveyor belt.

The line is slow but at least it’s moving. When it’s finally your turn, you offer the cashier a polite smile as you reach for your wallet but you’re stopped by a hand on your elbow. You snap your head in the direction of the person that’s touching you, only to be met with familiar beautiful brown eyes behind thin silver-rimmed glasses.

“Sorry, I’m kind of in a rush. Do you mind me butting in?” Seokjin asks, holding up the products he’s holding in his hand. You’re surprised by the sudden interruption but you shake your head, muttering a quick ‘of course not’.

He quietly thanks you and begins by placing a bag of coffee machine capsules, a bag of Doritos and a small black box onto the conveyor belt, next to your stuff.

He walks around you from the back and presses his card to the payment terminal, paying for all your stuff as well. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, lips slightly parting as you watch him bag your goods.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you tap his bicep to get his attention.

He simply shrugs his shoulders and offers you a kind smile, his hand coming up to the bottom rim of his right lens, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with the back of his index finger. You suppose paying for your stuff is his way of thanking you for letting him cut in line.

Your gaze shifts toward the products that he hasn’t bagged yet, the black box of condoms catching your eye. You pick up the box, thinking they’re yours but you notice the golden ‘XL’ letters immediately. That is definitely not the same box. Is he buying you another box of condoms as a thank you?

What does an ‘extra large’ dick even look like, though? That sounds ridiculous. “I thought you said mediums were fine?” you chuckle as you turn the box over to examine it properly.

“Oh,” he pauses, “those are for me.”

His words process in your mind a little too slowly to your liking. As soon as you realize what he just told you, your head snaps in his direction and he’s already looking at you with a small awkward smile on his pretty lips.

You absentmindedly blink at him a few times, your mind screaming at you to say something and end this excruciating awkwardness.

“Oh,” you start, “oh! Right, yeah. Of course. My bad.” You drop the box of condoms back onto the counter as if it burned your hand, heat spreading through your face, ears and neck all over again. And your burning cheeks had just started cooling off from the previous encounter, great.

A soft chuckle escapes his throat quietly, his head shaking in dismissal. “It’s fine. No worries,” he says as he gathers his stuff and loads them into another plastic bag before handing you yours.

“I’ll see you at work,” he pauses as he turns to look at you one last time, “Have a good weekend, Y/N.”

And just like that, he turns around and starts heading out, an air of his confidence still lingering around you. Your eyes intently watch his retreating figure as if you’re in a trance, his broad shoulders on display in the black shirt he’s wearing.

You can’t believe that just happened and what’s more unbelievable is how calm and nonchalant he was about the whole thing.

At work he seems so introverted, so shy, so timid. But today, he approached you, initiated small talk and even helped you with your concerns about fucking condoms.

Not to mention the fact that you just made him tell you that he has a monster in his boxers.

What the fuck just happened?

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Your legs lazily carry you toward your desk the following Monday, feet dragging across the floor and shoulders slouched. Taehyung greets you from his desk as chirpy as ever and you simply nod in response, plopping down into your seat with a grunt.

He laughs at your grumpiness with a shake of his head before he returns to the work that’s waiting for his attention. You bring your hand up to shield your mouth as you quietly yawn, desperately in need of some coffee. You glance to the side, batting your lashes prettily at Taehyung with your hands clasped together under your chin.

Taehyung turns to look at you, an amused frown on his face. “What do you want?”

You pout at him, tilting your head to the side as you continue to bat your eyelashes. “Coffee,” you innocently say, making your eyes big and doe-like.

He laughs and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of his index fingers. He leans back with a loud groan and slouches in his seat, staring up at the ceiling with his hands on his stomach as he turns in his chair from side to side.

He loudly sighs. “Only because you’re my favorite co-worker.” He finally gets up, yanking his phone out of the charger and tucking it into his pocket.

“I’m the only co-worker you see!” you exclaim with a scowl, watching as he blows you a kiss and heads out of your shared office. You childishly huff and cross your arms, spinning in your chair as you stare at the ceiling. You should at least start your PC up but you don’t think you could even get your brain to work and do something as simple as that.

You snatch your phone off your desk and check the time, 8:05AM. Too fucking early to do anything. You grunt and toss your phone back onto your desk, playing with the earring in your earlobe as you wait for Taehyung’s return.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room again, two cups of steaming liquid in his hands as he pushes the door open with his hip. He struts up to you and places the cup next to your keyboard. He brings his free hand up to flick the back of your head, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You snap your head in his direction, one of your hands flying up to the back of your head and your other hand reaches out to hit him but he quickly dodges you with a giggle, making sure he doesn’t spill his own cup of tea—he hates coffee—and burn his fingers.

He plops down in his seat and takes a sip, humming in delight with his eyes closed as the warm liquid slides down his esophagus. He pulls his lips away from the rim of his cup with an obnoxious ‘ah’ exhale which makes you groan in response.

You’ve never met anyone as annoying as him.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness and huff, a small smile on your lips as you eventually mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ to him. You take a sip of your coffee and moan, enjoying the taste on your tongue.

“So, how was that date?” you ask him, remembering how he mentioned something about the cute guy asking him out again.

To your surprise, he groans and puts his paper cup down on his desk with a loud thud, almost spilling the piping hot liquid everywhere. “He was a fucking asshole about me liking women as well so I called it quits.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, a slight stinging in your chest at his words. People can be such assholes.

“Oh, that’s horrible. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” You turn your chair to face him, a small pout on your lips.

“It’s okay, I fucked his friend anyways.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you scrunch your nose up at the shameless confession. You’re grateful you weren’t sipping on your hot coffee because that information would’ve easily burned your throat.

He snorts at your reaction, picking up his cup and taking another sip of his lemon tea, hissing at the heat on his tongue. “What about you? How was your weekend?” he asks you after he’s swallowed it down, eyes curiously glancing at you.

You shrug your shoulders. “It was fine. Boring.” The last word leaves your lips in a mumble, downing the rest of your coffee in one big gulp after it cools down a bit.

“I told you to loosen up, didn’t I? Have some fun, you’re young, you should be enjoying your twenties.”

His words instantly throw you back into Saturday, a twitch in your eyebrows as you recall the bizarre scene clearly.

“Oh, my God,” you mumble, staring at the computer in front of you before turning to look at him with big eyes.

Taehyung’s eyebrows raise in surprise before scrunching together, tilting his head to the side in curiosity as he looks back at you. “What?”

You pinch the tip of your nose and sniffle to prepare yourself as you think about how to explain your strange incident from this weekend. “What do you think about Seokjin?”

His frown doesn’t let up. “The quiet intern?”

“Yeah.”

The confusion on his face turns into complete perplexity, the question catching him completely off guard. “Uh? I mean…” He confusingly shakes his head to collect his thoughts.

“Pretty cute, tall, broad shoulders, geek, boring as hell,” he pauses. “Why?”

You nod to his words as you listen, agreeing to what he’s saying, “Would you believe me if I told you last Saturday he…” you begin, slowly processing the words you plan on saying out loud for the first time since it happened. “…He bought me condoms?” you finish, still uncertain about it as the words leave your mouth.

He instantly lunges at you in his chair, big eyes and a big shit-eating grin on his lips. “Wait, what the fuck? What are you talking about?” He gets out of his chair and places his big hands on the armrests of your chair as he hunches directly over you.

You sink into your seat, a bit surprised by his proximity as he leans into your face like he’s trying to decipher whether you’re lying or not. You try to ignore the lump forming in your throat. Taehyung is still a very attractive man after all, even if he’s your friend.

“Yeah, and it’s all your fault. If he didn’t see me ogling the condom section like a fucking weirdo because you told me to loosen up, that awkward interaction wouldn’t have happened.” You push your hand flat against his hard chest to push him back but he doesn’t budge, too intrigued by the exciting events of your boring weekend.

He laughs when he tells you, “Oh, that nerd wants to fuck you so bad.”

You screech, adding your other hand to his chest which finally allows you to push him off. He laughs loudly, running a hand through his fluffy golden locks as he stumbles back a bit. He still looks absolutely flabbergasted.

“No, you freak. He was being nice,” you mumble, disregarding the thought completely.

“Tell me everything,” he says with a smirk as he leans his butt against your desk, facing you with his arms crossed over his chest.

You explain the entire thing in vivid detail as you remember it, mind wandering to the way Seokjin’s brown eyes stared at you as you picked up his box of condoms. The image will never leave your mind.

You look around to make sure no one’s going to barge into your office and hear you talk about the strange conversation you’re having with your co-worker about another employee’s private matters (and parts). “Then after he paid, I picked up that box and he said those were for him.”

“Oh, so he actually fucks.” He strokes his chin at the new information. “What size were his condoms?” Taehyung can’t help but smirk, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

Your response is just a grunt, your attention returning to the computer in front of you. You completely ignore his question in hopes he’ll drop the topic but he’s Taehyung.

“What? Is he walking around with a little dick? Or is he blessed?” He nudges you with his hip, causing you to groan loudly as you try to push him off your desk. “Come on, I went and got you coffee.”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips as you look up at him, guilty about the fact you’re about to reveal private information about another colleague. “XLs.”

You watch as his expression completely becomes that of a cartoon character. Eyes widened, jaw dropped, eyebrows raised.

“Shut the fuck up!” he beams. Grabs you by the shoulders. Shakes you slightly. You childishly groan his name but you make no efforts to stop him.

“Damn, who would’ve thought?” he mutters as he drops his hands from your shoulders to lean back against your desk, hands tucked into his pockets. He blankly stares ahead, eyes glued to the white wall in front of him as he continues to think about the revelation. “Shit. Nerd with a big dick. I should’ve called dibs.”

“Get back to work, you horndog.” You nudge his hip with your elbow, finally getting him to go back to his chair with a low chuckle.

“How long until you think he tries to make a move on you?” Taehyung purrs, taking a final sip of his tea. He crumples up the paper cup. Tosses it across the room. Completely misses the trash can. He isn’t the athletic type.

You shake your head in dismissal, a scowl on your face. “He’s not going to make a move on me, he was just being nice,” you say before you pause and momentarily glance at him to add, “don’t make it weird.”

He chuckles lowly, muttering a quiet, worthless apology. He begins, “Well, just because he’s big doesn’t mean he knows what to do with it. It’s not about the size of the wave but about the motion in the oce–”

You cut him off with a loud groan, “That’s enough out of you, freak.”

With a final laugh, he finally drops the topic of your timid co-worker’s penis and returns his focus to his work.

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The rest of the week goes by so damn slow. And so does the next week. And the week after that. And the one after that.

It’s been weeks, months. Work is taking its toll on you again. It makes you twice as excited about going out to eat with a few of your friends this Saturday.

When Saturday afternoon finally rolls around, you take your mandatory everything-shower. You take your time washing your body and hair, shaving every nook and cranny of your body and exfoliating your skin.

You feel good.

Once you hop out the shower and wrap a fresh towel around your naked body, you saunter into your bedroom. You reach for your phone, unlocking it by typing in your passcode and instantly checking the groupchat.

[3:54PM]

Olivia

The reservation is at 6, don’t be late!

Olivia

I’m looking at YOU Taehyung

Taehyung

Now why am I in it

Taehyung

See how I do nothing and still get pulled into shit

Olivia

😒 Shut up

Hoseok

you get pulled into shit because you’re always at the center of it

Taehyung

Yall are some hating ass people bro

[4:01PM]

You

no ur just dumb

Taehyung

Oh I’M the dumb one OK

You roll your eyes and chuckle as you toss your phone onto your bed, getting ready to do your hair and makeup after you’ve slid on your black lace panties and matching bra.

After you’ve finished styling your hair exactly as you like it, you start with makeup.

You keep it pretty minimal. You hold your hand mirror in front of your face and get to work. You just color your brows in a bit, apply some concealer and bronzer. A pretty shade of blush to the apples of your cheeks and pretty wings of liner on each outer corner of your eyes. You pick up your phone to text Taehyung, in desperate need of a second opinion.

[5:13PM]

You

falsies or no falsies

You apply a coat of mascara while you wait for a response, making sure not to get any black clots stuck in your lashes. You soon apply a nice brown lip liner and a nude-peachy liquid lipstick on top, giving you the perfect kissable pout.

Your phone vibrates.

[5:15PM]

Taehyung

Falsies. Always falsies

[5:15PM]

You

👍 thnx

You chuckle as you apply lash glue to your pretty cat fake eyelashes you got from some random drugstore and place them on your desk gently as you wait for the glue to get tacky.

Your phone vibrates again.

[5:16PM]

Taehyung

I honestly don’t know what the fuck falsies even are but the more of anything the better

[5:16PM]

You

fake eyelashes dumbass

[5:16PM]

Taehyung

Oh. Show me the difference?

You sigh in exasperation as you apply fake eyelashes to only one of your eyes, tinkering with the band in the inner corner of your eye, tongue poked out at the corner of your mouth in concentration.

Once you’re satisfied with the lashes, you glance into your vanity mirror to see what it looks like from afar. You put your phone up and open up the front camera, staring into the camera with a sultry look to emphasize the difference of fake lashes versus no fake lashes, but with a peace sign to make it somewhat playful.

[5:19PM]

You

(image attachment)

You fight the urge to nibble on your bottom lip, to not ruin your perfect lip look of tonight as you anxiously wait for his response. You’re running out of time and you still have to get dressed.

[5:20PM]

Taehyung

Both are nice but definitely with

[5:20PM]

Taehyung

You look good

You smile to yourself when you read the message, beginning to prepare the other fake lashes.

Once you’ve wrapped up your makeup with a spritz of setting spray directly onto your face, you fan it down with your hand and place your hand mirror back in its rightful place.

You get up from your little vanity and head towards your closet, fishing out the white silk button up that compliments your waist and chest so beautifully and the black knee-length pencil skirt that hugs your ass and hips so well, making you want to bend yourself over any surface.

You snap out of your ludicrous thoughts and quickly slip your clothes on for tonight, walking up to your vanity as you’re buttoning up your shirt. You reach for a gold layered necklace and wrap it around your neck, leaving the top 2 buttons unbuttoned so you can flaunt your pretty necklace.

You pick up your favorite perfume and spray yourself with the sublime scent, humming in delight as the scent enters your nostrils.

You push the needles of the small golden hoop earrings you fished out of your drawer through the already existing holes of your earlobes, clasping them up and turning to look at yourself in the mirror one last time before sliding a gold bracelet onto your left wrist.

You grab your small purse, tucking your phone and lipgloss inside as you head into your hallway, pushing your feet into your black pumps before unlocking your front door and heading out, making sure to lock up behind you.

You look and feel good for the first time in a while. Tonight’s going to be fun.

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Your night is filled with laughter and chitchat, surrounded by people you enjoy being around.

“He was so drunk he literally threw up all over that poor girl’s Louboutins.” Olivia goes on and on about the crazy night she spent with her best friend, Hoseok, last weekend. Taehyung is enjoying the outrageous story, laughing and slapping Hoseok’s shoulder as he listens to every word.

Hoseok, who has visibly reddened in his face, groans loudly, “You literally snorted so hard at that guy’s joke that you spat in his eye.” He shoots back in defense, ready to start their signature back and forth sibling-like bickering.

They continue on and on but it’s nearing 8PM and your social battery is running out.

As if he could read your mind, Taehyung waves a waiter over and asks for the check.

Taehyung had offered to go for drinks somewhere else but Hoseok and Olivia have to get up early and do some volunteering in her hometown’s new pub that’s co-owned by her parents.

You’re thankful, though, you really just want to go home. The night life just isn’t for you, you just want to cuddle up in your bed, watch a sappy movie or thrilling series and go to sleep. Like you do pretty much during all your weekends.

You excuse yourself to go to the restroom but on your way there, you hear your name being called.

Spinning on your heels, your eyes scan the area, trying to locate the voice that called out to you. Your patience is running thin and you’re about to continue your strut to the restroom until a soft hand gently cups your elbow.

You turn your head to look over your shoulder, met with chestnut brown eyes and big plump lips. It takes you a moment to recognize him without his fluffy hair draped over his forehead and no glasses decorating his eyes.

Your frown must be getting to him because he speaks up again, “Forgotten my name, have you?” he teases, dropping his hand from your arm.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when his familiar voice booms in your ears, flabbergasted by the sight in front of you.

He’s wearing a 2 piece black suit, a beige dress up shirt under his black suit jacket, unbuttoned at the top. Even his damn neck is gorgeous, how is that possible?

