#taehyung mutual pining | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jemshopes · 11 months ago

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You Haunt Me || Taekook

--Taekook historical au

-- mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers.

Jungkook is a prince of a prosperous kingdom and has been betrothed to wed a beautiful princess from a foreign land. But when he meets her he can’t help his eyes from wandering to her brother, Taehyung, the newly crowned king, who stands hand in hand with his own beautiful wife.

Just picture this. There's rumours of a war brewing in the west. Taehyung is the new king of a very powerful kingdom in the wake of his father (the old king) passing away. Jungkook is the prince of a much smaller kingdom that wants to make an alliance with Taehyung to protect themselves in case a war does break out, and it just so happens Taehyung is now in charge of marrying his sister off. Honestly I’m kind of thinking like almost a Bridgerton Edwina, Kate and Anthony situation.

From the moment Jungkook and Tae first see each other they’re both very hot and bothered, and Jungkook is terrible at hiding it and he thinks Taehyung hates him because Taehyung is always so reserved and cold towards him or just a bit rude.

Jungkook has never particularly kicked up a fuss about having to have an arranged marriage. He knows it's his duty as a prince and as the future king. But when he sees Taehyung it just changes everything. Jungkook cannot stop thinking about him and when Taehyung acts so cold towards him it devastates Jungkook. Because he’s trying so hard to get to know his future brother-in-law, he’s trying so hard to feign interest in Taehyung's sister. She's a lovely person and he genuinely enjoys talking to her. Perhaps if Taehyung did not exist he could even one day fall in love with her—Jungkook is no stranger to finding both men and women attractive—but Taehyung does exist. Taehyung has a wife, also a wonderful person. Jungkook just needs Taehyung to treat him kindly because he cannot bear the thought of Taehyung hating him for some unknown reason on top of everything else. Perhaps if Taehyung did not treat him so coldly then Jungkook's feelings for him would not feel so strong.

He snaps one evening after several failed attempts to engage Taehyung in conversation.

He found him in the palace library and it was just the two of them. and Jungkook had drunk just enough wine at dinner to be brave enough to blurt, “Did I do something to offend you? Please, if I do, tell me and I shall make it right. I would hate for there to be any animosity between us given that we are to be family.”

Taehyung looks at him with an unreadable expression. The same unreadable expression that has been driving Jungkook crazy for several weeks now.

“You have not offended me,” he says simply, and goes back to his book.

“Then why do you treat me so coldly?” Jungkook asks, wanting to rip the book from Taehyung’s hands (and quite possibly rip Tae’s clothes from his body).

“I do not treat you coldly,” Taehyung says, standing and heading towards the door. “I treat everyone this way. Goodnight.”

But Jungkook finds himself following Taehyung down the palace corridors. “I do not believe you. I have seen you smile at my mother, my father, your sister. You have smiled at the servants. You have never smiled at me.”

“Perhaps it is a coincidence?”

“It is not! Please tell me what I did wrong!”

“You have done nothing wrong.”

“I must have!”

“I do not know what you want me to say. Perhaps you would prefer that I lie and say you have?” Taehyung sounds irritable now, but he doesn’t stop walking and he doesn’t look back.

“I would prefer the truth,” Jungkook huffs. “How can you let your sister marry someone who you seem to despise? Are you so cold hearted that—“

Taehyung rounds on him, eyes burning. “Let us say for a moment that I do despise you,” he says in a deadly whisper, taking a step so close that it forces Jungkook to move backwards. “Do you really think accusing me of being heartless and hounding me as I make my way to bed will change my mind about you?”

Jungkook's back hits the wall and he finds himself gazing into Taehyung's eyes. They’re much too close. Taehyung isn’t moving. They’re both breathing hard. Jungkook’s mind empties of words even though he knows he’s supposed to be answering Taehyung’s question. He stares at Taehyung’s lips and it seems Taehyung stands there for an eternity, the animosity in his eyes fading little by little as they search Jungkook's.

He steps away from Jungkook hastily when footsteps echo from around the corner, and Jungkook finds himself breathless and alone in the dark.

From there I picture many more arguments and much more heavy breathing and getting a liiiitle bit too close. Jungkook doesn’t feel like he can let himself kiss taehyung because, 1. Tae is married, and 2. Jungkook is supposed to be marrying Tae's sister in about a month.

Taehyung is obviously treating Jungkook coldly because Taehyung finds him very attractive and he can’t be with him because he’s just arranged for his sister to marry Jungkook. Even though his sister has expressed multiple times that she doesn’t particularly want to marry Jungkook, Taehyung still can’t act on his feelings because the marriage is still taking place for political reasons. Taehyung has the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders and he’s drowning under the pressure a little bit. a lot.

This is what first brings him and Jungkook closer together, and begins to build a mutual understanding and friendship between them. Taehyung receives a message from back home with bad news—rebellions in his own kingdom, against a law he had put in place. He receives it during evening drinks and excuses himself to read it.

Jungkook excuses himself too because he’s nosy, and he finds Tae having a panic attack of sorts. And he really sees a different side of Taehyung that evening, a vulnerable side. Taehyung is barely a man and he doesn’t know how to rule a kingdom. He tells Jungkook everything he’s been struggling with in a hushed voice as they sit on one of the palace balconies.

“I have been trained for this my entire life, but no amount of training can truly prepare anyone. I only wish my father were not dead. He was not a good man, but if he were here then I would not have to do all of this.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Jungkook asks quietly.

Taehyung shrugs. “Because you found me out here. Because I have not told a soul any of my troubles since I was crowned king. Because I do not want you to think that I despise you. I would not have chosen you for my sister if I thought you were not a decent person, although I must admit, hearing rumours that you have a preference for men did make me hesitate in my decision.”

It's a bold thing to say. It catches Jungkook off guard. “I… I…”

“We all have our preferences,” Taehyung says, gazing at the palace gardens far below them. “I would not begrudge any man his. It is only that I would not want my sister to marry a man who could never love her.”

“My preference is for both men and women,” Jungkook admits. It's the first time he’s told anyone. Most likely the only time he ever will. It’s foolish to tell Taehyung, given that liking men is hardly smiled upon.

“So you will love my sister then?” Taehyung asks the question so earnestly that all Jungkook can do is nod. Of course he will. That is their arrangement. “I would like us to be friends,” Taehyung breathes. “Enough of this animosity between us.”

“I would like that too,” Jungkook says softly.

Their hands touch in the darkness and neither of them pull away, both pretending no touch is taking place.

“Friends it is then,” Taehyung says.

“Yes. Friends.”

But friendship does nothing to satiate his desire, which only seems to grow by the day. He keeps Taehyung’s secret, that he is floundering and has no idea what he is doing as his kingdom's new ruler, and Taehyung keeps his. Taehyung even confides in him that the only reason he and his sister came three months before the wedding was due to take place is because Taehyung just wanted to escape from being king for a little while. At least being away he can delegate most of the decisions to his advisors and can lounge and walk in the gardens.