His brown hair is in a side part, forehead and eyebrows on display, his bangs kissing the ends of his brows. You weren’t even sure he had eyebrows because his hair was always covering them. His signature silver rimmed glasses are nowhere to be seen and you assume he must be wearing contact lenses.

He’s absolutely fucking gorgeous. You already knew that but literally, what the hell?

Your brain is screaming at you to answer him already and not ogle him like you want to drop onto your knees and give him the sloppiest blowjob of his life.

“Of course not,” you blurt out, “Seokjin… right?” you finish, uncertainty in your tone.

He chuckles at your playful guess, not taking offense to your doubt. “Yeah,” he pauses, “what are you doing here? You look fantastic, by the way.” His gaze drags up your figure quickly and your heart jolts in between your lungs, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Oh,” you begin, “thank you. I was out with some friends. What about you?” You have to pretend that compliment didn’t just make your insides clench.

He scratches the back of his head with a defeated smile. “I was supposed to go on a date but I think I got stood up because she was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago and she’s not answering her phone,” he chuckles with an air of embarrassment.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at his words. People are such fucking assholes.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, placing a comforting hand on his bicep. Your hands tense on his arm because touching his hard bicep isn’t a smart thing for you to do right now. “I never understood how people can bring themselves to do something like that. It’s such a shitty thing to do.”

He simply shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll wait 10 more minutes and then go home,” he muses, glancing down at the silver watch wrapped around his left wrist.

You slowly nod as you drag your gaze up his body. Wow. You can’t stress this enough. He is absolutely ethereal.

“Enjoy your night, Y/N.” A smile stretches onto his lips as he takes a step backwards, still holding eye contact with you before he turns on his heels and returns to his table which isn’t far from the restrooms.

You stand there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts before you silently make your way into the restroom with a heavy heart.

How unfair. He’s such a sweetheart, why would anyone treat him like that? He’s respectful, well-mannered, absolutely gorgeous and allegedly has a big dick. He’s a complete catch.

You abruptly put a stop to your own thoughts. What kind of a hypocrite are you?

You literally don’t pay him any attention because he doesn’t ooze confidence or act like a bad boy with a foul attitude that are beasts in bed. You are one of the assholes you’re complaining about.

With a long glare at the mirror in front of you, staring yourself down in disgust, your heart won’t let up. He doesn’t deserve this. No one does.

You reapply your lipgloss after making up your mind, retouching some of your makeup and fixing some of the hairs that are out of place before you strut out of the restroom and return to your table.

You glance at Seokjin on your way to your table but he’s immersed in his phone, absentmindedly scrolling. Your heart sinks at the sight again.

“Took you long enough, I already paid,” Taehyung mutters, nodding toward the empty seats that once belonged to Hoseok and Olivia.

“I’m staying here.” Your words make him glance at you in surprise, a slight raise to his brows.

“What’s going on?” he pries because he’s Taehyung.

You shake your head quickly, dismissing the concern in his tone. “Everything’s okay,” you say in a reassuring tone.

“Why are you staying here?” he asks, eyes furiously scanning the area.

You obnoxiously sigh, he won’t stop prying so you might as well just tell him. “Seokjin got stood up and I feel bad for him. I’ll join him for like… half an hour.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he processes your words. There haven’t been any note-worthy incidents between you and Seokjin since the condom-thing so Taehyung never brought him up again but just as you thought he could finally act like an adult, a smug smirk creeps on his lips.

“You’re definitely getting fuc–”

“Out.” You cut him off, pushing him toward the exit.

He laughs as he heads out the door of the restaurant, throwing you his attempt at an ahegao face from behind the glass of the window outside. You roll your eyes in exasperation, holding up your middle finger in response before you start making your way to Seokjin’s table.

He’s still on his phone, elbows on the table as he mindlessly scrolls through whatever app he’s on.

You inhale deeply before approaching him, pulling out the chair opposite of him and plopping down on it.

This catches his attention. He peeks up at you from his phone, eyes glancing at you through his brows in surprise and confusion.

You return the eye contact and place your own elbows on the table, slightly leaning forward to close some of the distance between you two.

“Long time no see,” you joke.

He frowns for a moment longer before he chuckles and he locks his phone, turning it face down onto the table next to his utensils. “What’s up?”

You stare at him for a little while longer while he awaits your response in confusion. You part your pretty lips to speak, “That date is probably not coming. Thought I’d join you for a while, I don’t have any plans anyways.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, thick lips parting to say something but no words come out. He leans back into his chair, a certain look in his eyes that you can only describe as intrigue as he shuts his mouth again.

You tilt your head to the side, pretty eyes still intently watching him with a glimmer of something in your eyes that even you can’t put your finger on.

“That’s nice of you. Why, though?” he asks, voice neutral as if he genuinely just wants to know why you would do that.

You bring your shoulders up and drop them right away. “I just wanted to.”

He glances at you for a few seconds. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes but it’s gone by the time you’ve realized it’s skepticism. “It’s not out of pity, right?”

Your heartbeat stutters for a moment at how his voice seemed to drop an octave when he asked that, sweat forming on your palms. You quickly compose yourself and shake your head. “No.”

“Well then,” he says as he glances at the seemingly expensive watch wrapped around his left wrist, “would you like to order something?”

“Nah.” You shake your head at his offer because you really just want to go home but quickly realize he must not have eaten yet, since he was waiting for someone that never came. “But you must be hungry, right?”

He brings his fingers up to his face, absentmindedly rubbing his shaven chin as his eyes continue to study you. “Yeah, but I heard the food here takes quite some time to get to your table so I was just planning on leaving and eating something at home or something.”

“Hm,” you hum, fingers fidgeting with the hoop earring in your right earlobe. “I have some leftover lasagna at home. Would you like some?” The words leave your mouth before you can even think them through. Why the hell would you invite him into your home?

Thankfully, Seokjin is more of an introvert who also prefers the comfort of his own home, so he’ll probably decline.

“Sure.”

Your chest visibly stutters but you quickly compose yourself and rise to your feet in a hurry, hoping he won’t notice the nervous switch in your demeanor. “Cool, let’s go,” is all you say as you scramble to gather your purse.

He wordlessly blinks at you a few times before quietly chuckling and reaching for his phone as he tucks it into the pocket of his slacks.

He calls a waiter over and explains the situation before walking up to you, trying to get through the sea of bodies that are present. He finally reaches you as you wait for him by the exit of the building and places his hand on the small of your back as he motions for you to walk out the door first.

His touch, not even directly to your skin, sends an instant volt of electricity down your vertebrae. Stop suddenly acting a fucking fool around him when you didn’t even notice his presence before, you think to yourself.

“Did you come here by car?” he asks, taking his car keys out of his pocket before turning to look at you.

You shake your head. “Taehyung came to pick me up.”

He nods to your words whilst leading you to his car, warm hand still on your back. “Kim Taehyung? From work?” He leads you to a black Mercedes and you don’t know a lot about cars but this one looks insanely expensive. How does he have the money to own a car like that with the same salary you have?

“Oh uh,” you say as you snap out of your thoughts, “yeah.”

He opens the door to the passenger seat’s side for you and holds your hand for support, his other hand protecting your head as you get in.

Wow. Who would’ve thought he was such a gentleman?

It’s a stark contrast from when Taehyung called you a sexy bitch and told you to hop in his car earlier this evening.

Seokjin closes the door on your side and makes his way around the front of his car to the driver’s seat. Your eyes stay glued to him like a moth to a flame as he makes his way in, your heartbeat quickening again.

Why are you so nervous? It’s all Taehyung’s fault and his crazy scenarios.

“Earth to Y/N?”

You must’ve seemed lost in thought for too long because your nostrils suddenly fill up with a vanilla and musk scent, making you snap out of your filthy mind. Seokjin has leaned into your body, arm reaching across your chest as he tugs the seatbelt from your side over your torso and clicks it into the buckle.

Your breath is stuck in your airways as you freeze at his proximity, your palms growing sweaty again. “Oh, sorry.”

You don’t look at him as he leans back into his seat and buckles his own seatbelt, surprisingly not commenting on your apology. He presses a button on his dashboard, making the car roar to life before he places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks over his shoulder.

He starts backing out of the parking spot despite having a camera right above the car radio. Old habits die hard, you suppose.

You glance at him for a moment but immediately regret it. He is so fucking hot.

He must’ve sensed your eyes on him because for a moment, he makes eye contact with you whilst he’s still reversing out of the parking slot. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as his eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back over his shoulder again.

He didn’t smile or anything, just glanced into your eyes and returned his attention to backing out of the parking spot.

Heat instantly rushes to your face and you turn your head to look out the window on your side, forcing yourself to not make the same mistake of gawking at him again. Not when you’re so close to him, at least.

He turns on the car radio after asking you for your home address and typing it into the built-in navigation system of his car before he accelerates and starts driving to your destination.

“Not to pry but are you and Taehyung…” His voice gets quieter as it reaches the end of his sentence, eyes still looking at the road in front of him.

“Huh?” You turn your head to look at him, mesmerized by his amazing side profile.

He slightly turns his head to look at you for a moment before returning his attention back to the road, a look on his face as if to tell you it’s obvious what he’s hinting at.

“Oh,” you say as you realize what he’s implying. You shake your head quickly and blurt out, “No, not at all.”

He only nods to your response, eyes unwaveringly staring ahead of him.

The rest of the car drive is uncomfortably quiet, the soft pop music playing is the only thing that’s keeping this silence between you two from being excruciating.

Luckily, the drive isn’t long and you’re in front of your apartment complex in less than 10 minutes. As you reach for your purse and unbuckle your seatbelt, Seokjin has already gotten out of the car and jogged to your side to open the door for you.

He holds his hand out for you to take and you do, hoping to the Lord that he can’t tell how sweaty your palms are. You swing your legs out of the car, placing your heels onto the concrete with a loud click as you get out. You let go of his hand to smooth out your skirt but really, you’re just wiping the sweat off your palms.

He locks his car with a button on the car keys and follows behind you as you fish your keys out of your purse, opening the door to the entrance that leads to the lobby.

The walk up the stairs is silent aside from your obnoxious heels clicking against the tiles, making you wince with each step you take. You make it to your front door and unlock, walking in and kicking your heels off. There’s a significant difference in your height now but he doesn’t comment on it and instead neatly places his shoes by the door as he closes it behind him.

You lead him to your living room and motion for him to sit down while you go and warm up the leftovers.

“This is a nice place,” he muses as he sits down on your couch, looking around to scan the room.

You quietly thank him as you disappear into the kitchen, taking the container out of the fridge and pulling open the cupboard to grab a plate for him.

This is starting to feel like it’s going to be a long night.

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With the empty plate of lasagna remnants on your coffee table, you’re seated right across from Seokjin who is on the couch opposite of you. The two of you had some small talk about work and cooking recipes whilst he ate but the silence has been going on for about 2 minutes now and it’s becoming uncomfortable.

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he speaks up, “You don’t have to sit so far, you know. I don’t bite,” he says with a teaseful tone. “Unless you want me to.”

The words that leave his mouth so smoothly single handedly knock the oxygen out of your lungs, cause a twitch in your lips and bring a raise to your brows. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his face, his smug face. Did he drink earlier?

“Did you have something to drink back in that restaurant?” you nervously chuckle, clasping your hands together to stop yourself from fidgeting in front of him.

His shoulders bounce with the way he chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Would I have driven us here if I drank?”

It almost sounds like he’s mocking you and heat starts bubbling in your stomach at the way the words rolled off his tongue so smugly.

“What’s all this then?” you ask, waving your hand in a circular motion in front of you, aimed at him.

He tilts his head to the side in question. He silently reaches for his glass of water and a small smirk creeps onto his lips when he speaks after taking a sip and says, “Elaborate?”

The bubbling heat in your stomach has seeped to the rest of your body, burning in your veins all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

You stare at him for a moment longer before saying, “This façade. This persona or attitude you’ve got going on.”

The barely-there smirk stays glued on his lips, his hooded eyes make his gaze feel that much more penetrating.

“Façade?” he repeats, bringing his hand up to rub his chin, the silver watch around his wrist glaring in the light coming from your corner lamp.

“Yeah, you’re nothing like how you are at work.”

He slowly nods to your words, a glimmer of mischief flickering in his eyes that have gone from pools of honey brown to bottomless pits of jet black. “What makes you think this is the façade and not the persona I got going on at work?”

His words process in your mind but you can’t bring yourself to understand what he’s saying. Is he implying he’s always like this and the way he is at work is just an act?

“Why would you put on an act at work?” You lean further back into your couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you swing your right leg over your left to keep yourself from bouncing your leg up and down in anxiety.

“Because those people don’t need to know me.”

Your frown deepens at his words. “Those people? We’re your colleagues, Seokjin.”

“Yeah?” he muses, placing his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, hovering his face over the coffee table that’s separating the two of you. “Tell me, if you told them that you were with me right now, what would their reaction be?”

His question shuts you up right away.

Aside from Taehyung who already knows, your co-workers would most likely tease you. You wouldn’t call Seokjin the punching bag of your workplace but he’s definitely not favored in any way. They’ll usually have him do the work that they don’t want to do, treat him like he’s not there. You’re the only one that treats him nicely.

You press your lips into a thin line as your eyes visibly soften at his question, a guilty look on your pretty face.

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he leans back into the sofa, thighs spread and hands on his upper thighs. With a curt nod, he arrogantly adds, “That’s what I thought.”

You swallow thickly and look away from him, uncrossing your arms as you subconsciously fidget with your fingers again, picking at your manicured nails.

You can’t blame him, you suppose. You think about all the times people have dismissed him or dropped their load on his desk without another word, the vivid memories making your heart sink into your stomach.

“Why are you so nervous?” His question makes you snap your head in his direction, eyes slowly widening at him. How did he know?

You blurt out, “I’m not nervous. What makes you think that?”

“Why were your hands sweaty when I helped you get out of the car?”

Your mind travels at lightning speed to come up with a rebuttal but all you can say is, “I’ve always had clammy hands.” Dirty liar.

You try to keep eye contact with him to seem assertive but your pathetic heartbeat quickens once he rises to his feet and walks around the coffee table, toward you.

You shoot up in your seat, uncrossing your legs as he closes the distance between you two. You tilt your chin up, glancing at him through the pretty lashes you chose today as he stands before you, menacingly looming over your body.

“May I?” he asks, holding out his right hand but you have no idea what he’s asking of you.

You slowly and confusingly hold your left hand out to him but he gently turns your hand over by your wrist so the back of your hand faces down and your palm faces up. The tips of his fingers softly graze your palm before moving across as he presses the tips of his index and middle finger against the center of your wrist, right under the length of your thumb.

You stare at his fingers on your skin during the process but still being confused, you look back up at him.

The tension in the air can be cut with a dull butter knife.

His eyes aren’t on your face, instead, they’re still glued to where his fingers are pressed to your skin. His eyebrows are pinched together and he looks in a deep state of concentration. If you believed in magic, you’d swear he’s casting a spell on you right now.

Then, he subtly nods and lets go of your hand, watching how it flops back down to your lap. You continue to stare up at him, the dryness in your throat moving up and spreading throughout your mouth.

“Hands sweaty, heart rate quickened, breath heavy, fingers fidgeting, forcing yourself to look into my eyes,” he lists and then concludes, “You’re nervous.”

You realize he just took your damn pulse to prove his point.

He backs away and silently makes his way back to the opposite couch with a certain smugness, a clear indicator of his satisfaction at victory as he drops his ass back onto the couch. You stare at him with your mouth agape, a slight pinch between your brows and your mind racing with words to say.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” you start, “I’m confused. I don’t know what to make of you right now. You’re confusing me.” You finally find the coursge to speak up but your voice is quiet, your words almost incoherent.

“Well,” he pauses, “I don’t really owe you an explanation.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, a bit taken aback by his bluntness. “Can’t tell if you’re being an asshole or just bold,” you murmur, wondering if he’s just saying this to get a reaction out of you or if he’s just like this. He can’t be like this. This is not Seokjin.

Is it? Did you ever really bother to get to know him better?

He simply shrugs his broad shoulders and replies, “Either way, it seems like you like it.”

His words are like a punch to the gut, making you shoot your eyes straight at him as you clear your throat and lean forwards to act like you didn’t just hear him. “Excuse me?”