Their first kiss happens in a feverish fumbling of hands and teeth and lips, in the dark of the gardens where they had decided to take an evening stroll after dinner. Jungkook had tried to offer to take Taehyung’s sister for a walk, but she had declined saying she was too tired, and Taehyung had volunteered in her stead. Jungkook isn’t quite sure how the kiss happens. One minute they’re laughing, the next he’s being pressed against the rough trunk of a tree, moaning softly into Taehyung's mouth.

They break apart abruptly, Jungkook shoving Taehyung back, both horrified.

“I am to marry your sister!” Jungkook hisses, fingers pressed to his lips. “You are married!”

“A mistake,” Taehyung breathes. “Too much wine. We were not thinking clearly.”

“We were not,” Jungkook says, smoothing his hair and rumpled shirt. He's burning all over. “Let us not… let us not speak of this again. It never happened.”

“What never happened?” Taehyung asks, too shakily to truly make the joke funny.

“Exactly. We are friends. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more.”

“Exactly.”

If only it were that easy. They part that night without exchanging another word, but when Jungkook goes to bed he can’t rid himself of the memory of Taehyung’s lips on his. And over the next few days he finds a question burning within him whenever he sees taehyung, but he’s too

burdened by guilt to ask it.

Then Taehyung leaves the palace. Two weeks to go until the wedding and apparently business is too urgent back at home for him to stay away another moment. He leaves his wife behind to ensure his sister’s comfort and safety.

Jungkook has resigned himself to his fate again until he’s walking in the gardens one day with Taehyung’s wife and she says quite plainly, “My husband has told me of what happened between you two beneath this tree.”

Jungkook is just gobsmacked. “Wh-what happened?”

“Oh, do not look so surprised. And do not deny it. He did not betray me by kissing you, if that is one of your concerns. His royal highness and I… we married out of convenience, not for love or lust. We have freedom within this marriage to be with whomever we wish.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says quietly.

“You will not have that freedom if you marry my sister-in-law,” she says. “I have seen the way you look at his royal highness. Our sister deserves better than a marriage with a man who cannot keep his eyes or his hands off of her brother.”

“I know she does,” Jungkook says. “but I… I simply cannot stop this wedding. I am doing it for my kingdom. I always have been. We do not marry for love. You of all people should know that.”

“I am aware of what this marriage is. and what my own marriage was,” she says mildly. “But if you go through with it I expect you to remain faithful to her and only her. There will be no exceptions. She dreams of true love and although she has no illusions about this marriage either, I would like for her to find happiness in it given time.”

“I promise you,” Jungkook says, although it breaks his heart. “I would never be unfaithful to her in our marriage. I truly believe she deserves happiness and I would do my best to give her that.”

“Good. Because if you fail I will gouge out your eyes and feed them to you. Understood?”

“Understood.”

And so Jungkook is right and royally screwed. The wedding is a week away and he cannot think of a way to get out of it. He cannot stop thinking of Taehyung. He cannot stop hoping that Taehyung will show up, his business in his own kingdom having been resolved in time to attend the wedding after all.

Two days before the wedding is to take place, there comes terrible news. It feels like a sick and twisted answer to all of Jungkook's prayers. There has been an assassination attempt on Taehyung’s life. Poison. Taehyung is dying. Or he may be dying. The doctors are searching frantically for a cure.

At this news Taehyung's sister comes to Jungkook, pleading with him to postpone the wedding, to allow her to travel home to see her brother. Jungkook of course agrees and says he’ll go with her too. For protection of course. Not because he is desperate to see Taehyung again in case he dies.

When they arrive at the palace in Taehyung’s kingdom and are escorted to Taehyung's bed chambers and finally see Taehyung, pale and unconscious in his bed, Jungkook cries. He finds himself torn between feel sick and needing to leave the room so he does not have to see Taehyung like this anymore and rushing to his bedside to tend to him. He leaves because he does not want anyone to see how affected he is by Taehyung’s sickness, but later that night he makes his way back to Taehyung’s chambers and sits with him.

When asked, the doctors tell Jungkook that Taehyung most likely has a week left. They have slowed the poison, but finding an antidote is proving impossible. He is simply getting worse.

They leave Jungkook alone and Jungkook sits for a long while and holds Taehyung’s hand as he sleeps. Around midnight, Taehyung stirs, waking just barely. Or waking only as much as he can in his state of delirium.

“It is you,” he breathes, lifting a weak hand to touch Jungkook's face. “I am dreaming.”

“You are not,” Jungkook says, smiling despite everything. “We came as soon as we heard.”

“I dreamed my sister was here also…”

“She is here. Asleep at the moment. In her own chambers.”

“But…” Taehyung coughs, a dry, hacking sound that shakes his body. “She cannot be here,” he says, faint at first, then insistently. “She cannot be here. It is not safe.”

“They caught the poisoner. She is quite safe. Relax. Everything will be alright.”

He pushes Taehyung down gently and there is so little strength left in Taehyung’s body that he slumps the few inches he’s managed to raise himself, turning his face into his pillow.

Jungkook dabs his forehead with a damp cloth left by the doctors. “You will be alright.”

Tears wet Taehyung's cheeks. “I deserved this. I am no good at being king. I only hope my wife will be a better one when I am gone.”

“You are not going to die,” Jungkook says firmly. “We will find a cure.” He refuses to accept that Taehyung will be gone. “I have sent for the finest healers in my kingdom.”

Taehyung's eyes begin to close. “That is good,” he murmurs. “Stay with me until they come. I would hate to be alone.”

“I will. Have some water before you sleep.”

Taehyung grimaces. “I only feel sicker when I do.”

Jungkook lets Taehyung sleep. After a moment's thought he finds himself inspecting the jug of water and the plate of half eaten food at Taehyung's bedside.

He calls in the doctors. “Bring me the queen.”

“She is asleep, your royal highness. it would not be—“

“Bring her to me.”

“Is his majesty’s health—“

“No. He is the same. I merely require a word with her.”

“Then perhaps you should wait until mor—“

“Am I or am I not a prince engaged to marry his majesty’s sister, the princess? Do as I say at once!”

Five minutes later Taehyung’s wife walks into the room, followed by the doctors. but she dismisses them with a wave of her hand when she sees Jungkook's face.

“What is it?”

“Who do you trust in this palace?” Jungkook asks. “Who do you truly trust?”

“My lady’s maid,” she answers.

“The one who came with you on your visit to my kingdom?”

“Yes.”

“She can cook, I presume?”

“Of course she can.”

“I think we should have her prepare his majesty’s meals from now on. Her and only her. No one else shall handle it. Nor his drink.”

“Very well,” she says. She doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t have to. “What of the doctors?”

“Do you trust them?”

“They have been at the palace for several years.”

“But do you trust them?”

“I shall find new doctors tomorrow. Are you planning to stay here all night?”

“For his protection, yes.”

“Thank you,” she says gratefully. “One day you will make a good king. Taehyung has never been particularly good in a crisis.”

The next few days pass by sluggishly. Taehyung sleeps mostly, waking only for brief intervals to sip water and choke down a little food. The healer Jungkook has summoned arrives and begins treating Taehyung. and it is a relief to everyone. Jungkook’s kingdom is famed for its healers, its advances in medicine.

Taehyung is still dropping in and out of delirium a day later however, when he wakes for a little while. Jungkook and the princess sit with him, but Taehyung scarcely seems to know his sister is present. He’s mumbling incoherently, seeming to be half dreaming.

Then, looking towards Jungkook, he says, “It was a mistake I would make a thousand times over. I hate myself for it, but I cannot regret it either. To kiss you… I… I still smell the grass and the tree and feel your hands… You haunt me…” His words fade, his eyelids drooping.

Jungkook tries to laugh it off. “I wonder who he thought he was seeing.” But he feels shaken to his very core because haunted is exactly how he feels by Taehyung too.

“Not his wife, that is certain,” the princess says faintly, but she sounds far away.

Later, Taehyung's wife tells them both to go out and get some fresh air. She will watch over Taehyung for the afternoon. So Jungkook walks with the princess through the palace gardens.

“My brother is quite smitten with you, isn’t he?” the princess asks mildly. “He saw no one but you when he said those words.”

Jungkook almost laughs. “I do not think he is smitten with me.” Taehyung had been delirious. Taehyung had left. Taehyung had said their kiss was a mistake. “I assure you I am not… I do not…”

“You kissed him then?” she asks, ignoring his protests.

Jungkook nods once. He cannot lie any longer. to lie would not conceal the truth from her. she knows already. “Once. Never again. It was a mistake. We both agreed it.”

She nods, gazing out towards the high hedges of the maze at the end of the garden. “I should have known. You have shown so little true interest in me. I had expected us to share a kiss or two, but now I realise…”

“I cannot begin to apolo—“

“Do not bother. I never really wanted to marry you anyway. You never really wanted to marry me either. When I met you, though, I thought you would make a husband I could be happy with. You are kind and sweet. now i see that that can never happen.”

“Wait, we must—this marriage is bigger than both of us. It is for our kingdoms. I cannot not marry you.”

She looks at him levelly, eyes unreadable as Taehyung’s had once been whenever he looked at Jungkook. “This marriage is for your kingdom, not mine. I can walk away whenever I want. It is you who needs me. Perhaps you should have thought of how important it was before you decided to act so recklessly. Be with my brother if you wish to, but neither you nor he will force me into a marriage like this. If my brother’s feelings for you are true, you will not need a marriage to protect your kingdom. If they are not true then…” She shrugs and walks away. “I suppose I will receive news of your kingdom being overthrown soon enough.”

Jungkook avoids everyone for several days after that encounter. He considers going home, but to go back to his parents and tell them what a mess he’s made is impossible. He has to fix this somehow. If only he can bring himself to go to Taehyung’s chambers. But he is afraid of what Taehyung will tell him and he is ashamed of how he has treated Taehyung's sister, so he spends his days in the chambers he has been given to sleep in and walks in the gardens. Servants bring him news of Taehyung’s improving condition from time to time.

Until one day he rounds a corner in the garden to find Taehyung standing before him, looking pale and fragile, but out of bed for the first time in weeks.

“Y-your majesty…”

Taehyung smiles at him tentatively. “I was told I would find you out here.”

“Has the princess—“

“She has told me everything,” Taehyung says.

“Will you walk with me then?” Jungkook asks in a strangled voice. “I must explain everything. I must beg… I must… I…”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I am afraid I am not quite up to walking. If you will sit with me instead I would be grateful.”

“Of course. Anything you wish.”

They sit side by side on a stone bench and Jungkook wastes no time in beginning to speak. “I beg of you to not forsake my kingdom now that this marriage has fallen to pieces. My kingdom does not—I have a duty and I cannot let my kingdom be destroyed if there is a war. You are our only hope. I know we have so little to offer, but—“

Taehyung holds up a hand. “My sister spoke rashly the other day. Understandably. We have caused her great hurt. I do need your kingdom—your healers have knowledge and herbs that are hard to come by here, and if a war did break out your kingdom gives us an invaluable advantage due to its location. I am willing to form an alliance without marriage, so do not worry over your people’s safety. You saved my life. I owe you everything.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” Jungkook says, blinking hard. “I cannot… i… you owe me nothing. I cannot thank you enough.”

Taehyung shakes his head as if to say it's nothing. “I have been informed by my wife that she told you of our arrangement, the freedom we have in our marriage.”

Jungkook's heart begins to thrum. “Yes. She did.”

“I have also been informed of what I said while I was sick. And I want you to know I meant every word. You have haunted me since I first laid eyes on you. At first, I thought I could push you away, that I could push my desire for you away. But it did not work. And then we became friends and I found my desire only became stronger. It was a desire not only for your body, but for who you are inside. Our kiss has haunted me in every sleeping and waking moment since it happened. Every time you look at me. every time you touch me, even if it is the slightest brush of your skin against mine. I left because I was afraid I would not be able to contain myself. And with your permission, if you feel as haunted as I do, I should like to stop containing myself now.”

“You have my permission,” Jungkook breathes.

Their kiss is deep, but Jungkook finds himself holding the king carefully, not at all like the frantic nights he has pictured happening between them. Their corner of the garden is concealed, so they do not worry as they undress each other and Jungkook lays Taehyung down in the grass. It pains him to see the angles of Taehyung’s bones, the aftermath of Taehyung’s poisoning, and how little food he has been able to eat. So he kisses Taehyung’s body softly. They move together, the rich scent of grass and earth and summer blossoms all about them. And when they can contain themselves no longer, when kissing is too difficult and the peace of the summer's day is punctuated by soft noises they cannot hold back, they still, their foreheads pressed together, Taehyung’s hands in Jungkook's hair. Chests heaving, they lay together in the grass, basking in the remnants of the waves of pleasure that have washed over them.

“I think that will haunt me for a very long time,” Jungkook murmurs at last.

Taehyung smiles widely. “Perhaps we can avoid any future hauntings?”

“I would like that,” Jungkook says, kissing him softly.

“There is plenty of space in my bed chambers for another, if you would like to stay here permanently to conduct the necessary negotiations between our two kingdoms,” Taehyung mumbles.

“Those negotiations are very necessary,” Jungkook agrees, kissing Taehyung’s jaw.

“Exactly.”

#jemshopesprompts #bts #bts fanfic #bts aus #taehyung x jungkook #taekook #taekook au #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #mutual pining #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #angst #hurt/comfort

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luumiinaa · 2 years ago

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come delve into one of the first hybrid stories i’ve ever read here 👏🏼💗 come read this chaotic classic of bonds being forged from unconditional love and care for others.