He starts, “You invited me over for food after pitying me. I’m done eating, I’ve been saying stuff that has clearly struck a nerve and yet you’re not telling me to get out.” His eyes scan the room for a moment before settling on you again. “Clearly something is keeping me here.”

Your glossy lips part and your eyes widen in disbelief, incoherent words and sentences bubbling up the back of your throat but never actually making it out of your mouth.

What the hell?

You clear your throat to speak again, “I’m just polite. And curious.”

“Curious?” he chuckles, “Don’t you know curiosity killed the cat?” The joke rolls off his tongue with another chuckle, making your stomach tingle with something you can’t put your finger on.

Curiosity killed the cat.

(Read: The cat being your pussy.)

His confidence, his look, his posture, everything is making him so much hotter than you’ve ever seen him before.

As if you needed it, your mind suddenly jumps to the vivid image of the golden XL letters on his box of condoms.

Maybe you should listen to Taehyung.

You ignore his smug remark as you eye his empty glass of water, nodding toward it before you ask, “Would you like something else?”

“Depends,” he says with an air of nonchalance, apparent by the smug shrug of his shoulders.

“On?”

“Whether you’re on that list.”

His flirtatious comment has your stomach doing backflips and a surge of heat shoots right down to your core. You hate how all he had to do was arrogantly imply he’d drink you up – no pun intended – and it’d have your panties sticking to your sex.

That’s it. You decide it’s time to bite back.

Just pretend it’s timid Seokjin from work, you think to yourself.

You get up from the couch and pour some more water into his glass. He reaches for the glass but you surprise him by wrapping your own hand around his glass before he can, bringing it up to your lips and taking a sip from his glass whilst keeping eye contact with him. After you’ve swallowed, you lower the glass back onto the table, leaving a stain of your lipstick on the rim.

He watches you with an arrogant raise to his brows and a faint smirk on those lips that you’d love to feel on your skin.

You plop back down onto the couch where you were previously seated before you say, “You’ve gone from bold asshole to bold flirt in the span of 2 minutes.” Your shoulders slouch and you hope you’re coming across as unbothered and casual.

“No harm in a bit of fun, right?” he jokes, a cocky tilt to his head as he continues to stare at you, reaching for the same glass and drinking from it.

“Sure, but where’s the fun in it if it’s all talk?” you quip.

Fuck. You can’t believe you just said that, your heart has shot up into your throat the moment the words left your mouth.

He simply smiles at your words before speaking up. “Do you actually believe that?” he says, his voice neutral and his expression almost mocking you.

You cross your arms and nonchalantly shrug, one of your hands coming up to allow your fingers to play with the earring in your earlobe before you part your lips to say, “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

He squints his eyes at you for a moment before he dryly chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at the glass in his hand absentmindedly.

After a few moments of silence, he places the glass back down with a thud. He looks back up at you through his brows, his hand coming up to his face in order to push some of his bangs out of the outer-corner of his eyes with his fingers.

“If you want me to come over there and fuck the shit out of you on that couch, you should just say that. Don’t beat around the bush.”

Fuck.

You force the yelp that’s threatening to erupt from your throat to go back down by forcefully swallowing it down, a knot forming in your stomach and a tingle in your panties. Fuck, you’re so happy you did all that scrubbing in the shower before you left for the restaurant.

“Aren’t you the one that’s beating around the bush?” you quip, watching as his eyebrows raise in surprise and you’re glad you’ve caught him off guard.

“Hm?” he hums in question.

“Really? ‘Depends whether you’re on that list’?” you repeat his words before continuing, “If you want to come over here and fuck me, you should just say that. Don’t beat around the bush.” You shoot right back at him, satisfaction swimming in your stomach at your quick comeback.

His nonchalant response is immediate. “I want to fuck you.”

Well.

Your mouth dries out like you just scooped a spoonful of cinnamon powder into your mouth in the middle of the scorching hot Sahara.

You clear your throat and gulp, gaze trailing to the wall on your side. You see him staring at you in your peripheral vision and you can just sense the smug smirk on his lips.

But you’re not going to let him win.

You finally decide to speak up. You say, “Well, what are you waiting for? Come over here, then.”

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, moving the wet muscle across his back teeth before rising to his feet.

Oh, fuck.

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[dirtykpopsnaps]

Here’s the request for NamJin!

[lbxbx]

Cockpit 3 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood,

Previous | Next

It’s the next morning when you wake up with an extreme hangover, you flip through your bed and your eyebrows scrunch when the sunlight hits your face.

Every time you get drunk you do absolutely stupid things that you decide to reflect on in the morning and scold yourself, as if the hangover headache is not enough.

You need to cure this hangover as soon as possible because you have a night shift tonight.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Seokjin says when you sit back next to him, you’re still in utter shock from what just happened.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks worriedly, “Did we cross the line.”

Words don’t even come out of your mouth, your hands are on your stomach and your brain suddenly stops functioning, What did Kim Namjoon do to you?

“Jungkook it’s all your fault.” Jimin scolds the youngest, Jungkook bites his lips in guilt.

“N-no.” You stutter. “I’m fine, really.”

“We should go home.” Hoseok offers and takes off his jacket. “You guys stay, I’ll call a cab.” He puts his jacket on your shoulder and grabs your purse, both of you get up and get into a taxi.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Hoseok asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You nod.

Despite all the dirty talk he gave you after that kiss, you have this weird stranger danger feeling towards him, and something tells you you’re not wrong. You’re always cautious around new people, but things went too fast him that you just need time to process it, and you need time to study him.

You roll your eyes at your thoughts. It’s just going to be a one time sex you don’t have to study no shit.

“Hobi?”

“Yeah?” He snaps his head towards you, ready to do anything you ask for.

“Before Namjoon and I kissed, I saw him by the bar.” You actually tell Hoseok about him.

Whenever you’re talking to him it’s like talking to a mirror, he gives the best advices and helps you no matter what, and most importantly he never makes you feel bad about yourself.

He doesn’t say anything in return, he just waits for you to finish your story.

“We exchanged phone numbers, is that okay?”

He tries to study your face, he tilts his head and asks. “Do you regret giving him your phone number?”

“Of course not, he’s just a stranger that’s all.” You shrug.

“So?” He laughs. “We were all strangers once, and now we’re best friends.”

You look at him, he smiles and puts his hand down on your knee. “Don’t over think it chief, if he ever makes you uncomfortable just block him.” He makes it look so easy. It probably is.

Oh yes, your phone.

You grab it and a sigh of relief leaves your mouth, thankfully he didn’t text or call. You’re not ready for that part yet, and you even wonder if you can just skip the talking phase and just have sex.

Jeez, it’s still morning.

You get up and take a hot shower, you wash your face, brush your teeth, then rush to make breakfast.

On the other side though, Namjoon is in his car, Ilsan was about 4 hours away from Seoul, he usually drives while listening to a podcast or an audio book, but this time his car is completely quiet, but his head storming with thoughts.

His sunglasses on and his fingers tapping the steering wheel, he’s supposed to appreciate the last few hours of quietness before he picks up Jay, but his full head isn’t letting him, and it’s far away from quite in fact.

He is genuinely glad he took your phone number to begin with, but when he thought about it again when he’s sober, he felt a huge load on his shoulder, why?

Because he’s married and that’s literally cheating, or at least in some way it is. He tried convincing himself that him and his so called wife are separated already and there’s no need to worry about that, but then the second thought comes chasing too.

He can’t call you nor text you, what if you thought he was a creep? Or someone who’s all over you? Or what if he scared you away? He feels nothing towards you but pure attraction, nothing more. He’s not that desperate for sex, or maybe he is, but he needs to be smart and reasonable and think straight.

With that subject off the table for him, he proceeds with recapping last night, he was monitoring you, watching your body language, he’s not a creep, but out of desire that’s all. He was petrified when your friends looked back at him. His first instinct is to run even if he did nothing wrong.

He thought you told them that he was hitting on you near the bar and that they’re going to whip his ass and beat him up, his body bathed in cold sweat when he saw one of the men walk closer to him, and the man was big and could easily knock Namjoon out.

“Good evening gentlemen.” The guy smiles and looks at Namjoon, he even thinks that he’s going to be exposed in front of his co workers.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” He said, and Namjoon nods before getting up.

He feels immediate relief when he finally finds out that this was a dare, and that he wants him to kiss his friend.

Oh gladly. Namjoon thought in his head.

The kiss was something that woke every single cell in his body, even while driving he finds himself touching his lips and smiling like a stupid virgin teenager being kissed for the first time.

He finally feels like a real man again who finally gets to kiss a girl and use his dick, well not yet, but he’s going to any time soon, and he wants it to be with you.

He wishes he can text you but he can’t, and he just hopes he runs into you again, doesn’t matter if it’s in the club or even in front of a stupid food truck, he just wants to see you.

It’s almost 12 in the midnight, already in the emergency department, it’s unusually quiet today, not so many patients are showing up, and the ones that actually do are not that critical.

You’re hanging out with the nurses drinking some tea and having some pretzels and chit chatting, when the watch on your wrist buzzes a notification, it’s a message, and it’s from—

Namjoon.

You quite literally feel heat running from your shoulders down to your body, you straighten up and put your mug down. Is it pathetic if you purposefully answer late? You should leave him hung up for minutes.

Of course you’re not going to do that, that’s really pity. So you do open the message immediately.

“Hey beautiful”

A little cheap shot Namjoon, but okay.

“hey big man” You text him back and cringe at yourself, that’s really cheesy. The read receipts immediately turn blue, meaning he already saw your message.

 “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night”

“I think I was being too honest.”

Your fingers hover over the screen, you don’t really know what to answer. He was being too honest, but you kind of liked it, you’re not even sure how to reply to this appropriately, because maybe it is meant to be inappropriate.

“you were all over me kim namjoon admit it.” Wow you’re really doing this.

It takes him a few minutes to reply.

“true.”

Fuck you’re at work, the heat you feel in your body is increasing, your hand makes its way to your lips, and the entire tape from last night goes through your head again, your brain even making it spicier. You start shifting in your seat, the heat in between your legs is the problem.

“Fuck I wish you were with me tonight.”

He even sends you a picture, he’s in what seems to be his house with the lights dimmed, his coffee table has a half empty glass of wine, and next to it is his pack of cigarettes. The vibe in his house is tempting for you, you wish you were with him too.

“are you busy?”

You took too long to answer but you eventually do.

“I’m on call tonight :(”

How the read receipts are turning blue immediately, you’re impressed.

You scoff a little when you actually know it’s just the beginnings, when men are being nice to you just to get into your pants, Namjoon must be one of those guys too. You huff. Men.

“oh no I’m sorry.”

“I’ll text you later take care.”

You don’t bother typing anything, you just send him a thumbs up emoticon and put your phone down.

Time passes very slow on your shift, you find it slow when there are barely any patients, it’s almost 4 in the morning, the ward has already dimmed the lights and you’re trying to catch some sleep on the chair when your phone buzzes a message.

It’s Namjoon, and why is he awake.

“awake?”

You don’t like leaving people’s text unanswered, or is that an excuse to answer very fast even when it’s 4 in the morning and you’re at work, Hmm.

“yup.”

He instantly reads your message, and you see bubbles popping up, he’s typing and deleting constantly, and it takes him 4 minutes to try and form a sentence but he ends up being offline which confuses you for a second.

Confusion quickly turns to mere shock when he calls you, the confidence on this man.

You excuse yourself out of the emergency room and go take a seat on a bench outside the hospital, you’re rushing as if you’re worried he’d hang up, a big part of you wants to enjoy the call.

“Kim Namjoon you’re drooling.” You answer, you’re more than glad to torture him.

He laughs and it takes him a few seconds to pick up the courage and speak. “I guess I am.” In his deep voice, you could easily imagine him in front of you if you close your eyes, the aura around this man is something else.

“It’s four in the morning and you’re calling?” You really want to know the reason behind his call.

“I was just thinking about you.” He breathes, which you could swear you can feel in your ear, you shiver and close your eyes, you cross your legs and answer him the first thing that comes off the top of your head.

“And did you make yourself cum?” You mirror what he said in the club last night, a hint of challenge in your voice.

“Fuck..” He grunts, he is being tortured by you. Your stomach is twisting and your panties are already sticking to you, you really want to touch yourself to his voice.

“Why make myself cum when you can make me cum.” He says, an audible smirk on his face.

“I can make you cum?” You’re intrigued.

“If you just let me fuck you.” He continues, “I’ll let you taste my cum.”

You’ve been with a fair share amount of men, but Kim Namjoon is out of this world, you’ve been with men who didn’t even make you cum while having sex. But he made you wet using his dirty mouth.

“Mmm..” That just slipped out of you, he releases a soft laugh and says. “I can make you cum too.”

Now he’s the one torturing you, you need to control yourself a little, this isn’t you.

“Prove it.” You look around hoping no one is around you. He lets out a shaky breath and you can hear him gulp, “Just say when.”

The whole idea is making your stomach clench and it even gives you nausea, not that it’s grossing you out or anything. You’re just nervous about the fact of sleeping with Kim Namjoon the captain you know nothing about except he’s insanely hot.

You get in the confidant and powerful fake persona you’re trying to claim with this man and speak. “In the mean time, enjoy making yourself cum Namjoon.”

You can hear him groan before letting out a laugh. “I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Go to sleep Namjoon.” You hang up and realize that you’re not breathing well, your hand reaches your face, you’re on fire. You throw your head back and take a long breath.

“Y/N.” Seokjin walks out of the main gate which startles you for a second, you forgot he was on call tonight too. He hands you a cup of coffee and studies your face for a couple of seconds.

“You don’t look okay.” He says, the back of his hand touching your face. You subtly push his hand away and shake your head in denial. “No, I am.”

“Did you see Yoongi’s message on the group chat?” He asked. “They’re playing poker next weekend at his place.”

You’re not really fond of playing cards, especially with your friends because it usually ends up in arguments and fighting, but you still enjoy their company that’s why you decide to go and participate.

-

Namjoon puts out his cigarette and blows out the last puff of smoke, he’s thinking about the only subject he has been trying to ignore. How is he going to tell you that he’s married? Or that he’s a father?

“Namjoon I have told you countless time do not fucking smoke inside this house.” His wife walks out of her bedroom, it’s already 7 in the morning and Namjoon isn’t able to catch any sleep.

He’s irritated for over thinking everything, and when his wife walks out of her bedroom, is when he absolutely loses his mind.

She’s the reason he’s in pure misery.

He shoots a glare at her, she doesn’t even flinch, she starts picking up Jay’s toys from the ground and keeps on babbling and scolding Namjoon.

“If you don’t like it just leave.” His glare doesn’t stop when he takes out another cigarette and lights it up just to piss her off.

“You know you’re a fucking terrible father for smoking when your own son is in the same house with you?” She shits out of her mouth, and that’s when he completely loses it, he hates being called a terrible father because he isn’t, he could die for his son.

“You’re just saying that out of spite.” He laughs. “Or probably because you’re a shitty mother and an awful house wife I guess.” This shit talk is happening earlier than usual.

“Oh fuck off Namjoon.” She turns and makes her way out of the living room.

He puts down the freshly lit cigarette and goes to his bedroom, closes the curtains and gets in bed. He sighs.

What did he do to deserve this?

A man just needs a smile and a kiss in the morning, his phone buzzes a text and he immediately checks it.

“wanna come over tonight? My place.”

It was you, you just got off of your shift and you’re driving back to your house, the entire shift was more than enough for you to think and just invite him over and get things over with.

Your text alone was more than enough to make his shitty morning turn better, he reads the message immediately and with a smile wider than ever on his face he replies.

“I’ll be there by 8.”

You reply with a thumbs up emoji and continue driving home, and Namjoon falls asleep.

-

You wake up around 4 in the evening with your headache finally gone, the headache started in the last hour of your shift due to lack of sleep, which you finally got rid of now.

You contemplated on taking a shower before you went to sleep, but you were too tired so you decide on showering right after you wake up.

The cold water hitting your body just turns off the fire lit inside you, you didn’t forget about your so called sex appointment that’s going to happen tonight, you use the body lotion you just purchased, you shave and fully keep yourself prepared.

It haunts you hours later when you’re standing in front of your closet that you just..

You just invited a stranger into your house? You gave him the location and all?

No matter how hard you try to brush it off, and no matter how insanely attractive Kim Namjoon is, he could drug you or even murder you and no one would know.