A Place Called Home (Series Masterlist)

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 11.5 (FLASHBACK)

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

EPILOGUE

Drabble List

#✧.ᐟ jupiter #★.ᐟ mars #fic: story #fic: series #bts #seokjin #suga #jhope #rm #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #supernatural au #hybrid au #established relationship #strangers to lovers #mutual pining #slow burn #roommates au

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ggukivrse · 2 months ago

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THE ART OF PRETENDING - JJK | masterlist

summary. when you and jungkook show up to your much anticipated graduation trip and realise neither of you had the guts to tell your friends about your recent break up, there’s only one thing you can do to keep the trip from falling apart: pretend.

but somewhere between fake kisses and real feelings, you start to wonder if letting go was ever the right choice at all.

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings: exes to lovers, fake dating, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, (eventual) explicit sexual content, swearing, alcohol consumption, ft. seokjin, namjoon, hoseok, jimin, taehyung, yoongi + four female ocs, other chapter specific tags

current word count: 20.5k

status: ONGOING

→ cross posted to wattpad

masterlist | playlist | moodboard | visualiser | taglist — open

chapters ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ 00 — teaser (1k)

⤷ 01 — the way things go (4.9k)

⤷ 02 — broken cd (4.9k)

⤷ 03 — ivy (5.5k)

⤷ 04 — halley’s comet (5.2k)

more chapters coming soon…

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lo1k-diamonds · 11 months ago

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A woman's best friend 💜

PAIRING: Taehyung x (f)reader

SUMMARY: When you met, you and Taehyung hit it off instantly, becoming the closest of friends. You thought he was off-limits. Meanwhile, he’s been begging for a chance to put an end to your friendship.

WORD COUNT: 7,004

GENRE: friends to ?, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: mutual pining, dirty talk, body worship, nipple play, oral (both), rough, sweet, bittersweet, mentions of alcohol, talks about Tae's sexuality

A.N. I heard Fri(end)s and had the idea for this fic... I love this song sooooo much 💜 Thanks to @downbad4yoongi for the beta read! Thank you to @eerieedits for the awesome banner 💜 Edited as I prepare a part 2 😋

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs | AO3 | Wattpad

“Fuck, what I wouldn't give for cock right now.”

Your voice came out in a low groan right before you brought your cold beer bottle to your lips to take a few swigs. The TV was blaring a new episode of Physical:100, and you understood everyone’s obsession with Amotti’s body. For you, it was the lack of sex mixed with alcohol, hormones, and being exposed to hot guys on the TV on a Saturday night. Well, and in real life.

You looked at Taehyung out of the corner of your eye. He had taken off his black leather jacket, but his tight white shirt accentuated his chest and wide shoulders. His dark eyes had jumped to yours at your words, but he was drinking his beer and didn’t stop. He was very handsome, something you noticed the moment you met him during photography class when he asked you for help with a project. Your heart had fluttered hard but had since calmed down — he didn’t look at you that way. He was there to admire Amotti’s abs with you.

At least you had a friend to share these debaucheries with.

“I mean,” he voiced as soon as his lips were free. “I have one right here.”

You threw your head back, laughing, “I know.” You made sure to tap his chest playfully before reaching for another cherry in a bowl on the coffee table, pulling it from the stem between your teeth. “But you know…”

He was looking at you with his usual nonchalance, with legs spread, beer in his hand, and completely relaxed into your couch, but his eyebrow twitched.

So you nodded, “Alright, let me put it better.” You suddenly realized you could be offending him somehow: it was not because a person with a cock was present that they would want to have anything to do with you. So you corrected yourself, “What I’d give for a good fucking.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding, and you smiled, turning to the TV again. You were happy your friendship was like this; you were used to talking about who you were attracted to and helping each other out, and you could openly comment on your thirst. It was perfect.

“Still applies.”

You turned to look at him so quickly that you almost got whiplash. Your eyes were wide, and your mouth blabbered before you could think, “What? But I helped you get it on with what’s his name a few months back.”

Your head was spinning; you were so confused. That night out had been the proverbial nail in the coffin of your secretly harbored hope.

“Yeah, so?” His voice was monotone at best. “I’m pansexual.”

Your eyes widened comically as your cheeks flushed red. “Oh… I… I…”

“Assumed?” He raised an eyebrow again, and you were flustered but still noticed him fidgeting, with his knee jumping repeatedly.

“Well… Yeah, kind of,” you admitted, with shame forcing your eyes down. Amotti showed on the TV again, and you glanced. “You only ever talk about guys in front of me.”

You knew it before it was out of your mouth that it was a lame excuse, and he did too because he scoffed, “Yeah, well. What else do you want to talk about?”

“That’s not fair,” you complained, frowning with embarrassment burning your chest.

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in hearing my thoughts on women.”

He was looking away now, and you could hear a tinge of bitterness, and it pricked your heart.

“Tae, that’s not true,” you insisted, reaching to put a hand on his arm so he’d look at you. Was that resentment? It hurt you deeply. “I want to hear your thoughts about everything,” you admitted with a shy smile, and his eyes softened. “And I wish we could talk about anything. I mean, look at what I just said.”

His lips twitched before he reached to catch your hand in his. He couldn’t see you sad, especially not about something like this. It could be that you had the wrong impression because he never bothered clarifying, and that was on him, too. The reason he was deeper in his feelings for you than he had ever been with anyone else was you saying things like those and treating him like that. It was the reason he had canceled his weekend plans to be with you last minute, it was why he wanted to hold your hand, and at long last, why he was done being just friends with you.

“Fair. You’re right,” he relented, turning on the couch to you more comfortably. “Sorry, that’s not why.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you braved through it. “Why, then? Why haven’t we ever discussed this before?”

It would have been so easy to deflect or act offended about his sexuality even being a topic of conversation, but he wasn’t doing that. He was putting the cards on the table tonight.

“I thought… You were so open-minded and welcomed me to join your friends and… I thought that if you knew, you’d treat me differently. Like just any other guy, and then we wouldn’t have become friends.”

“Tae…” You shook your head lightly, disappointment pulling the corners of your lips. He thought that of you?

“I also needed your help with that midterm project, so it was a life-or-death situation.”

He said it sheepishly, caressing your hand in his, and you chuckled, “That was so long ago.”

He nodded, lowering his eyes to your hands, and you kept a sigh from coming out. Maybe you were wrong to presume, but it was easily done when he blended in so easily with your group of girlfriends. Not because he wasn’t manly, but because he acted with grace and care and had no qualms holding your hand or showing affection when most guys wouldn’t be caught dead doing that to a friend.

You nodded. “I thought we became friends…”

“We did,” he agreed, though his voice was an octave lower.

“So can, or can I not, say I’m craving a good fucking?” You squeezed his hand with a grin on your face before bringing your beer to your lips again. You didn’t care about his sexuality, and you’d been friends for so long that you couldn’t read more into his actions, even if you wanted to delude yourself.

You had hoped to lighten the mood and get back on topic, and you did. Sort of.

“You can always say it,” he mused, eying you with a darker look in his eyes once they locked with yours. “The question is: do you want to do something about it?”

“What can I do about it?” you asked with amusement before taking another swig.

“Fuck me.”

You would have choked if you hadn’t already swallowed. Instead, you gaped at him with eyes like a deer caught in headlights. “What?”

“I’m down if that’s what you want.”

You blinked for a second, taking in his casual demeanor as he sat on your couch, totally chill. Then you grabbed a pillow and swatted him right across the face.

He jumped in place, checking if he hadn’t spilled anything over the couch or himself. “What?!”

“What what?” you asked, pulling the pillow and throwing it away on the floor so he’d check on himself comfortably.

“What was that for?!”

“I’m being serious, and you’re messing around!”

You couldn’t help your blushing cheeks, but you could keep things casual by taking a bit of inspiration from him.

You just didn’t expect him to fidget in his spot with a pout, “I’m not messing around, I’m serious.”

You grimaced, shaking your head in disbelief, not even able to contemplate such an outlandish thought.

But he stayed put looking at you, as laid-back as always, and you sobered up a little. That was him being serious.

“You… You’d—” You swallowed, annoyed by your hesitation. “You’d fuck me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His reply was instantaneous, and he bit the inside of his bottom lip. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Or better yet, said it like that. It wasn’t like that was all he wanted to do. It wasn’t like he was proposing a one-night stand, for you to become fuck buddies, or— What was he even suggesting?

“Well,” you spoke up before he could chastise himself internally. He could only look at you with bated breath. “Even if you’re into women, I never thought you’d… be into me.”

It could have made his head spin, but instead, he sat more upright and frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m not all fit and pretty and shit.”

You were mumbling with your eyes on the floor, and he had to keep himself from scoffing. “Are you serious? There is nothing wrong with how you look.”

“No, just—” You glanced at him and instantly knew you wouldn’t be able to explain it properly. Or, better yet, that he’d never let you have your way. So instead, you huffed and rubbed your face, “Ugh, but… you always see me bare-faced and—”

“Fuck if that matters.” He shook his head, more irritated than you thought he’d be. “You know damn well none of that matters. You look good without makeup, your curves are crazy, and you have other attributes that top it all off.”

You couldn’t help laughing and pulling your legs under you as you got more comfy. The action got you closer to him, but you didn’t mind that. You were pretty convinced he was just messing around. “Like what? My wonderful personality?”

He smiled; he liked seeing you laughing and even more that you were leaning into him, with your arms and his pressed together. “I was going to say a significant chest size, but your personality is wonderful.” You burst out laughing, hiding in his shoulder, and although he liked you being relaxed and touchy with him, he wanted you to truly hear it. “I mean that.”

“Yeah, right!” You managed to say, still laughing. “Did we drink too much?”

You were grinning and shook your nearly empty bottle before putting it on the coffee table. You sat back, still leaning into him, and saw worry on his face for the first time. “Have you? If you have, then this conversation stops here.”

“I only had one bottle…”

“Me too.”

He raised it as if to imply it was that one and took it to his lips to finish it in one go. The gesture gave you a time-off from his gaze and allowed you to try to process what you two were talking about. You knew him well enough to gather he wasn’t pranking you, but you were unsure where that landed the two of you. You couldn’t possibly reevaluate your interactions, talks, and bond under this new light. That wouldn’t be justified, and regardless, you wanted his friendship. You wanted him in your life, by your side, being a part of everything, while you made sure to be a part of his everything.

He leaned to put his empty bottle next to yours before sitting back, “Would you fuck me?”

His tone was neutral, and suddenly, your stomach lurched. Fucking wasn’t the word on the top of your head, but that wasn’t what you two were talking about.

You scoffed. “I’m not fucking blind.”

“What does that matter? I’m asking you seriously.”

His gaze had all the certainty someone as handsome and amazing as he could have. Your instinct was to cover your face before your feelings could be easily read and groan, “Ughhh.”

“What?” He sat closer, facing you, though your legs were already touching.

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?”

“Ughhhh!”

“Yes or no, come on!”

“Ughhhh!”

You couldn’t see how frustrated he was becoming. Why were you groaning into your palms instead of answering his very important question?

He called your name, you groaned, and he almost tried ripping your hands away. Instead, he brushed your arms. “Speak! Come on, use words! Why don’t you just say it? Yes or no? Must be a no if you’re—”

“Shut up!!” You exploded, revealing your wide, glistening eyes and pink cheeks. He was surprised. “Why?? Because it could ruin our friendship!”

“Saying if you’d fuck me or not will not ruin our friendship, even if it’s a no.”

Your face scrunched up in a mix between a plea and worry, but your lips remained sealed. He let his head fall back with a sigh, then faced you again.

“You know what might?” He paused, waiting for you to raise your eyes to him. That was all he needed to spill it out, “Saying that I want to give you the fucking you’re craving.”

You clenched around nothing, with a burn spreading down your chest. You couldn’t even blink away from his stare, locked as you were. Instead, you swallowed, and he continued as if spurred by your silence.

“Fuck you into a slobbering mess, and right now, I can think of like five different ways of doing it.”

You blinked, and that was the extent of your capabilities. He raked his fingers through his dark hair, and your only thought was how easy that would have been — you, a drooling mess in whatever one of those five ways. You only needed one, and it didn’t even need to be that complicated. He could start with his fingers in your mouth and—

“Starting by taking that stupid bra off and licking your n—”

You squealed and reached to cover his mouth with your hand. Your cheeks burned; thinking it and saying it were two very different things!

He grabbed your wrist and pulled it away, uncovering his mouth but choosing silence. And you realized that saying something could only make it worse. You had gotten on your knees and were almost straddling him at this point. He had stayed put and, funnily enough, your deep breaths were raising and lowering your chest closer to him. He seemed to notice this too because his eyes roamed over your legs, your shorts, your white top, your chest, your neck, and finally made it to your eyes. You didn’t just watch him attentively observing you, you felt it in the tingles tracing you under his gaze, as though you needed to feel him somehow.

The tension was climbing up your spine, reminding you to move your neck just a little to release it, making your long hair fall over your chest instead. The simple motion was enough to draw his eyes and tighten your nipples, and your underwear clung further to you.

His eyes on yours had you shuddering, and his thumb rubbing the skin on your wrist only amplified it. “Just say the word. If that’s what you want, just say the word.”

The last drop was his velvety voice. That wonderful, trust-inducing, hypnotizing, delicious voice that you’d follow to the end of the world.