You haven’t been through a certain trauma in your life that require for you to be that careful when meeting new people or even inviting them over, but your friends scared you multiple times when mentioning stories of girls getting drugged or kidnapped around the town.

He can’t be that bad. You really need to stop over thinking.

You take out a black short dress that’s been hiding in the back of your closet, you don’t even remember wearing, and it proves you right when you check the dress and see the price tag still on. Why didn’t you wear this yet?

You shrug and rip the price tag off, you take off your tank top and put on the black dress, it’s really short, and really tight. You look in the mirror and scoff. This is exactly why you didn’t wear this dress yet. Your breasts look really good in this, it totally brings out your cleavage.

Something inside you tells you that this dress is too much to begin with, but you just keep it on, you’re totally not changing out of that.

You’re fully prepared, you even took out a bottle of wine and put it down on the kitchen counter with two glasses, you dim the lights and just wait.

It’s almost half past eight, and you almost think he ghosted you but your doorbell rings, your nausea is not getting any better and the tightness in your stomach is not comfortable, you regret you didn’t have a drink beforehand, it could relax you a bit.

You open the door and there he is in full glory.

Standing tall with his hands in his pocket, he’s dressed in a white polo t-shirt tugged in a pair of khaki jeans, the sleeves of his t-shirt tightly hugging his big bulging biceps, a thin silver necklace hugging his long neck, which you cannot wait to put your lips on, you look up at his dimple when he smiles and shows you his teeth. “Hey.”

“Hey, come on in.” You’re still standing behind the door, when he walks in and actually lays eyes on you, you can easily see where his eyes were pointing, and it’s all over your body before it lays on your breasts. Bingo.

“Look at you all dressed up.” He shamelessly eyes you from head to toe again.

“You too.” You close the door after him and stand against it with your hands behind your back. “How was your ride here?” You feel the need to make small talk.

“Maps drove me crazy.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay, have a seat.” You invite him in, you’re sweating and you’re pretty sure if you stood near him he’ll hear your pounding heart beat.

He walks in towards the living room and gets comfortable on the couch, leaning his back against the couch and man spreading his lovely thick thighs.

Oh yeah, you’re totally drooling.

“I like your place.” He looks around, hands running on his own legs.

“Thank you.” You follow his eye sight, you do take pride in your apartment. “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes please, thank you.” You admire his attitude, he’s completely respectful, although he is totally checking out your ass when you’re making your way to the kitchen, you take the bottle of wine and the glasses and make your way back to the living room to put them on the coffee table.

“Wine?” He smirks and leans his arm on the back of the couch.

“Oh, I can get you something else if you want to.” You turn to the mini fridge that you have in your living room, it was a gift from Taehyung. Namjoon immediately shakes his head and waves his hands. “No no. I’m fine with wine really.”

You lift up an eyebrow and pop out the cork before pouring wine in the glasses. “Is there a problem with the wine?”

“No it’s fine.” His eyes land on your boobs again when you lean down to grab his glass and give it to him. “Thanks.”

You take a seat on the same couch right next to him, with a respectful space kept between you.

“Were you working today?” You take a sip of your wine, you’re not really curious whether he worked or not, you’re just making small talk to study this man and his body language.

“Mm.” He shakes his head while swallowing a sip of wine. “But I still have some hours left to finish.”

“Hours?” You asked, now you’re intrigued to know more and you’re curious.

“Mhm.” He puts his glass down. “I have a logbook that I record my flying hours in, and when I’m done with a certain amount of hours, I can have my days off.”

He uses his hands a lot when he’s talking which you find cute, you nod and tilt your head. “Do you choose your working hours?”

“No, I usually get called the night before or something.” He shrugs. “I usually fly domestic so I don’t mind even if they called me on the same day.”

“That’s really cool.” You nod. “And do you like your job?”

He stays silent for a second before he laughs, he grabs his glass of wine and takes a sip.

“You don’t?” You gasp, “I find it really interesting, what you do.”

“No I like it.” He nods, “It’s just that it’s hard to make friends or even make plans with friends.” He leans his arm again on the back of the couch, the tip of his fingers twisting a strand from your hair, he’s flirting.

You quickly decide on flirting back, you run your fingers on his arm and form your lips into a soft pout. “Yeah, it must be hard.”

“Yeah, that’s why I make all my plans a day before.” He looks at your fingers and clears his throat, “Tell me about your job, do you like it?”

You nod and say. “Depends.” Which makes him laugh. “I rarely get days off, but at least I get paid for the shifts I work extra.”

“Do you always go on night shifts?” He asks sipping more of his wine, both of you are really blending into the conversation, he’s so easy to talk to which makes you comfortable, your nausea is long gone.

“Yeah, 4 or 5 times a month.” You nod. “But I don’t like night shifts, they drain me.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks. “You did seem excited last night when you told me to make myself cum.”

You almost choke on your own spit when he says that, you feel your face burning with heat, you should’ve known better before texting him that the other night. Fuck you’re embarrassed.

“O-oh..” You stutter, you clear your throat repeatedly, the nausea is totally making a comeback.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.” His smirk is still on his face, your eyes land on him for a couple of seconds before you playfully hit him on his hard big chest. “Idiot.”

He laughs and sips more wine. “So the worst thing about your job is the night shifts?”

“Yeah..” You inhale. “And idiots like you make it even worse.” You tease, he finally puts his glass down and inches closer to you, closing the empty space between you, he leans his elbows on his thighs and turns his head towards you. “Or I can make it better.”

You feel his thigh pressed against yours which feels like utter fire to you, your insides are clenching around nothing when you crave for his touch, you need to feel more of him, you have to.

“You probably can.” Your voice barely heard, his eyes land on your lips, his throat bulges when he swallows and licks his bottom lip, you know he’s ready to make a move so you decide on teasing him and lean forward, your nose brushes against his, you look into his eyes and grin. “You can go ahead and kiss me if you want to.” You shrug. “I won’t mind.”

“Come here.” He doesn’t even hesitate for a second, he leans forward and finally seals his lips with yours, this time the kiss feels different than the one before, this one more intense, his teeth biting onto your lips and his tongue already roaming the inside of your mouth, his hands down on your legs slowly making their way up but stopping right below the edge of your dress.

You kiss him and go with his pace, enjoying and savoring every second you get to taste his plump lips. Your body is slowly getting satiated with its needs, you can feel your panties getting wetter and your stomach twisting in pure pleasure just by kissing Namjoon.

You eventually run out of breath and stop kissing back, which doesn’t stop him and instead his lips make their way to your ear and suck on your earlobe before licking it, which you let out a shaky breath at, the sound of his tongue and wet kisses along with his breath against your ear is sending electricity through your spine.

“You like it don’t you?” He whispers, one of his hands finally making its way back to your ass and he wholeheartedly squeezes it which makes you hold on to his chest. His lips move further back to your neck and he licks a long trail from your collarbone to your ear, you’re melting from his touch.

He grabs your cheeks in one hand again and pulls you in for another steamy kiss, you kiss back as if it’s a natural reflex and your hands move to his t-shirt to unbutton the first few buttons, you tug on it softly which he takes it as a sign to slide it off and he instantly does.

Satan sculpted this man and he did a great fucking job.

He leans back on the couch and grabs you by your hands to pull you and sit on his lap, your foot knocks down your glass of wine and it falls down on the floor and splatters on his khaki pants, you gasp and cover your mouth. “Shit, sorry, your pants I—“

“Fuck the pants.” His palms land on your ass and he squeezes again while devouring your lips, you can feel his covered hard cock under you and you position yourself right onto it which makes him groan in the kiss, you think it’s too much but he totally disagrees and grabs you by the ass to grind against him.

“Fuck-“ You speak against his lips and lean your forehead against his, a string of saliva still hanging between your mouths, he smirks and looks at you in the face before clearing his throat. “Show me your bed Y/N.” The way he said your name in a needy tone makes you melt in his hands, you get up and pull him by his arm to your bedroom.

The second you walk inside he hugs you from behind, his covered boner pressed against your covered ass, he turns you to face him and pushes you back on the bed, your chest is already heaving out of breath, moving up and down dramatically, you lean on your elbows and watch him hover on top of you, printing a few soft pecks on your lips while his hands play with the hem on your panties. “Can I take them off?”

You know it’s the bare minimum that he asked you but you totally admire him for that.

The duality on this man frights you especially when he just innocently asked you if he could take your panties off, but the second he throws them across the other side of the room and looks down at your cunt makes you stare at him with your jaw down.

The way he’s admiring your throbbing wet pussy, he looks like he just won the lottery. He’s been hungry for years and you’re here to feed him.

He looks at you almost in disbelief, asking himself on the inside Is this real?

You feel his hot breath against your pulsating clit, he licks once, twice, then uses his fingers to spread open your pussy and reveal more, his tongue tickles your entrance and goes up to your clit to print a soft wet kiss on it, he puts your clit into his mouth and sucks the soul out of you, you immediately react and close your legs but he uses all his force to push your knees closer to your torso, he wants to have it all.

He pulls back and spits onto your pussy, a string of saliva hanging from his lips before he devours it like it’s his last meal.

You gasp and hold onto your breath when he sucks your clit again, this time using his fingers to rub your entrance, his ego already boosting up when he sees you all vulnerable. “Breath.” He orders and you obey immediately, your hands making their way to your hair, it feels insanely erotic that you start pulling your own hair. “I’m gonna fucking cum.” You announce, and as if he needed encouragement to go faster, he does.

His two fingers curling against your spot and his head moving left and right to add more friction, your back arches and your eyes completely close shut when the knot inside your stomach finally bursts and you cum, feeling it in your entire body. He doesn’t stop and fucks you with his fingers through it, his tongue now near your entrance waiting for taste your cum.

“Holy shit.” You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and your chest starts rising up and down trying to catch a breath, you throw your head back and clear your throat, you can feel the mattress moving and Namjoon is already over you, he leans his forehead against yours and catches your lips into a kiss, your cum sits down on your tongue, he pulls back and you can feel his breath against your lips. “Swallow.”

And you obey again, feeling the taste of your cum on your tongue, he smirks and says. “You taste heavenly.” He moves down to your ear and whispers. “I told you I can make you cum.”

You hit him on the chest and hold his head into your hands and kiss him again. “Fuck me Namjoon.”

Your words take a huge toll on Namjoon as he clenches his jaw and looks at you all over your face, he wants to pound you so hard but he’s not sure you can take it.

“Take off your dress.” He eyes your chest and starts unbuckling his jeans, you unzip the dress from the side and slide it off of your shoulders and down your body to get rid of it, he looks down at your breasts one last time before he prints a trail of kisses between them, caressing one into his palm and squeezing it. His mouth moves to your perked up nipple and he circles it with his tongue, his eyes on your face as you’re biting your lip and running your fingers through his damp sweaty hair.

He takes your nipple between his teeth and sucks on it like his life depended on it. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Shit.” You throw your head back and lift your knee up to rub his clothed cock, you need to feel him inside you, and the idea of that about to happen makes you even more impatient.

He moves up to your chest and prints a few wet kisses, you shake your head and pull him from his dangling necklace. “Namjoon, fuck me now.”

He sits up on his knees and pulls down the zipper, he pulls down his pants and boxers to reveal what he’s been hiding from you the entire night.

Your jaw drops at the monstrous size, Kim Namjoon is a fucking real man with an enormous cock.

“Fuck, wait a second.” He gets up and leaves the bedroom for a second before walking back with a condom on his hand, he tries ripping it with his hand but his palms were too sweaty to manage, you reach your hand out to him and he looks at you for seconds, “Give it to me.”

He hands you the condom with a look of a lost puppy on his face, he’s clearly confused, you get up and push him down on the bed and he lies down, you rip the foil package with your teeth which he finds his cock pulsating to the sight of you doing that, you sit on the bed on your knees and put your legs on each side of his waist, you grab his cock which your fingers hardly wrap around, the thickness on this man is inhumane.

You grab the condom and position it on the tip of his dick and roll it down slowly, “Is it good?”

“Yeah.” He reaches his hands down to tug and twist and make it more comfortable for him, “Give me your hands.” He offers you his, you hesitate for a second before grabbing them, he positions you right on top of him and grabs his dick, rubs your pussy with it before teasing your entrance. “Tell me when to stop.”

You nod and look down waiting for the tip to penetrate you, your temperature increasing when the tip is pointed towards your wet vagina, you tense for a second before you ever so slowly get down on the tip of his dick, a soft whimper coming out of your mouth before you instantly lift yourself up again.

“It’s okay, take your time.” He’s out of breath, his hands sit on your hips, his eyes scanning your entire body, the sweat on your chest and neck is doing wonders to Namjoon, your perked up nipples bounce with you when you retrieve from his big dick, he looks down at your wet pussy and loses his mind when his tip disappears inside you and he grunts. “Fuck.” And drops his jaw.

Your tight walls give Namjoon a hard time when he’s trying to push more of his cock inside you, your walls keep clenching repeatedly which drives him fucking insane. “Relax for me.” He grabs his dick and pushes his torso further up to push more inside you.

What drives him more insane is the view of you spitting on your fingers and stroking his cock to make it wet before pushing it back inside you, now being able to sit a little lower than before on his dick. You wet your fingers with your spit again and rub your clit and try to relax your insides. “That’s it, good fucking girl.” He bites his own teeth which you can see his jaw clench.

You feel the tip of his cock brush against a spot inside you which makes you gasp and lean your palms on his lower stomach and pause for a second. “Fuck…” You laugh out of breath and look up at him, he mirrors your laugh and grabs your hips tighter. “Does it feel good?”

“I need a second.” You’re really out of breath, the spot he just hit with his dick is the spot that will make you cum so hard in seconds if you don’t stop.

“Come here.” He grabs your hands and pulls you in for a wet kiss which you kiss back and cup his cheeks, his hands move down to your ass cheeks and he squeezes on them, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks in between the kisses, you lean your forehead against his before shaking your head, landing slowly on his sensitive cock, both of you grunting at the same time, he’s brushing against that spot again which makes your stomach tighten and your back arch. You’re still clenching repeatedly around his dick. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He says in the most sexiest deep manly voice ever.

He’s driving you crazy too but you’re not going to give him that right away.

You shift in your seat and start pulling back from his dick slowly before landing again, you lean back and put your palms on his spread away knees for support, then pull back again and land back down, your throbbing pussy is already leaking from the utter pleasure that’s going through your whole system.

You start riding him in a faster speed, he impatiently moves his hips up to meet yours which makes sinful noises around your room, your damp skin meeting his. His eyes are locked with your body, your long neck when you throw your head back and your bouncing tits with each thrust, he could swear he can see his dick bulging out of your stomach.

You look down at him and you see his stomach tightening, he’s even holding his breath with his lip in between his teeth. “Shit.” He grabs your hips with his big hands and stops you, sitting up to kiss you on the lips, his arms wrap around your waist and he flips you over, his cock still remaining inside you.

Your back lands on the mattress and he sits down between your legs, he moves one of your legs to meet the other one, and he hugs them closer to his chest before pounding hard inside you, the angle and position change now feels even tighter on both of you, your vision is getting blurry with all the tears in your eyes. “Please don’t stop.” You beg, the sharp tone you’re using drives him mad, he moves inhumanely faster and your tits bounce even harder on your chest, he wholeheartedly grabs one of them in your hand and squeezes on it, and with that your knot finally snaps and you start clenching harder around his dick, you throw your head back and stop breathing while you’re cumming, Namjoon sees your cum on his dick and feels the constant clenching when he knows you’re cumming, and he fucks you through it while grunting. “Fuuuck.”

You finally manage to breathe again and your chest heaves, tears already fell down on your cheeks, you feel like you’re going to pass out. Namjoon keeps fucking you even when you’re over stimulated, his breaths get louder and he finally throws his head back too and shoots his load inside his condom. “Ah..” His thrusts finally halts and he lets go of your legs, you wrap them around him and pull him closer, he leans his forehead against yours still out of breath, you kiss the corner of his lips and his jaw and neck, giving him soft bites and licks here and there.

You print a kiss on his ear and whisper. “I made you cum.”

He looks at you and manages to give you a lazy smile before falling completely on you, you run your finger nails down his back and kiss the top of his head.

Kim Namjoon was totally worth the risk.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "... the whispers..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game. This confrontation is long overdue and is either going to end in handcuffs or tangled limbs.

part i | this is part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alcohol consumption; things are thrown during a public altercation; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; Jungkook's POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; a few cameos you can speculate on and one named cameo hehe; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

whether I'm gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back – imgonnagetyouback by taylor swift

It was a night just like any other night, which meant Jeon Jungkook was somewhere doing something because he was someone. On this night he was visiting a new upscale nightclub owned by one of his close friends, which was why he was at a table surrounded by his bros, expensive bottles of alcohol, and beautiful women. Not his scene, really. He was an introvert at heart. Despite that, he had obligations to be here. Obligations to laugh, to jest, to be merry, to be somebody.

But he knew he was just a somebody surrounded by much better bodies.

So, really, he was only a ghost.

“Hey, isn’t that…?”

It was luck and good friends that got him in the position he was in now. Jungkook knew that. He couldn’t complain too much when they invited him out. After all, they were only doing it because they cared about him. Yeah.

“She's really staring at you, man.”

Someone nudged his arm. For a moment, he didn’t comprehend that it was him that was being spoken to. Maybe it was the heavy black leather jacket. Underneath, he wore a tight white tank, and completed his outfit with studded charcoal-wash jeans and black leather boots. Nice, sure, but there were other men that much more sharply dressed with bigger designer labels. Of course, he cleaned up well with his slicked-back black hair and clean-shaven jawline. So did any other male model out there. He was not so egotistical to think he was the most interesting man there.

“Hmph, who?” he snickered, swinging around in his chair with the ice in his glass clinking. He would figure out who everyone was talking about from the reactions of the public. He snapped his head around, stray tendrils of black falling free onto his forehead, obscuring his vision for a split second, and then he faced the crowd beneath the VIP tables.

Time slowed.

The club was loud. Very loud, due to the deafening combination of music, chatter and laughter. It was lit with the imperfect balance of light and dark, oscillating spotlights exposing corners and weaving through moving bodies clad in fitted dresses, high heels, tailored blazers, suit pants. The alcohol was high-grade. The crowd was cherry-picked and pre-screened at the door. It was what it was. Individuals who had money blowing money, ignoring the sins around them to commit their own. It was hard to pick out someone.

But Jungkook saw her right away.

The club became quiet from his point of view. Sound became a mishmash of muffled, incoherent noises fading to the background as the faces blurred. The music dulled. All lights dimmed except in one area. Everything was still moving, still thriving, still breathing yet he was only aware of one single person.

His ex-girlfriend stared right at him from below.

Even from this distance he could feel the blades in her gaze.

Black patent leather jacket. Very short, cut just under the breasts. Black lace corset, see-through except for the cups. Skintight lilac miniskirt. Legs for days. Pointed-toe black pumps with a thin ankle strap, the kind he had trouble with due to the small delicate buckle.

He tried to breathe but the air was like concrete in his lungs.

She tilted her head, narrowing her smoked-out eyes. Her lips were glossy crimson, cool-toned to match the palette of her outfit. Her hair had been pinned up, exposing her graceful neck and glimmering collarbones.

She began to walk through the crowd.

Jungkook spun around and suddenly all the sound roared back, intense and thunderingly hostile. He winced, clutching his drink and holding the side of his head, trying to make sense of it all.

“Tch, why is she here?”

“Right? She doesn’t belong here.”

“She can be wherever she wants to be,” replied a calm, deep voice.

He could hear voices around him talking but it wasn’t making any sense. How? Why? Was he seeing things? And why did it matter? It didn’t. It didn’t. He took another sip of his glass and found it bitter and tasteless. Maybe that was in his head too. It didn’t matter if she was here. Someone was tugging on his arm. He pulled himself free, snapping his hand down onto the table.

The world crashed back into place as his drink sloshed and spat out from his force.

A startled feminine gasp.

The calm, deep voice returned. “You okay, man?”

Jungkook jerked his head up and saw Kim Taehyung carefully surveying him. He was a man with strong, masculine features and a comforting baritone voice that reminded one of cozy winters and romantic nights. Out of all his friends, they were the closest in age. However, Taehyung was more than a year older and a much more seasoned veteran of the modeling industry. He had been scouted at a very young age, quickly learning the ins-and-outs without losing who he was. He was grounded, easygoing, and never had a crack in his composure. At least, that was how Jungkook thought of him.

Taehyung raised a dark eyebrow, repeating his question without saying a word.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook scowled, then controlled his face a bit better. “What?”

Those dark, moody eyes served him a dose of silent judgement as one of the girls at the table spoke up again.

“Oooh, she’s sitting down at a table.”

He told himself not to look. It didn’t matter if she was here. And yet his head moved on its own, pivoting to the left so fast he almost had whiplash. At high-end clubs like this, there were tables available depending on to how much a patron spent. The larger tables had to be paid for in advance to be secured a space. Such reservations were violently expensive, signaling VIP status. A lot of the smaller tables on the lower level were occupied. The more exclusive tables were higher up, needing stairs to access the higher tiers. A waiter was holding her hand, carefully guiding his ex-girlfriend up the stairs to an empty round table that typically seated ten.

There was no one else at the table.

She sat down at the seat closest to overlooking the club.

“She can afford that?”

A crackling laugh. “Doubt it.”

“Who are you to say what she can’t afford?” Taehyung cut in sharply in a disapproving tone.

“O-Oh, well… It’s just not that common, you know.”

The chittering was from the women they had invited to the table earlier. Shit, their presence seemed so frivolous and annoying now. Jungkook had half a mind to turn around and glare at them. Instead, he was transfixed by the woman in patent leather and tight lilac. She crossed her legs, smoothed her skirt, and leaned back in her chair, scanning the crowd. A waiter came back and brought a bucket of ice with a champagne bottle and accompanying flutes. A waitress came by with another bottle. Porcelain, with painted flue floral design, and placed two crystal glasses onto the table. His former lover smiled at them, nodding. They bowed and took their leave after serving her.

Instead of touching the drinks, the woman turned her body and locked her icy stare right on him.

Jungkook stiffened and turned away quickly, feeling his body running hot. The table was still talking, but it was behind hands and feigned disinterest. Taehyung sighed, shaking his head. Of course, there had been other friends at the table too. Only now did Jungkook notice that they were missing. Must have wandered off. At the very least, their host Kim Seokjin would definitely be gone for a while. He was an affluent actor, model, and owner of several establishments, including this luxury nightclub. Eventually the tall, broad-shouldered man would return to see them off, but there was no telling when.

“Did you know she was gonna be here?” Jungkook hissed through gritted teeth, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the women. They still lingered for the free drinks which Taehyung kept supplied. No sense in wasting Seokjin’s endless tab after all.

Taehyung frowned. “I don’t police people’s actions. Does it matter what she does?”

Jungkook scoffed. “Oh, so this wasn’t your idea?”

Those normally warm brown eyes turned cold. “It wasn’t. Besides, she’s no longer your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely not.”

A growl collected in Jungkook’s throat and he was about to let it loose. He swiveled his head again only for the sound to die before it began. A man was standing by her table. He was sharply dressed in a suit and tie, with tied-back bleached-blond hair that laid over his shoulders. He had a pleasant decorum and a smile like a predatory feline. She gestured him to sit down and poured him a drink as invitation. He watched in horror as his ex-girlfriend chatted up a beautiful stranger.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or run over there to flip the table.

A low voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wasn’t the breakup amicable?”

He froze.

Slowly, Jungkook faced Taehyung, his long-time friend. He never really could bring himself to fully lie to those piercing dark orbs, now reflecting the same reserved gaze that Taehyung had given him when Jungkook provided the same flimsy excuse he was once again repeating.

“I… It wasn’t meant to be,” Jungkook mumbled once more. “The traveling… it was too much for us.”

The older male was too good at reading between the lines, especially when it came to romance, his forte. “Hm.” He knew when he wasn’t getting the full story. “It’s probably too late to ask now, but was it what you wanted?”

Jungkook couldn’t help it.

“It was…”

He looked over his shoulder again.

“… What I deserved.”

She was thanking the blond-haired man. He bowed ninety degrees and leaned in, whispering something in her ear before leaving the table. His glass was empty. Someone else was approaching the table. A pretty woman with long black hair in a white minidress and short, pearl-white nails sat down, bowing lightly and introducing herself. His ex-girlfriend offered between the two drinks and the pretty woman chose the champagne. A waiter came over to uncork it for them, pouring a healthy amount into the two flutes.

They two chatted, immediately absorbed with each other.

“For a guy naturally talented at a lot of things, you’re such a stupid idiot.”

He was.

Wait.

Jungkook scowled, turning back to a disapproving Taehyung cradling a small ceramic cup. It was hand-painted with the smallest of brushstrokes, depicting a flock of black birds disappearing into the white sky. He took a sip with a gruff sigh, making a tense face. He was a wine guy, but he couldn’t turn down traditional Korean alcohol. That would be uncouth.

“How long are you going to continue moping?” Taehyung scoffed.

“I’m not moping,” Jungkook countered, hunched over the table and gripping his whiskey glass a little too hard.

“You are convincing no one. Least of all me.”

His eyes flickered upward, glaring. Taehyung remained refined, unperturbed, nearly prince-like in his half-open floral-and-forest-green silk shirt and ruffled hair. A black-brown curl perfectly grazed one of his eyebrows, accenting his condescending look with a dash of softness.

“Did you ever realize how much she did for you?”

Jungkook pushed away his glass. He couldn’t reply. He stuck his tongue in his cheek, trying not to feel. It was only then that he noticed that the table was strangely silent despite the fervor of the environment – the women had made themselves scarce, understanding that this conversation was much too serious for their girlypop night.

Finally, he forced himself to speak. “For me? I take care of myself.”

Taehyung winced. Hard. “You cannot be serious right now.”

Another peek behind him. A different man at her table now. Silvery-blonde hair, tan skin, muscular like a godly titan. She caught him looking and stared directly back. Jungkook cursed under his breath. “What did she do then? Hm? Enlighten me.” His voice was becoming rougher, slipping out of his practiced Seoul dialect and into his Busan dialect. The broad-shouldered man at the table had no suit jacket. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up. He must have noticed her lack of attention, because he began to turn around as well.

Jungkook jerked away before they could lock eyes too.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Taehyung exhaled, not quite annoyed but getting there. “But I know you were the one that was wrong.”

Yeah, right.

“Never once did she complain about you. Never once did she butt into your business and cause you trouble when she could have. Never once did she talk behind your back when we both know damn well that you’re no saint, Jeon Jungkook.”

His tattooed hand against the table balled up into a fist, the familiar ache in his chest splitting, threatening.

Unintimidated, Taehyung continued. “The travelling was rough? Of course, it is. And there are probably a thousand ways to make it up to someone you love, but instead now I’m looking at you sitting here and her sitting there, pretending to be strangers. Tells me a whole lot about how that worked out.” His natural Daegu satoori was becoming more evident during his tirade. Taehyung wasn’t trying to be polite, though.

“You don’t know anything,” Jungkook retorted.

“I don’t.” Those dark brown eyes burned hot, scrutinizing him and tearing him apart. “And I don’t need to. Your hostility is telling me everything.”

“It was you,” Jungkook snapped, slamming his fist onto the table. “You invited her here.”

Taehyung’s low voice became lower, more accusatory. “Go ahead. Keep deflecting. Run back home and hide. That’s what you want to do, right?” His gaze narrowed and Taehyung’s normally friendly warmth morphed into scalding heat. “You heard what they said. She doesn’t belong here. And yet, here she is. They all talked and gossiped and badmouthed her, right to your face even, and yet you said nothing. You still don’t have the fucking balls, man. You didn’t respect her for all she was. In spite of that, she stood beside you, head held high, until you tossed her away. You brought her into this world, you ripped her out of it, and guess what? She is here. She holds her own. You deluded yourself into thinking she needed you. But she doesn’t, and it’s the other way around.”

Jungkook shot up out of his seat, nearly knocking the chair over. He was breathing hard, his furious anger so violent that it clawed at his insides, and Taehyung tilted his head, mirroring the expression of an adult tiger observing a foolish cub.

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook gritted out between clenched teeth. “You’re fucking wrong.”

He… No. She did this. This was her fault. She was the one that always pushed him to go for what he wanted. She was the one who always helped him make it work. Last minute changes happened often early in his career and she always smiled at him and told him to go, to run, to chase those adventures. And she always waited for him to come home.

“I wasn’t like that.”

In the middle of dinners for two. In vacations cut short. In forgotten special dates. Go. She always waited for him to come home. He couldn’t be blamed for that. Those were all her own decisions. He just had to do what he had to do, didn’t he? He couldn’t be blamed for doing what he thought was best. He couldn’t be blamed for trying his best. This dull ache created from a thousand cuts was not made from his own hand.

Right?

“You’re hopeless.” Taehyung slumped back in his chair and sighed. “Do as you wish.”

He wasn’t the person Taehyung was saying he was.

If he was, then…

No.

Jungkook whipped around and locked his eyes to the table, walking determinedly up to it.

There was a different man sitting there now. A very tall one with very short hair, violate energy, and a striking profile, deeply engaged in conversation with his ex-girlfriend. Currently laughing bashfully at something she must have said. The stranger was wearing a crisp black dress shirt with the first few buttons undone and well-tailored black slacks. Jungkook wanted to punch him in his very handsome face. He didn’t care that the man’s shoulders and arms were so built that they were nearly bursting the seams of his dress shirt, nor did he care that starting a fight right now would do absolutely nothing except get him thrown out in handcuffs.

Jungkook wanted to kill him.

Her eyes took a moment to shift from the very handsome stranger to him.

It hurt.

It really fucking hurt.

He glared back. Her gaze was not as heated, nor did it hold the same ice she had during their last conversation way back then. There was a completely different mix of emotions conveyed now. Almost disconnected, lonely, and loathing all at once, the last not directed at him but at herself.

As if she didn’t want to care but did and hated herself for it.

It wasn’t who she was at all, and Jungkook hated himself for doing this to her.

“Dude, I’m going to need you to get lost.���

Startled, the seated man turned his head to see Jungkook giving him a death stare. He hated seeing the puppy-like expression on such a masculine-looking man, not because he looked down on that but because it was a genuine, adorable reaction that couldn’t be faked.

She probably liked that.

She probably deserved that.

Jungkook was determined to ruin this too. Why the fuck not?

The man looked confused, and then irritated. “Uh… Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I don’t think you belong here.” He had a commanding, stern tone. He shifted in his seat, halfway to rising. “This conversation doesn’t include you.”

“No, this conversation doesn’t include you,” Jungkook snapped, glancing at her. His ex-girlfriend did nothing but raise an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed under her breasts. “Fuck off.”

The man in the black dress shirt began to stand, brows furrowing. “Hey, I’m going to have to ask you to leave–”

“Excuse me.”

She stood up.

From this distance, Jungkook could fully take in how the smoke-grey eyeshadow accentuated the shape of her eyes, making them more prominent and intense. The lights caught the glow of her skin and the vividness of the scarlet of her lips, giving her an ethereal, untouchable demeanor. Loose layers of her hair framed her face despite the majority of it being pinned up, casting cold, dark shadows around the hot radiance of her gaze.

“I’m sorry to cut our conversation short, but I think it’s best if you give us a moment,” she said politely to the tall stranger while bowing. “I was enchanted to meet you tonight, Kim Mingyu.”

A pink flush dusted over the man’s cheeks. This motherfucker had the audacity to be flustered. Jungkook still wanted to punch him in the face. Maybe more now than before.

“O… Oh… Um. Alright.” He glanced between Jungkook and her. “Will you be okay?”

She smiled, maintaining confident eye contact with the stranger. “Let’s not assume the worst of people. And… Your words have given me courage. I thank you.”

It took everything in Jungkook not to trip the guy on his very expensive designer shoes as he hastily bowed and took his leave, offering an awkward half-wave before backing away. She raised a hand back, not looking away even when he turned around.

And then.

Quiet.

At least as quiet as a loud nightclub could be. But it all became background noise in the face of loaded silence. The safety off now. The bass faded into heartbeats as she raised her eyes and, once again, they faced each other across the table. Jungkook stood with his hands balled up into fists in the pockets of his leather jacket. His former lover stood with her hands in front of her. She was still the most beautiful, graceful, and collected woman that he had ever had the pleasure to know.

“I’m…”

And he missed her so, so much.

“I’m sorry.”

So fucking much.