You were already nodding, and you still managed to hoarsely voice, “Yes.”

His eyes read your lips, but he didn’t move, and you faltered. You were unaware of how you were leaning into him, eyes fixed on his lips, absolutely bewitched. At that moment, all your hesitation melted away as you licked your lips. You were not beyond asking for a taste when he shortened the distance between you in the blink of an eye, making you gasp.

His big, warm hand instantly reached your jaw, supporting your head gently. His lips grazing yours with the utmost softness were what convinced you to close your eyes. Screw the shock trying to freeze you and steal this opportunity from you. You pressed his lips harder, removing any hesitation from what you were doing — you wanted this.

You wanted Taehyung’s kiss. You wanted to feed your curiosity, give sense to the fantasies sprouting in your head when you were lonely and heated, and learn what that forbidden fruit tasted like.

Truthfully, you thought your lips were the only way to feel and taste him because, at any moment, it would all end. But as he kissed you back, matching your eager curiosity, you sighed. You succumbed to grabbing his dark hair in your fists, breathing in shakily when his hands framed your waist without an ounce of reluctance. You kept fearing you were acting crazy, that he would push you back and laugh this off as being drunk. It was why you couldn’t stop pressing him closer, sighing into his mouth every time his hands moved on your curves, licking against his tongue when it dared teasing you, and nibbling his bottom lip whenever he dared to stray.

You hardly noticed when he moved on the couch because his lips never left yours. And whether he’d pull you to his lap or lay you under him, it mattered little as long as he didn’t stop. All he did was kneel on the couch in front of you, kissing you harder. His fingertips touched the skin just beneath the hem of your top, and you brought them further up your sides under the fabric. You were breathing heavily just at the feel of his wide hands exploring the expanse of your stomach, but when he reached your bra, your breath hitched. His words were still burning inside you, making you clench at the thought.

You opened your eyes and found him looking at you, puffy lips bruising yours as he sneaked his fingertips under the bra, digging gently into the supple skin. His tongue peeked, licking your lips slowly in a tease as his thumbs brushed your hard nipples over the fabric, and you groaned.

You didn’t care anymore; you were irrational. Yes, you had covered his mouth out of embarrassment before — the embarrassment of how much you wanted him to do what he was saying, and now he would. You were a train about to derail, and nothing could stop you.

His dark eyes were still locked with yours as you squirmed to unclasp your bra at your back, trying to get rid of it. As soon as you did and the fabric no longer protected you, he leaned down and licked through your white top, finding a nipple all too easily. You squirmed but pressed his head to your chest, ignoring the bra almost around your neck, looking to feel exactly what he wanted to do to you.

He, on the other hand, found the bra obstructing the view of your face contorting in pleasure annoying and got rid of it quickly by passing one of the strips down your arm. You were so immersed in gripping his hair and feeling him lick and pinch your nipples that you didn’t even notice. Only when he caught your lips again, grabbing and squeezing both breasts hungrily, did you notice there was no bra anymore, only your moan inside his mouth. He was devouring your whimpers, drinking every sigh as you enjoyed his hands on you, unable to hide it.

His lips trailed down your jaw and neck, and you squirmed, disliking what you thought was a growing distance between you two. Instead, it made you realize that he had kneeled on the floor in front of you and that his hands were squeezing your sides before dragging your top up. His open-mouth kisses between your breasts gave you goosebumps, making you eager to roll your hips against him, but it was when his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed them to his face that you moaned, melting between your legs.

“Tae,” you breathed a moan, half in wonder, half in a plea. You wanted him to have you like you never wanted anything else before.

His name on your lips wantonly like that made his dark eyes flick to yours in what you believed was a line being crossed. He pulled the top above your head, parting from your chest only the time needed for this, before finally licking and biting your nipples, squeezing and groping whatever his mouth couldn’t catch. Your moans were shooting pure desire through his veins, especially as you let your head fall back to enjoy. Your nails were holding onto his shirt by his shoulders, not trying to stop him as he traced your hips and played with the hem of your shorts, but quite simply letting his mouth work you up.

You squirmed beneath him to let him drag your clothes off and barely contained a squeal at his mouth trailing lower. You were feverish, wet, hot, absolutely derailed not just with the view but with the anticipation. This was why you almost keened when, feeling him kiss your legs down to your knees, you looked down. Your panties were still on, and he was pecking your skin, feeling the smoothness of your legs with his hands before stopping. His eyes fixed on yours, glistening with just as much desire, but then his eyebrows twitched.

You were already exposed, winded, flushed, dazed, and there was only one thing you wanted. “Are you going to eat me out?”

“If you let me.”

“Please,” you breathed, raising your knees to your chest in an offering.

The corners of his mouth curved as though you had promised him candy, and he didn’t hesitate to lean in. His nose rubbed at your clothed center, and just him breathing deeply before nuzzling the skin around your panties made you hold in a shaky sigh. You would fall apart so easily if he kept teasing you like that. Your legs were trembling, you could barely take in enough oxygen, and then he pressed his lips to you. A quiet groan stayed inside your chest as though the very sound could distract you from his kiss. It was both breathtaking and short of a tease to feel him pressing, grazing his lips across your covered slit, nuzzling your core to maddening effects. You couldn’t help your squirm or your hand shooting to his head with your request, and he obliged.

As though he was done with waiting, the same as you, he pulled the fabric aside and dove in. His groan was subtle, covering you with goosebumps right before you lost all sense and fell back. You didn’t know if it was the anticipation, the fantasy becoming reality, or the sheer hunger, but it floored you. His hands pressed your legs harder, almost as if he couldn’t let you get away, and he groaned. You felt it deep inside you, right as his tongue collected your slick on his way to your clit. He licked over it in waves, driving you to squeeze your eyes shut, barely afloat. You bucked your hips to increase the friction, and he pressed his face harder, letting you feel the tip of his nose, tongue, and lips in open-mouthed kisses.

But whenever you thought the searing burn would snap your coil and you would peak, he drew back. You didn’t realize your push and pull, lulling yourself to his rhythm, until a louder whimper of yours drew him to cup your ass and raise you to his mouth. He latched on, keeping a steel rhythm on your clit that was impossible to deny, regardless of how much you tried to writhe and keen. Your core burned with how tense you were, a sensation so consuming that you stopped breathing. You wanted the moment it sparked and covered you ablaze, and it did.

You melted from that point on, trembling and moaning so hard that you lost touch as you came. Taehyung’s mouth was latched to your core, lavishly mouthing you as you wiggled and squirmed, grabbing onto his hair so crudely, it probably hurt him. Yet he groaned, sucked and breathed you in, and you wanted it even harder. Your peak dissolved despite your wishes, and although you had to pull him away so he wouldn’t hurt you, the vision that met you was shattering.