Her eyes flickered down in a pause, and then back up. “It really doesn’t matter anymore. The past is in the past.”

Her name on his lips felt foreign and familiar all at once. She didn’t react. It was as if he had said nothing at all. He said it again, almost with an edge of panic, and she closed her eyes, breathing in slowly. He wanted to run to the other side. He wanted to climb on top of the table and grab her hands and tell her it was going to be okay, that he was going to be better, that she was the love of his life and that he could be hers too, please, if only he had a chance. Instead, he stayed where he was, frozen in place, trying not to do the wrong thing even though everything about this scene and script was all wrong.

Her eyes opened in a resigned, resolute flutter.

“Do you think saying sorry takes back everything you’ve done?” she asked in a measured tone.

He pulled his hands out of his jacket, shaking his head. “No. No, of course not. I… You didn’t give me a chance to apologize, and I–”

“Apologize for what?” she coldly interrupted.

“W-Well… For… everything, really.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know.”

Jungkook blinked hard, trying to banish his tears. “Know?” he echoed.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” Her words were sharpened steel, cutting right through him.

“I do,” he insisted. “For all the times I left during dinner, for all the times I’ve left during our scheduled time together, for forgetting your birthday, anniversary–”

“For the blatant disrespect,” she interrupted, her hands separating, those intense eyes narrowing. “For always believing I could fend for myself when you got swept up during work events. For contacting me not to talk about my day, but to interrogate me on what I was doing. For not believing me and asking me to send photos every time I was out somewhere.”

He sputtered, taken aback. “That wasn’t… Those things–”

“For always knowing I understood your position and taking it for granted.” Her glare was like daggers, cutting through all the lies he told himself. “And yet never understanding mine. Never believing in the love I had for you.”

“I did believe!”

“And so you accused me of lying?” she shot back, scathing him. “I have never done anything to make you believe I was disloyal to you, but I was five minutes late to a date and suddenly I need to be lying? Suddenly that was a sign of my nefarious plans? Suddenly I’m the bad guy that needs to be backed into a corner? Suddenly I must beg on my knees to soothe your feelings?”

“I didn’t ask for that,” he retorted. “I just asked why you didn’t text that you were late.”

“I don’t need to repeat what I said then,” she growled, bristling. She had been five minutes late because of an elderly taxi driver taking his time. “Because it didn’t matter what the reason was for you. I know that now. You were scared. You were insecure. You were nervous that I was beginning to fall out of love with you. You latched onto the first thing I did wrong and blew it out of proportion to force me to grovel to you. You could have asked me directly how I felt. Instead, you decided to play fucking games.”

Jungkook couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

Her hands balled up into fists by her sides. “I was patient. I was understanding. I loved you.” She dug her nails into her palms, clenching her jaw. “But I was not going to let myself be manipulated by your insecurities. I was not about to lose myself to become an extension of you, Jeon Jungkook.”

Past tense.

“You… loved me?”

She might as well have stabbed him right through the heart.

A thundering pause.

Finally, she sighed. Her hands relaxed.

“When I came in here, I didn’t know if I wanted to run to you or slap you.”

She looked around, down at the crowd, up to the lights, to the bar, the tables, the people.

“Before you, all I had was a decent job. Not exciting, but good enough to enjoy the life I wanted. I had loose acquaintances and once-in-a-blue-moon friends. I had mediocre hobbies that I was okay at. Before you, that had been enough. This,” she breathed, indicating the people and the money being flaunted around like water during a rainstorm. “I didn’t know this. I didn’t know how lonely it was to be standing this high. I didn’t know… My acquaintances and few friends saw the life you gave me and faded away, no longer relating to the extravagance I was exposed to. My job became a forbidden topic for the mere crime that it was boring. My hobbies became childish to these refined eyes. Yet… I could live with all that. The life I wanted was the one I had with you. And… it turned out to be miserable.”

For the first time, Jungkook realized how much she lost loving him.

“I was miserable.”

She half-laughed, empty.

“But I loved you.”

Lowered her head.

“And I was so, so damn angry with you.”

She smacked the table with her palm, hard enough to make the people around them flash them a startled look. Her fingers tensed, cherry-red manicure flaring over the wood.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” This was the part Jungkook didn’t understand. His voice rose in both frustration and desperation. “Why didn’t you just blow up on me? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Say what?” she snarled, snapping her head up, each word a bullet tearing through him. “Huh? No, don’t go? How dare you leave me, again? Create the war wounds right before we part? What good does all that do? Make us both upset right before you run off? Because you would anyway. You know you would, because you are stubborn and selfish and always doing what you need to do, putting me at the bottom of the list since I am capable… right? I can handle myself, right?”

He was rounding the table, knocking chairs aside. “You could have been angry at me. You just didn’t want to be!”

“Who wants to be angry? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“What, you were worried that you would no longer be the perfect girlfriend if you weren’t understanding?” he accused.

She looked livid. “Don’t you dare flip my consideration onto me.”

He stopped right in front of her, tension all over his neck and jaw. “It’s your fault too. I can’t change if you act like everything is fine!”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? I have to be the one to teach you not to be a fucking selfish prick and think about someone else for a change?” she hissed.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Of course, you know!”

They were beginning to draw whispers and stunned faces but neither of them was backing down or ashamed enough. Or, perhaps, they were simply completely unaware of the disruption they were causing.

“You knew – no, you still know,” she snarled, jabbing him in the chest with a impeccably manicured finger. “You have never felt like you fit in with these people. That was why you tried so hard. That was why you took every opportunity to be a lapdog. That was why you dated me, because I am not privileged and enabled, that’s why you dragged me into your world and got paranoid when I wasn’t showing the same apprehensions as you, putting me in impossible positions and playing games, when we could have been teamed up against the world, when we could have been yin and yang, but all we were was a pair of damn cowards!”

His eyes went wide.

Fury laced in her helpless expression.

“You could have protected me. All you did was make me throw myself to the wolves to protect you!”

Her hands slammed into his chest and she shoved him, hard. He stumbled back, throwing his right arm out, knocking over a champagne flute and shattering it. Glass exploded onto the floor, delicate shards shooting out and catching the light, scattering into dust beneath designer feet.

People gasped and someone screamed at the unexpected noise.

His left hand reached out and gripped the patent leather sleeve of her jacket. Their gazes locked in shock and comprehension. His lips parted. One of his knees was still bent to steady himself from falling. But before Jungkook could say anything, she squeezed her eyes shut, breaking their connection, and ripped her arm from his grasp.

Then she seized the porcelain bottle with painted blue flowers and threw it onto the floor, shattering that too.

One moment of awful, dazed silence.

The next moment, men in security uniforms swiftly and silently crossed the distance and surrounded them. He was being grabbed and pinned down to the table, metal handcuffs clicked onto his wrists behind his back despite his protests. His jaw dropped when one of the men touched her shoulder and she immediately turned around and slapped him. Instantly, she too was firmly pushed down and also restrained, both of them staring at each other over the surface of the wood, their previously well-styled hair in disarray all over their faces, their eyes wide with the realization of the severity of their public argument.

He couldn’t help but think she looked fucking hot.

Something flickered in her eyes. She recognized his exact thought from their shared look. And his ex-girlfriend burst out laughing at this absurd situation, even as security hoisted them up and dragged them down the stairs. So, fuck it. He couldn’t help it either.

Jungkook started laughing too.

-

“This is your fault, by the way.”

“Feel free to add it to the list of shit I’ve done wrong.”

They were still handcuffed. Both standing a respectful distance away  from each other in the middle of a storeroom crammed with boxes stacked like a cardboard maze. There were no windows. The door was closed and presumably locked. Neither of them had moved towards it. There would be no criminal undercover going on here. They were already in deep enough shit. Adding attempted escape would probably change their current storeroom location into separate jail cells for the night.

They did not look at each other.

Jungkook leaned against the boxes, his hands stuck behind his back. One of the sides of his leather jacket had slipped down, exposing his right shoulder. It was nice, actually, since the previous scuffle had left him rather hot-blooded. He snuck a glance beside him.

His ex-girlfriend’s body was facing the door. The backs of her hands rested on the prominent curve of her ass in that tight lilac skirt, her straight posture making her waist look even smaller. Must be nice to have a built-in shelf. His eye line travelled up to her hair, seeing it half-undone and falling down her neck. Half of the pins were still holding up by sheer luck. The patent leather of her jacket crackled as she adjusted, stretching out her ankle. She was still in her high heels.

“Uncomfortable?” he found himself quietly asking.

“Could be worse,” she answered back, still not turning around.

He waited for her to elaborate.

She didn’t.

The silence was palpable. Somehow not unbearable. He looked back down at his feet, wondering why they had been left here. He half-expected security to escort them off the premises and into a police car, but they had marched them behind the kitchen and told them to stay put and not cause trouble, similarly to how misbehaving kids were put in time-out. Then again, the owner of the club was his affluent friend Kim Seokjin. Perhaps this was a rich people thing. Or an under-the-table thing.

Her voice echoed in his head.

You have never felt like you fit in with these people.

“Hey, uh…” he started, trailing off.

A light sigh.

Then, she shook her head, somewhat vigorously. Some of the hairpins loosened up. “Ugh, my hair is more annoying than anything,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s all messed up.”

Hell yeah, it was, and it was a turn-on, reminding him of after-sex tousling. Jungkook kept his mouth shut. Not the right time for that. He chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he could do anything. Wondering if he should do anything. She still hadn’t turned around.

So, he did.

He turned around, bent down slightly, and tried to reach up. The angle was difficult. Not high enough either. His leather sleeves were also constricting his movement and making loud creaking sounds. He looked back, trying to reach up with a grunt, and she stiffened, swinging her head around. He froze in an awkward position. She stared at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He blinked back. “Um… I… I was trying to help…?”

Her eyebrow raised. “By… doing yoga?”

He let out an impatient huff. “No, I’m trying to help you take the pins out of your hair,” Jungkook clarified, straightening with a frustrated shake of his body. “It’s bothering you, isn’t it? But I’m not flexible enough and you’re too tall in your heels.”

She paused. He looked away, feeling somewhat embarrassed for even trying. Who was he to think that he could do something like that? Hah. His hands tightened behind him. They weren’t close like that anymore. They weren’t even friends.

He felt a sting in his heart remembering that.

“Sorry… I should have asked if you wanted the help at all.”

He exhaled heavily.

Stillness.

Then he heard the crack of patent leather and raised his head to see her squat down, lowering one knee to the concrete floor, her back perfectly straight and her head at his waist height. She was facing the door again so he couldn’t see her expression.

“If… Well, it would be helpful if you could… If you could remove the hairpins,” she mumbled, keeping her head up. “Please.”

He gawked at her kneeled form, unmoving.

His heartbeat accelerated.

“Um… if you’re going to do it, faster would be better,” she added hesitantly with placed-in chuckle. “I don’t know how long I can keep my balance in these shoes.”

His cheeks burned. “Uh, yeah, s-sorry. I’m on it.”

The metal handcuffs clinked as he moved. He turned around and backed up a bit, reaching out to feel for her hair. Sucked in a quiet breath as his fingers grazed the soft strands, memories of stolen nights drifting back to him. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, using touch to search for the hairpins, and then loosening them as gently as he could. One by one. He tried to tuck them in his palm as he continued. Sometimes he would need to rest one hand on her head and use the other to pull them out slowly and carefully. She said nothing, tilting her head slightly as he made his way around. He felt his way along her scalp, running his fingers through her hair, remembering the familiar scent he could detect when he used to breathe it in, remembering his hands holding her head as he used to lean in and kiss her, remembering that he had lost all of that now.

Jungkook lowered his chin, letting out a soundless cry.

“You liked my hair down, I recall,” she commented behind him, her soothing voice mirroring the rolling tide late at night.

“Y… Yeah.”

He smiled despite himself. He pulled back his handcuffed hands.

“You have lovely hair. I don’t like seeing it all tucked away.”

For a moment, there was a quietness as those words sank in. She shifted, and he heard her stand up, the sharp click of her heels indicating as much, but he kept his back to her, unsure if this was the last time he would touch her hair. The last time he hadn’t known it would be the last, so he didn’t mourn the moment until way later, but this time…

“Thank you.”

He breathed in through his nose. Oddly stuffy in here.

“Y… You’re welcome.”

He wished he could take it all back, but he couldn’t. He wished he could prove he was a better man, but he didn’t know how or even if he could. She was right. He had gotten swept up in his ambitions and the superficial relationships. He had been afraid. He had let that fear control him because he had felt out of sorts with who he was, who he was becoming, and who he wanted to be.

“I really… I really am sorry.”

They were back-to-back. Not touching. Just close enough to feel each other’s presence without seeing them. Hands behind their backs, staring in opposite directions but finally seeing the path before them.

“I know.”

She let out a soft breath.

“I wished for the way I felt to change once I could accept your apologies, but,” she whispered. “Life isn’t that simple or clear cut.”

His chest ached. “Yeah.” It didn’t matter if his actions had unintentional consequences. The consequences still existed. “You’re right. About it all. About the person I became and how I treated you because of it. About how this was because of me feeling like I don’t fit in.”

She didn’t say anything, yet Jungkook could sense her acknowledgment. He couldn’t really explain why he knew. Maybe it had something to do with their current circumstances.

“I keep trying and I… I don’t know. Maybe I’m too simple-minded. Maybe I can’t understand the world these people live in. I mean, my friends seem like normal people but there are still moments where I catch myself thinking, I wouldn’t have thought to do or say that. I feel so… disconnected, sometimes. Meaningless. Maybe I’m not worth a damn to them.”

He was rambling, slipping between his refined dialect and his Busan satoori. He caught himself, about to correct his wording.

“You don’t have to be like the people around you to fit in,” she chided.

He stopped trying to form a sentence and listened.

“You don’t listen. That has always been your strength. Your charm is your natural character with the added spice of rebellion.” Her chuckle lightened, making his heart tighten and feel like exploding at the same time. “Your talent has always been bravely walking your own path, confusing as it may be. There is a pureness in that. You have friends because they want to protect that part of you. Haven’t you noticed? Your friends have never asked you to change or be like them. They just accept you for how you are and push away people who try to mold you into their vision.”

His friends? Well, true, they were the main reasons for him getting the jobs he got. He had always felt somewhat inadequate, realizing his success was from seniors in the industry helping him out. They all told him that this was how it worked. They all told him to do well so he could get more opportunities. It was part of the reason that he felt that he couldn’t let those connections down. He had always felt that he couldn’t refuse.

“Your friends have always been on your side. They don’t want you to be like them. They want you to stay as you are. You mean that much to those around you.”

But perhaps he had been wrong all along.

“Only you thought you needed to change.”

There was probably a lot of sound outside, but the distracting racket was inaudible from the distant storeroom. Her quiet voice amplified her words in this slice of stillness. There something stricken and bitter haunting the air between them as the revelation settled.

He clutched her hairpins in his fist.

“I didn’t… I didn’t date you just because you weren’t part of this vapid world I’m in.”

He wanted her to know.

“I wish…”

The tears stung the corners of his eyes. He refused to let them go. Jungkook looked up to the ceiling, taking in each breath as steadily as he could. He felt like he was drowning, except instead of water, it was all the things he never said.

“I wish I could have been strong enough for you to be angry at me sooner. Tonight, I realized… It was my own shortcomings that made you stay quiet.” He chuckled dryly in admiration. “You endured more than I ever could. More than anyone should.” He didn’t know if he was making any sense but he kept on going. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so mad. That was the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you. You must have spent a lot of nights… feeling so alone because of my selfishness.”

This was not a romantic setting at all. They were stuck in a storeroom with no windows, surrounded by boxes, handcuffed for being a public disruption, for being too dramatic and too emotional. Neither of them could look at the other. A disaster in every sense of the world.

But.

Maybe this was the most honest moment they had ever shared.

Her laugh simmered behind him.

“I’m sorry for losing my shit.”

He half-smiled in rueful relief.

“It wasn’t so bad. Low-key kinda hot. I almost lost the plot at times.”

She laughed under her breath. “You don’t mean that.”

A single heartbeat of silence.

“I kinda do,” he admitted, feeling the upturned corners of his lips falter.

It became quiet once more. An embarrassed quiet, but maybe only on his side. Jungkook still couldn’t bring himself to turn around and find out. He shifted awkwardly, realizing he was still holding her hairpins in his hand. Uh. Well, he couldn’t exactly ask her to put them in her pocket. Did she even have any pockets with that outfit? He furrowed his brows, thinking about that tight skirt and lace corset. Doubtful there would be any pockets in such fitted clothing. Maybe in her jacket, but it was so short that he would basically have to reach for her tits to…

His face heated slightly realizing that he was heavily focusing on her body right now.

Click.

He didn’t really register the sound behind him at first. It sounded like something falling onto the concrete. There was another sharp tapping sound, but before he could shift and twist his body to see, he felt her fingertips brush against the knuckles of his fist.

“I’m sorry too.”

He was too shocked to even move or react. Just stood there wide-eyed, struck by the lightning of her touch, realizing they were that close and that it was her who initiated that.

“I should have brought up the little things that bothered me. I shouldn’t have let it snowball simply because I thought it would make your life easier. I should have tried to remind you not to be intimidated by those around you,” she sighed heavily. “And I should have believed in your apology more than I did.”

The pads of her fingertips stilled.

One by one, they lost contact.

Jungkook dropped all the hairpins on the floor in a cascade of metal raindrops.

He reached back and grabbed her hand, gripping her fingers tightly, gasping as he felt her cool skin against his warmth. He felt her initial rise of reluctance, however, she did not pull away. Their handcuffs clinked against each other, the chains colliding. He scrambled to reach a little higher. Grasping her hand in his. Her right in his right. He tried to say something. Something romantic, something reassuring, something self-derogatory even.

But nothing come out.

He tried to breathe and was choked by inner tears. Tried again, shaking, trying to be silent. Her fingers curled around the back of his hand and laid there. She gave him a light squeeze.

“Don’t worry.”

Her calming voice a dream on this night.

“I’m here.”

They held hands.

It must have been only for a short while. It felt like forever packed in minutes. He inhaled deeply, catching fleeting traces of her sweet and sultry perfume. Closed his eyes with an exhale. Another inhale, slower this time. Maybe this was futile. Maybe this was objectively wildly inappropriate. Maybe he was the fucking worst, wishing, hoping they could reset to something new. All of this could crash and burn.

Or.

Or, maybe.

He swallowed tightly. Leaned back just a little. Their shoulder blades touched. A moment of suspended anticipation. She leaned back against him. The backs of their heads didn’t yet touch. He felt her hair on his neck. It was only the tops of their backs that touched, but now there was only centimeters of trembling air between them.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice rough and nervous.

“Only a little.” Her thumb brushed against the side of his palm. “I’ll be alright.”

Yeah, he knew that. “You’re the most capable person I know.”

She sighed. “It’s not all sunshine and roses.”

He scrunched up his face in search for the words. “Well… You suit moonlight and thorns more.”

She nearly snorted. He felt her shoulders shake in silent laughter. He winced, thinking he said something wrong.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I like those better, anyway!” He blurted it out quickly. Maybe too quickly, curling a bit in on himself once he realized what he said, cringing, but she tugged on his hand ever so slightly. It was obvious she was shaking her head from her hair swishing over his neck.

“You always had a thirst for danger, Jungkook.”

Her tone was slight and playful. He felt his cheeks burn and his heart race so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe from the pressure. Nearly stuttered when he heard his name in her voice, clenching his jaw shut so he didn’t make a fool of himself. Again. His entire body tensed, on edge and vibrating from the rush of emotions.

“Are you trying to break my hand?”

He was gripping her hand way too tight. “S-Sorry!” He loosened his stiff fingers, twisting his wrist to keep his hand cupped around hers. “Sorry…”

“Heh, it’s not like you to apologize,” she teased.

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Hey...”

Her head laid against his shoulder.

He stilled, heartbeat pounding. She looked up at the ceiling. At least, he presumed that from the angle. The back of her head touched his left shoulder, just barely. Her hair spilled against his collarbone and back, messy and free.

“I bet you have somebody. You’re too good-looking to have nobody lined up.”

Her murmur was soft and resigned. Guilty.

Her words hung in the air.

He tipped his head back, the nape of his neck against her shoulder. The patent leather of her jacket squeaked loudly under his presence. He wished. He hoped. He…

“I have someone,” he confessed.

He squeezed her hand. Their faces tilted upwards to the ceiling, and still Jungkook could recall every detail of her eyes – the way they glimmered when she smiled, the way they sparked when she was serious, the way they twinkled during all their special moments, the way they hollowed out when she turned away from him.

His fingers gently separated hers, interlocking.

The words were at the tip of his tongue.

His lips parted.

Suddenly there were loud footsteps on the other side of the heavy wood door. His ex-girlfriend jerked up in alarm. Jungkook stumbled. Both of them quickly sprang away from each other as the noisy jangle of keys was heard and then the heavy door swung open, revealing the two of them standing there, tense, now staring wide-eyed at a tall, broad-shouldered man flanked by two security guards. His black hair was perfectly parted, half brushing against his forehead and half combed back, giving a corporate feel in his tailored black suit. He was strikingly handsome by all accounts. Intense dark brown eyes, sculpted brows, full lips, stunning jawline.

Kim Seokjin wore an exasperated, annoyed expression.

He ticked his head to Jeon Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend.

“You. Come with me.”

She hesitated for a second and stepped forward, hanging her head a bit. “I sincerely apologize for the trouble I’ve caused.”

It would be expected for such a stern, posh-looking man to be harsh. Instead, Seokjin stuck his fists by his waist and sighed loudly, similarly to a disappointed grandmother scolding her favorite child.

“Haaah… come on. You’re not going to jail. I want to talk to you alone. Hey, uncuff her,” the owner of the nightclub tutted. One of the security guards went around her to unlock the handcuffs. “It took me a while to handle everything out there. At least the incident won’t be on the news or anything.” He reached out and held her elbow as she was released, steadying her balance and leading her out of the room. The guards followed, not taking a second glance back.

Jungkook frowned. “Hey, hyung–”

Seokjin whipped up and pointed a finger at him. “No. You stay here.”

Jungkook balked, offended. “What?! What about me?”

The older man glared at him like he was the naughty child. “I’ll have a conversation with you after. Stay.”

Anger boiled high. “I’m not a dog!”

Offensively, Seokjin barked back with, “You’re right. Dogs are loyal. And want to listen to people. You have the listening skills of a straw. In one end and out the other.”

The door slammed shut with finality.

Jungkook stood there, speechless, gawking at the sheer audacity.

Then he kicked the floor with a roar of impatience once Kim Seokjin’s insult finally registered. What the hell! Kim Seokjin was the one to invite him here in the first place! Seokjin was the oldest of Jungkook’s friends that took him under his wing, teaching him about various business aspects behind the scenes and making sure Jungkook knew the importance of having a good lawyer to look over his contracts. Now Seokjin had him locked up as if he was a five-year-old receiving a time out! Who did he think he was, his disciplinarian?

“What the fuck?!”

Then Jungkook ceased all movement, no longer stomping around in circles.

It was him.

Kim Seokjin had invited him here tonight.

It was him. Kim Seokjin had told him he better get his ass over here on this night in particular if he knew what was good for him. Not unusual, as his friends usually had to threaten him to go outside these days. It was you. You invited her here. It wasn’t Taehyung who invited her. He had been telling the truth all along.

“That bastard.”

Snarling, Jungkook whipped his head to the door and glared at it, fully intending to charge like a goddamn bull right into Kim Seokjin once it opened again.

I, I hear the whispers in your eyes I'll make you wanna think twice you'll find that you were never not mine you're mine

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

masterpost

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: I

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: In the spirit of Christmas hehe

Masterlist, Prologue

He didn’t believe that you were gone no matter what anyone said.

Everyone was saying the same thing. You were gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring you back. However, Min Yoongi didn’t like their answer and anyone who said that you had already passed on from this earth was met with his wrath that was communicated through his fists and weapons. No one could even tell him that he now couldn’t physically follow where you were. In his twisted mind, he thought that he could follow you because you never left this earth. Of course, he could follow. You did promise, after all, that you would never go somewhere where he couldn’t fucking follow. His angel would never lie to him, he thought. But your absence was saying otherwise. Your absence was too loud.

The days following the moment he opened his eyes and learned of your demise were bloody and dark. Everyone was on edge, and the traitors went to hell here on earth. They did wish they had died instead, but death was never quick when it came to them, nor was it painless. Min Yoongi made sure that they felt every ounce of pain he felt when you were taken away from him. His brothers could not even reason with the man. They didn’t know how to handle this Min Yoongi. It was as though he died there with you, and what was left of him was only his darkness. Agustd was already ruthless, but now he was just outright cruel, burning everything and everyone that crossed his path.

No one could even say their piece to him-well, all except Kim Seokjin. Despite Jin choosing the less violent life and despite him spending his days treating people in the hospital, no one could deny the power he naturally excluded. It was the power that was inherent to him when he was unfortunate enough to be born to a father that was the previous mafia king. Kim Seokjin may possessed the face of an angel, but he was the most dangerous of them all. It was just that he had a patience of a saint, and everyone fret the day someone snapped his patience. He was a dangerous, eccentric man. And he was a ticking time bomb in comparison to Taehyung who just kept on exploding without an end in sight. Min Yoongi, though, was known to be a reasonable man, his calm nature was never broken. It took losing you to break the calmness in him. The days after he woke up, he was seen back where he was the happiest. Day after day, Yoongi could be found there, leaning against the tree with cigarette in between his lips as he looked at the ruins of your house. The fire took everything from him. It was angry as it smoldered what once was his latibule to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Yoongi thought that the world was simply too cruel to him to strip away the only place he had of you. He couldn’t even smell you anymore, couldn’t even go to the place that was full of your presence.

How cruel was it to have you once and never again? How cruel was it for him to finally have found the warmth, to finally have basked in it for a moment too short, only for him to live in a winter forever after you? He would never admit to anyone that each time he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw was the moment you fell as the bullet pierced your skin. So, he had not been sleeping well. If you were here, he thought, you would chase away all the demons in his head. If you were here, you would put your arms around him, rub your hands on his shoulder in a soothing way only you knew how, and you would silently tell him that everything would be okay, that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Yoongi couldn’t do anything. All he did was to go to the place where he found and lost you.

He was always there, Jimin noted. He made this place your temple, mural and shrine. However, never once did he visit where you were finally laid to rest. Never once did he even acknowledge your death. It was like not seeing it would make your death untrue. And so, day after day, hour after hour, the man could be found there as though he was waiting on a miracle, as though if he waited long enough then you would return, as though if he stayed long enough, you would walk back and smile at him, all while calling him a fool for looking too sad.

But you never did.  

And after a whole year, Min Yoongi never uttered your name again.

---

“Y-you’re supposed to be the good one! W-what is the Chief of Police doing here?!”

Yoongi watched in boredom as Jungkook pushed a man to kneel in front of him. The warehouse was quiet, well, save for the screaming of the traitors. The other brothers were busy with torturing the remaining traitors they kept alive. And today, he was faced with the last remaining traitor they had yet to kill. See, this asshole was so below the rank that he didn’t know that the Chief of Police was also the same Agustd, the leader of the mafia.

He was nothing, Yoongi thought. And yet, he was the one who blew up your house. He could almost laugh if he still knew how.  “T-the public will know! I’ll tell them that you’re the d-devil!”

Yoongi blew the smoke on his face emotionlessly, a strand of his dark hair falling on his face. “You’re not an intelligent man, are you?” he asked evenly before pulling the cigarette in between his lips and onto the idiot’s eyelid. He heeded his screams no mind as he removed his jacket with his badge on it. Someone from his right stepped in to carefully fold his jacket. Yoongi folded his sleeves to his elbows and without any warning, punched the man on his face.

The man proved to be an even greater fool as he laughed in false bravado, blood a stark contrast against his crooked teeth, “Is that all you can do? You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re a civil servant!”

“Is that so?” he asked in a conversational tone as he picked up a knife, putting it up over the light to inspect it before turning to the buffoon. “Which hand burned the house?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked at Jungkook and the latter manhandled the man near the table, flatting both his hand on it. “Which hand should I cut?” He walked nearer to them as though he had all the time in the world. “This one,” he stabbed the table, missing the man’s hand by a centimeter. “Or this one?” he repeated the action for the right hand, except that this time he intentionally stabbed the knife through his thumb, severely cutting it. “Oh no,” he said in a deadpanned voice before looking directly at him. “Guess my aim got bad.”

“W-who are y-you?!”

He smiled at him; his eyes remained emotionless. “Hi, I’m Agustd. Nice to meet you. So which hand?”

“N-No! No, please! I’ll give you what you want-“

Yoongi sighed, already losing his patience. “You do have to choose. We won’t stop until you only have one hand. Or do you want me to choose?”

“L-lef-“

Before the traitor could even finish sputtering what Yoongi deemed was bullshit, he buried the hilt of the knife into his hand. He didn’t even blink when he felt resistance from his bones, Yoongi merely kept on pushing, uncaring of the wailing man. He never stopped until he the knife finally touched the surface of the table.

And after that, he stabbed his hand again. He never ceased, not until the hand was completely mutilated. He never stopped, not even when the blood kept sputtering on his face from the man’s open wound, a stark contrast on his pale white complexion. He never stopped even when the man lost consciousness.

“He’s going to die, Yoongi,” Seokjin noted lightly from his seat. From outside looking in, he looked like a perfect image of peace, yet the hold he had on his phone was a telltale sign that he was far from pleased. He was not even phased by the violence around him, his focus merely on the whereabouts of his runaway sunshine. “I do not have the patience required to revive a dying man tonight.”

Yoongi paused, leering at the man who was slipping in and out of consciousness, before heeding his hyung’s statement. He did not want to test Jin’s patience tonight when it was apparent that he was barely holding on to his control.

He didn’t want to kill this man tonight. No. He planned on keeping him alive for years and years to come. He planned to give him hope, only for him to squash it away like he did his. As long as Yoongi shall live, then he shall suffer with him. As long as he was living in this fucked-up nightmare where you weren’t by his side, then so should he lived his very own crafted nightmare.

If he wasn’t happy, then why should anyone be?

---

“That phone looks like it wants to rest,” Jimin observed lightly as he and his hyung visited another crime scene that was definitely not because of them. It was three hours away from Seoul, the travel time giving him headache, similar to what Jimin was giving him. He watched as Yoongi ended the call before glaring at him.

“What about my phone, Jimin?”

“It looks like it wants to retire. Please, for the love of all that’s good, let me buy you a phone.”

“No.” It was the only thing he had of you.

“Whyyyyy do you love that phone so much, hyung? Our enemies would think our business is not doing good that you cannot even buy yourself a phone!”

Yoongi just shrugged his broad shoulders before walking out of the police line and through the busy market. He nodded at the policemen as they acknowledged him. His watchful eyes observed the chipper attitude of the marketgoers, chatting among themselves. He wondered how people could wake up this early and yet looked so alive. He hadn’t felt alive since that night. However, he thought that had you been here, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would. He would wake up at an ungodly hour for you.

He could hear Jimin chatter beside him as they navigated their way out of the busy street when it happened. Until it all turned into a white noise when it happened.

When he saw you.

He halted his brisk walk, his eyes following as you walked away yet again from him.

 For a brief moment, he believed your eyes met. For a brief moment, he felt his heart beat again. Yet, your eyes seemed to hold no recognition for him as it only passed through him. You didn’t even stop. It was as though he was merely a stranger.

On the other hand, he thought that you looked different, but he knew in his dead heart that it was you.

Or was it his mind finally crumbling on him, reveling on his insanity?

He blinked once and you were gone.

Jimin, suffice to say, was shocked as his hyung ran back. He never saw him moved that fast, uncaring of the people who he would runover from his haste. His dark coat trailed behind him as he moved, a touch of desperation evident, compelling Jimin to reluctantly trail after him. Yoongi forcefully cleared a path, parting the crowd with determined strides. His singular focus was on reaching you, leaving his mind devoid of any other thoughts.

It was you, he was sure. It was his angel.

He was almost sure.

But when he reached where he saw you last, you weren’t there.

Jimin was breathless when he finally reached his hyung who was looking around the crowd like a lost child. His hands were on his waist as his desperate eyes searched for…who, exactly?

“What happened, hyu-“

“It was her, Jimin-ah. I saw her.”

He blinked, following his hyung’s shifting gaze. “Who?”

“My angel. She’s alive."