The sight of him covered in your cum was like nothing you had imagined, quite simply because it was real. He was really kneeling between your legs, kissing your inner thighs, with his hair tucked in your grasp. Your legs were still trembling as you panted, and you wanted only to relax into the pillows with your much-sought release. Yet in an instant, you realized that was not what you wanted after all.

You pulled him to you as you lowered your legs to give him space, wrapping them around his waist. He let you, almost caught off balance, but you left no margin for errors. You grabbed onto his shirt for good measure and crashed his mouth to yours, kissing him with as much hunger as you could muster in your dazed, satisfied haze. You didn’t want to leave it there, and if licking your cum out of his mouth didn’t convey this, then you didn’t know what did.

Taehyung kissed you back, smiling almost tenderly before scrunching up his nose at your tongue tickling him. Yet, despite your glued cores, he wasn’t trying anything else. He wasn’t pushing or exploring you anymore, and you would have cowered if it wasn’t for the bulge pressed to you.

You rolled over him, getting him to sit on the couch before pulling away to kneel between his legs. No way he could eat you like that if he didn’t like it or was turned on, and you weren’t over your curiosity. You wouldn’t stop until you had hit all stops.

“I always wondered,” you started, reaching your hands inside his shirt so you could scratch down his chest. “What it would be like for you to touch me.” You licked your lips as he smiled. “To touch you,” you mused, reaching his flat stomach. “For you to want me.” Your hands cupped the bulge in his pants, and you shuddered at the harness twitching back. “Like I want you.”

You were brimming with desire and knew he was, too, when he reached to grab your hair and crash your mouths together. To your surprise, he didn’t pull or push you in one direction or the other; it was as though he simply wanted to kiss you. If anything, he only hardened under your hand.

You couldn’t think about what that meant, only that you wanted to continue and fulfill all your dreams tonight. You unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, and he helped you get them and the boxers off. Your chin almost fell in awe at the imposing cock before you, so hard and stiff it was pointing at you. So close to your face, it could only have been an invitation.

You touched it tentatively, feeling the soft, warm skin covering lengthy veins from base to top. Its puffy pink tip was the perfect size for you to lick, and you did. There was usually an order to these things, but not tonight. He looked pretty and hungry, and you wanted to eat him too.

Your tongue only took a taste before you sank your mouth on him. There was no way you could take him whole, as he was already poking the back of your throat, but it didn’t matter. You were there for the experience, for his taste, for that fucked out look on his face as he closed his eyes and let his jaw slack. Taehyung was fucking gorgeous, like the peak of human perfection, and it turned out it was even better when his cock was stuffing your mouth.

You couldn’t stop yourself. Your plans escaped your mind; all that mattered was bobbing your head, lapping your tongue, sucking him, and doing all that with your eyes fixed on his expression. It was the sweetest part of all — he liked it. He was breathing heavily, biting his bottom lip, blushing, and finally fluttering his eyes open. They were like candy; all his strength and power surrendered to your mouth, and you drooled. You finally closed your eyes and let your head fall as deep as you could take him, just to keep him there while you braced yourself for what you wanted.

You pulled away, letting him breathe a groan before facing him. “Said you’d fuck me.”

He blinked, almost stupefied, and you got up from your knees. You moved swiftly to the hallway to search his jacket for what you were looking for, and when you turned around, you almost stumbled.

Physical: 100 was still on the TV with the contestants showing off their physique, and yet they didn’t even come close to that view. Taehyung was tall, towering over your entire living room as he stood there, naked, hard, with dark, glistening eyes set on you. Not even his disheveled hair or the pants at the bottom of his feet made him look any less heavenly. That view was perfect, and you didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it.

Instead, you waved the condom you had just found, and he nodded, getting rid of the clothes by his ankles in the time it took you to reach him. The moment your hands were cupping his cheeks, he was already pulling you by the waist, eager to hold you and kiss you. He didn't hesitate to feel your curves, reaching your ass to pull you to him, and you molded yourself to him, arching your back into him.

You were dizzy with his attention, with his big hand squeezing your ass while the other gripped your hair to keep you in his kiss. But when he meant to sit down, you pulled him to stay put. You grinned, giving him the condom, then got on the couch on all fours.

You didn't see his surprise, only felt a soothing hand on your ass down your leg. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please,” you sighed.

It wasn't much of a logical thought, but the idea was to have him in as many positions as you had fantasized. You doubted you'd get far — as soon as he was inside you, all ideas would evaporate — but doggy was good to start. You wanted him raw and deep, reaching places inside you no one could. Of course, you couldn’t have him raw, but if he fucked you without holding back, you'd already consider that a win.

Taehyung got on one knee on the couch behind you after covering himself and eyed you. You were vulnerable like that, with your unblemished back arching and long hair falling over your shoulders. He’d like you in any position, but he couldn’t help pursing his lips. He touched your soft skin again, and you wiggled your ass for him, and although he bit it playfully just to make you jump and chuckle, he still second-guessed it.

It felt impersonal. In all of his dreams of you, he rarely pictured being with you like this without at least a mirror so he could see you, so you two could communicate. He wanted to be with you, to feel and watch you writhe in pleasure, in the ways he could make you feel, not to turn your face away so he could use you. If anything, your face was what made it special.

You wiggled your ass again with an impatient sigh, and this time you pleaded, “Please, Tae.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw his expression softening before he got behind you. The feel of his cock brushing your folds had you shaking, but it was his nails scratching down your spine that did it. You fell back on him, unwilling to wait for him, and he let you, groaning. He helped your hips as you wiggled and searched to get him deeper, and as you did, you both sighed.

You could feel him stretching you despite your previous orgasm, and you smiled. In another circumstance, you’d just enjoy the show without thinking much of it, but just the fact that it was Taehyung turned you on again. And when he started moving, he delivered.

It wasn’t just his hips smacking yours, the crown of his cock teasing your cervix and making you groan and curl your nails on the couch armrest. It was the way he held your waist, leaned over you to peck over your spine, and responded to every reaction of yours. You mewled and tried fucking into him? He fucked you harder, adjusting the angle so you’d keen mindlessly. You moaned and hid in the pillows, feeling so tense you didn’t know your name? He reeled back, slowing down his thrusts to let you breathe. You whimpered and called his name? He was instantly all over you, kissing your neck near your ear, asking if you were okay without ever stopping giving you what you wanted.

You looked over your shoulder, meeting his eyes as he kissed your skin there, and you thought that was impossible. You knew Taehyung was attentive, but that bordered on perfection, and you didn't know how to deal with that.

“Harder,” you whispered, glistening eyes boring into his.

“Are you sure?”

You grinned. “Said you’d leave me a slobbering mess.”

“You sure look like it,” he teased, and you laughed. You knew you were drooling onto the couch, but you also knew he was holding back.

“Give everything to me.” You sighed, and your lightness earned you a nod.