Latibule 2.II

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Jin Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

One Shots

Golden Boy (s) by @kpopfanfictrash ⊹₊⋆ The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.

glazed & dazed (s f) by @floralseokjin ⊹₊⋆ Vanilla, that’s what you do best as one of the industry’s most loved stars. Only you want a change. Taking the plunge to taint your pure image, knowing so many fans would love to see it sullied, even if just for one movie. There’s only one man for the job in your eyes. One you’ve always admired from afar, and the only one who’s perfect enough to take your innocence in the most fitting way. Seokjin Kim. Even more famous than you; a pro, a veteran, and someone you can’t wait to give your all for. Together you will be unstoppable.

meet me at the bar (s f) by @eoieopda ⊹₊⋆ You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Stuck with you (a s f) by @taleasnewastime ⊹₊⋆ It’s the first Christmas since your dad passed away. You, your mum and sister are going to his favourite place to do his favourite thing, skiing. And yet you’re not there. Stuck. Stranded. Trapped. In seemingly the single hottest place in the world. Your transfer flight cancelled so you’re now stuck between home and your family. A snowstorm that causes all flights to be cancelled, heat that just seems wrong at Christmas, your sister crying and shouting down the phone at you, and to top it off, the most annoying man in the world who’s in the same position as you and seems to think you’re friends because of that fact. Merry Christmas to you.

fast lane (a f s) @yminie ⊹₊⋆ “Disgruntledly, you think to yourself how frustrating it is he can be quite so awful of a person and still be so good looking.” Alternatively; Boy Toy racer Kim Seokjin lives to test; the laws of speed, how many women he can bag, how much money he can convince people to give him, and quite how far you can be pushed before you snap.

small tuna fish (f s) by @floralseokjin ⊹₊⋆ Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? 

Lost and Found (a f) @taleasnewastime ⊹₊⋆ What do you do when your whole world comes crashing down around you? When everything you loved turns out to be a lie? When your fiancé tells you he’s been having an affair, you feel like your whole world comes crashing down, but then you find an antiques shop and the strange man that runs the shop helps you slowly rebuild your life and realise maybe not everything about you is broken.

Sit. Stay. (f a s) by @daechwitatamic ⊹₊⋆ Your new puppy, Zinnia, has turned your world on its head. She’s ruined everything from your sleep schedule to your favorite shoes, and you know it’s your own failure to train her properly. When your cute upstairs neighbor tells you about a local obedience academy, he slowly starts to make himself a place in your schedule, your life, and your heart. After your last relationship went up in flames, will his affections be something else you can count as a failure?

Last November (a s) by @kithtaehyung ⊹₊⋆ you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place?

Cherry Topper (a s) by @kth1 ⊹₊⋆ Seokjin is a chaotically fun-loving guy who works long and hard hours at his successful, family owned candy store named Kim’s Sweet’s Shop, located on the corner of Cherry Lane. Being consistently busy with the labor of his work schedule and attending college to finish off his masters program, he has a very little social life and definitely does not have time for dating on this romantic, hectic holiday. But from right under his nose, one of his many admirers just so happens to be the sugar-coated treat that he’s been missing out on.

you've been avoiding me all day (a f) by @ugh-yoongi

[berryhobii]

Baby Girl: Show Out (ksj x reader)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Kim Seokjin x SugarBaby!Brat!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K+

Warnings: established relationship(reader and Seokjin are technically together), smut (18+ but I don’t control what you consume, oral(m and f receiving), orgasms(f receiving), exhibitionism, getting caught but not caring, mentions of ruining furniture from s*x😝, reader’s definitely a bitch in this but I love it, Seokjin’s also violating so many company policies but remember this is fiction.

A/N: Hi hi! Here’s another one shot for my BabyGirl couple. I feel like I don’t read enough fics where reader is a mondo bitch so here’s my contribution🫣reader is in fact dark skinned in this and their style is Y2K and AaliyahCore if you didn’t know already. It’s just something about bad bitches in tiny skirts that I absolutely love😭anyway, please enjoy and stay safe🩵🩵

~

Blowing a bubble with your fruity flavored gum and then popping it, you strutted down the clean and spacious hallways, only the thought of that new Sanrio pop up that just opened downtown on your mind. You had seen an Instagram post about it earlier and your eyes could have bursted with rainbows and glitter. A Cinnamoroll plush in a bear costume? Yes! You needed it!

The only problem was you had spent the last of your allowance on a new Telfar purse and every color of those Bailey Bow UGG boots. Why exactly did you need every color? Obviously because the company made every color, duh. Why make multiple colors if they didn’t want people buying all of them? It was a smart business tactic that you’d fall for every time.

With those packages on the way and that Cinnamoroll calling your name, it was time for you to do what you do best.

Flutter your lashes and sweet talk your sugar daddy into giving you his credit card.

And deepthroating. You were good at that too. Maybe you could do both.

As your bright red MoonBoots(gotta get into the holiday spirit!) carried you down the hallways, you could feel the loathing stares and hear the gossiping whispers of each person you passed in the halls.

Unlike most sugar daddies and sugar babies, you and Seokjin didn’t hide your relationship at all. Everyone knew who you were and what your relationship entailed. Initially, Seokjin kept you under wraps; only coming to see you in the dead of night, renting out places for your dates so that no one would see you together. Sometimes, he’d make you wear masks and sunglasses when you’d enter and exit his condo. It was going pretty well.

However, after an employee at a restaurant he brought you to secretly snapped a photo of the both of you and posted it online, the secret could no longer be hidden. So after suing that employee and addressing multiple news outlets out his secret relationship, you were allowed to parade around freely. With the news of South Korea’s biggest bachelor having a sugar baby, you had to be more careful in public. Seokjin assigned you a driver and he tried to get you a security guard but you insisted that would pull more attention to you. He wasn’t sure but after giving him a blowjob and signing up for self defense classes, he relented.

Since you didn’t have to hide yourself anymore, you waltzed into Seokjin’s office like you owned it. Always dressed loudly and fashionably, a designer bag swinging on your arm and Tiffany studs in your ears(never less than 18 carats), you were the head bitch. New York would be so proud of you!

And every jealous woman’s stare only stroked your ego further.

You reached the desk of Seokjin’s personal secretary. While you didn’t have to stop to talk to her, you got a kick out of pissing her off. No one knew except you and Seokjin but he told you that Rina had confessed her feelings to him a little bit after you two had initially started your relationship. He had politely rejected her and there was no awkwardness from his side. He still treated her kindly and relied on her as his secretary.

Then the news of you came to the light and all of those bitter feelings of rejection evolved into pure anger and transferred right to you.

She lifted her eyes from her computer, face immediately dropping at the sight of your wide smile.

“Good afternoon, Rina. How are you today?”

Rolling her eyes, she let out a frustrated sigh before gritting out a, “fine.” She wanted nothing more but to tell you to get the hell out of her face but everyone knew you had Seokjin wrapped around your finger. Any disrespect towards you was practically asking to get fired. And Rina liked this job and it’s benefits too much to let you ruin it.

And you knew that.

“Do you like my new purse?” You held up the bag in her face. “It’s from the new Marc Jacobs collection.”

Her lips formed a sneer, eyebrow twitching slightly. “Is it? I couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah. It’s probably not in your price range so I get it.” You shot back with a bitchy smirk. Smoke could have came out of her ears from how red her face became. “Anyway, is Seokjin in?”

Swallowing down the rising insult in her throat, she gritted out, “he’s busy right now.”

Checking your nails, totally ignoring what she just said. “Alright then I’ll go in. Oh do me a favor?”

She watched you take the gum out of your mouth and stick it right on the pad of sticky notes on her desk. You shot her a quick wink before walking by her, leaving her jaw dropped and blood boiling.

Opening the door, you strutted inside the spacious room. You spotted the new leather couches off to the right. Those were your idea; leather was easier to clean. You and Seokjin absolutely destroyed those fabric sofas he had with your antics. Did furniture warranty’s cover acts of kinky sex that would make a nun faint? They should.

That aside, your focus went to the objective of this visit.

Posture slightly hunched and deft fingers typing over his keyboard, Seokjin was absorbed in whatever work was in front of him. At the sound of the door opening and closing, he lifted his gaze. His eyes immediately brightened at the sight of you, thick lips stretching across beautiful straight teeth. You reciprocated his cheesy grin, happily skipping over to his desk with a newfound pep in your step. Placing your purse on the corner of the desk, you leaned both of your palms on the wood.

He pushed down the screen of his laptop, his spine straightening as his mood immediately improved. “Baby girl. What a surprise.” He couldn’t stop himself from taking a glance at your cleavage that was on display in the red bra you wore, a black mesh long sleeved distressed shirt under it which just barely helped hide your pebbled nipples. He always thought you looked cute but this look was just on the edge of sexy. As if the black mini skirt and garter belt wasn’t enough, the red choker around your throat made him go crazy.

His stare didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Am I interrupting anything?” If you were, you didn’t really care but you weren’t anything if not a polite baby girl.

“Of course not. I was just sending a few emails. I was about to take a break anyway.” He moved his chair back a little, patting a hand on his lap. You smiled, rounding his desk to take your rightful place on his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you, leaning in nose at your shoulder and press a few kisses there.

“You look beautiful today.”

You cupped his cheek to lift his head, rubbing your nose against his. “Thank you. So do you.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into a hot and lip gloss sticky kiss. He sighed contentedly against your mouth, his fingers squeezing at your hip and thighs. Taking the initiative, you tilted his head back to kiss him deeper and to play for dominance just a little bit.

Seokjin smirked into the lip lock. He’d never admit it but he loved when you took control. You were submissive through and through—his good girl. However you had your few moments where you could get a little bratty, a little brave and he couldn’t deny the small thrill it sent through him. It sparked his own inner dom and made him want to gently push you back into that submissive state.

Then again, this was pretty hot too.

He let you kiss him how you wanted for a little bit, just relaxing and letting himself melt into you and your affection.

After a little making out, you parted from him, giggling at his slightly flushed cheeks and pouty lips. Your thumb swiped over his spit slicked bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Mhmm. How much do you need?”

Welp, guess that deepthroating was off the table.

Dramatically gasping, you held a hand to your chest in faux shock. “How dare you? I came here to have an engaging conversation with you.”

He rolled his eyes, not believing you for a second. While you two have been together for a while and have shared many intimate and romantic times together, the sugar daddy/baby dynamic still remained at the base of all of that. You visited him at work every often, normally for lunch dates or to show him a new outfit but you only had that bounce in your step when you came to ask for something.

He also had never seen that purse before which probably meant you had spent your allowance.

Ugh. You were spoiled and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fine then. Start the conversation.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

Damn it. He got you.

Slumping in defeat, you sighed, jutting out your bottom lip. “Okay fine. I spent my allowance and I want to go to the Sanrio pop up downtown.”

His grin was as endearing as it was heart fluttering. Either way, it was dangerous for your heart. Why did he have to be so damn handsome? How could you charm the pants off a man that had you like putty in his hands just from a simple smile?

“What if I told you I was already planning on taking you there tomorrow?”

Your smile was so wide you could have sponsored Colgate. A squeal of glee came from your throat, your arms yanking him into a hug as you bounced on his lap.

He laughed at your reaction, returning the embrace with the arm that was behind your back.

“Really?! Oh my goodness!” You pressed multiple pecks across his cheeks and nose, covering every inch of his face in your gloss.

“But while you’re here, why don’t we have lunch together? There’s a nice buffet that just opened not too far from here. I think I have a meeting in a little while but we can go when I’m done.”

“That sounds amazing.” You hummed, sweetly kissing his lips again.

Hands began feeling, kisses began getting a little more desperate, and eventually, your panties were soaked.

What could you say? Money made you horny. Quoting the wise words of your president Yung Miami and her vice president JT: “don’t nothing but a bag make this pussy talk.” Ah, you should get that framed and hung on your wall.

Your acrylics scratched at the nape of his neck, your tongues swirling around each others in a battle for dominance. He won, of course but only because you let him.

You pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth and biting just a little before releasing it.

“What do you say?” He started for you, eyes hypnotic and luscious lips slightly parted. You wanted to kiss all the air out of his lungs.

That seductive glint in your eye paired with that coy smirk…..

“Thank you, daddy.”

You drove him fucking insane.

Boisterous giggles came from your mouth as he hauled you onto his desk before sitting back down in his chair. You instinctively spread your legs for him, giving him a front row seat to your pussy lips.

He groaned, erection beginning to strain against his dress pants.

“No panties? You bad girl.” His thumb ran across your folds, smearing your wetness to your clit. “What if someone would have seen?”

You bit your lip. “I might have flashed a man downstairs….”

That confession warranted a light slap to your clit making you jump.

Seokjin’s eyes were dark and his smirk was smug, cocky almost because he knew that only he could touch you.

“Naughty girl. Will daddy need to punish you? Flashing what’s mine to people.” He scolded with a tut, both thumbs moving to spread your puffy lips apart so he could see your winking hole.

You whined, wiggling your bottom. “I’m sorry, daddy. It was an accident. I’m a good girl, I swear.”

His hot breath blew over your clit, tongue flicking out to tease it.

“That’s right. Your daddy’s good girl.”

The licks to your clit were calculated and firm, your head falling back as you were finally getting some much needed relief. You hadn’t seen Seokjin for 3 days and the strict No Touching rule he gave you meant that your pussy was feeling a little neglected.

But now he was about to give you exactly what you needed.

When his plush lips wrapped around your precious little clit, your back arched and you let a whiny moan out into the air. That same sinfully flexible tongue trailed down to your gushing hole, digging further to all the splits he could reach. Your arms couldn’t hold you anymore, your back meeting his desk and your head hanging over the side.

Your viscous arousal tasted so god damn good on his tongue. He couldn’t control his own moans as his mouth worked you higher and higher.

And you were making the prettiest noises; your gasps for air and whiny squeaks whenever he’d give you a deep suck to your clit. They just made him want to absolutely devour you, just to pull more of those delightful sounds from you. His arms wrapped around your thighs to pull you closer, loud slurps and licks filling the space next to your moans.

He felt your hand loop through his hair, letting you take over a little and chase your high. Not that he needed any help getting you there, you always got lost in pleasure, desperate to climb that mountain and tumble off of it.

Seokjin was so absorbed in your juicy cunt that he didn’t even hear the knock on his office door.

Through your hazy and half lidded eyes, you noticed the door open, a familiar face peeking inside.

Rina.

“Sir, are you-“

Her body froze at the sight of you laid out across the rich mahogany desk, her boss’s face buried between your legs. She knew you two weren’t very secretive about what went down. Hell, even she wasn’t dense enough to think you two didn’t get frisky in multiple parts of this office. The main gossip during lunchtime was about people hearing you and Seokjin having sex in places like bathrooms, private conference rooms, even the break room that one time. She didn’t care about it considering she didn’t like you very much and hated giving you the satisfaction that you irked her soul.

Actually catching you two in the act was not in her Bingo card this year.

It was in yours though.

Smirking, you let out a pornographic moan.

“Oh my god, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!”

Rina watched stunned, your eyes locked with hers in a display of dominance and arrogance that could only come from someone like you.

Pampered. Pretty. And a spoiled bitch.

You loved your life.

Seokjin hummed, lips wrapping around your clit again. “Cum in my mouth, baby girl.”

“Yes daddy!” Your back arched as the waves came crashing down on you, the hand tangled in his air keeping him in place against your clit. He stayed where you wanted him, delivering little kitten licks to your bud to help you ride it out. He greedily slurped up every sticky drip of wetness you had, more pouring from your hole.

When you released him, he sat up, your juices dripping down his chin and his kissable lips cherry red from all their hard work.

Your chest rose and fell with deep breaths as you lifted yourself from his desk. Grabbing his chin with one hand, you bent down to capture his lips in a kiss.

“Thank you daddy.” You whispered against his pout. “Why don’t I repay the favor?”

“Get on your knees, baby girl.”

“Yes daddy. I also think Rina wants to talk to you.”

Slipping down from his desk, your knees hit the floor and your hands went for his belt.

That’s when Seokjin finally took notice of his secretary. Running a hand through his messy hair, he acknowledged her. “Yes Rina?”

As if his call of her name pressed the play button on her universal remote, she broke from her state of shock.

“I-I….uh….you-your m-meeting is in 10 minutes.” She stammered out.

Nodding, he looked down at you who had already began slobbering all over his cock, your hand pumping at his shaft.

“Heard that baby girl? 10 minutes.”

“That’s all I need.”