The second he pulled away, you wondered if you knew what you asked for, and the second he showed you, you knew you did. He grabbed your hair in a fist to keep your back arched, and your mind melted. The way he rutted into you, holding your waist so you’d stay in position to take every thrust, only made you whimper and moan louder. He felt so good it was unbearable; how did he reach deeper and harder when you thought you were at your limit? His groans, his scent, his nails piercing your skin to hold you in place; you could barely function in the frenzy.

You knew you were tightening because his focus was faltering, but when he stopped, staying buried deep inside you, you were worried.

“Tae?” you asked, trying to swallow the dizziness and figure out why that stairway to heaven had suddenly halted.

“I can’t—” His voice was a whisper as he tried regaining his breath. “I’ll cum.”

Your eyebrows jumped, and you almost smiled, but you bit your lip to keep it in. “How’s that?”

He was still squishing your flesh in his hands, but he took one hand to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes, “You’re so tight and warm and—” You clenched involuntarily, and he grabbed and squeezed your ass again. “You fucking tease.”

You stifled a laugh and could swear he’d spank you, but instead, he leaned over you and bit your shoulder. You finally laughed. “Let me ride you.”

He hummed, and instead of answering, he let you take the brunt of his weight as he held your hips. You groaned with the effort, still shuddering at his lips tracing your cheeks to your neck, but then you moaned lavishly. He was pressing himself slowly to you, reaching inside you and twitching, and you thought you’d be too desensitized, but it was the opposite. Your core hugged him, sucking him in with the subtle rolls of your hips, and he groaned into your ear, making you flutter even harder. It was as though he couldn’t help himself, ensuing that small push and pull, enough to get you both crazy.

But you insisted, “Tae.”

And he was off of you in a second. He sat down and helped you turn around and straddle him. You were flushed and covered in sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were so wet you were sliding, and he guided your hips as you grabbed his cock. Just looking at him beneath you, you knew it would feel amazing, but something about staring into his eyes as you sank on him rewired your priorities. Instead of looking to give a show or tease him, you let your chin drop the same as his and reached to hold his head in place. Your nails grazed his skin as you gripped his hair by the back of the nape and rolled your lips to feel him inside you as deeply as possible. His eyebrows knitted as he looked down, and you burned under his gaze, wanting nothing more than for him to feel as good as you did. And by the way that his fingers were digging into your hips and his droopy eyes came back to yours, you knew he did. You knew that every jerk of your hips stole his breath, too, squeezed his tip in your smooth walls, and ground on him in a way that made you hover even though you were sinking.

Your fingers curled around his hair. “I can’t hold— I’ll come—”

If he was surprised at how easily you fell apart, he didn’t let on. You searched for his kiss right before your orgasm swept you away, and he held you, kissing you and receiving your deep moans in his mouth as though it were praise.

You were dizzy when you came down and held onto his shoulders as he grabbed you to lay over you on the couch. A euphoric giggle almost burst out as he pecked and nuzzled every inch of your face — you could swear you were with Taehyung, but that wasn’t—

“Can I finish?” he whispered against your mouth, and you opened your eyes.

Taehyung was really holding you in his arms, balls deep inside you, smiling with a hint of amusement.

You nodded, and he hummed. “Sure you had your fill?”

You shuddered, aware of the state of things. No.

You’d never have a proper fill because you didn’t want it to end. But as reality would have it, Taehyung was just fucking you. Just like you asked.

So you nodded and kissed him, refusing to let those feelings surface right now. You started, you’d finish. The final destination was just ahead; you had to know what he felt like when he came deep inside you.

He kissed you back and restarted the sweet movement of his hips, and you sighed. He held your legs high so you could wrap them around him and grabbed onto your hair to keep your chin up. You could barely breathe without a moan, and looking into his eyes while he fucked you made it all the harder. His lips were parted for soft sighs, and you squirmed under him, adjusting your hips. It was enough for him to falter and let you hide in his chest. You breathed him in, biting down on the soft flesh out of sheer frustration. He felt so good you could lose yourself again, but that wouldn’t happen. He wasn’t yours.

Still, his love felt like heaven. So when he pulled your head up again to face him, you did. You moaned your pleasure so he’d know how amazing he felt, scratched him closer, and looked into his eyes just like he wanted. In an instant, he groaned, and his hips faltered. He crashed into you, kissing you between stifled moans before he nuzzled your neck and stilled.

You hugged him to you with your eyes closed, taking deep breaths. He was breathing down your neck, recovering, and you matched him, feeling deeply every time your nose picked up a mix of his cologne with the sex scent still in the air. For as long as that lasted, you were free of thoughts and worries.

But then he got up, pulling out of you to get rid of the condom. And although he laid back down next to you, pulling you into his arms with a sweet smile, the spell had been broken.

You started trembling, and he noticed. He took your fingertips to his lips to kiss them, ready to ask you cheekily if he had given you more than you bargained for when you sniffled.

His heart fell through; he looked at you, and you tried to hide in his chest.

He brushed your hair behind your ear. “Hey.”

You couldn’t face him; your eyes stayed shut so you wouldn’t cry.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was low and laced with worry, and your heart hurt even more. You didn’t want him to worry; he was just doing what he said he would. He just had no idea how you felt.

You shouldn’t have done this. You were terrified to lose him. Nothing was worth that.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship,” you managed to say before a sob shook you. “You’re my best friend.”

Taehyung almost smiled; if he had only heard those words, he would have promised you that nothing was lost. That you two together never spelled just friends in his mind, and that he wanted so much more than that.

But he could feel you and see you: the lines on your face that spelled the unshed tears, the way you were trembling in his arms, and your refusal to face him.

His heart sank. A storm of questions raged inside his mind — was it him, was it the sex, did he hurt you, was it not what you expected, did you never want this to happen, did you regret it — but he asked none of it. The more you tried to stay put and not cry, the sadder and more certain he became that you were distressed. That you wanted him just as a friend and that nothing he had done had convinced you otherwise.

You opened your tearful eyes. “I don’t want things to change.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, a lopsided smile showing instead. He couldn’t help eying your lips and regret with his whole heart not having stolen one last kiss to remember you by, to settle his heart, but there was nothing to do about it. Instead, he looked up at your teary gaze and brushed your cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

[Part 2]

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kooktrash · 2 years ago

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cool with you | jeon jungkook

summary: your break up from kim taehyung sent you spiraling into what felt like a midlife crisis of tear stained cheeks and tubs of half eaten ice cream with a broken heart. after finding out that your neighbor, jeon jungkook, was eavesdropping on your meltdowns and came to find out that your ex was his old friend, he found himself wanting to comfort you. he knew the kind of guy Taehyung was and he didn’t want to see you beat yourself up over a guy who wasn’t worth it so in the end he helped you through it and was unable to ignore the growing attraction you felt toward each other.

➣ genre/au: strangers to friends to lovers. smut. afab!reader [she/her] x neighbor!jk

➣ 14.6k words

warnings: f2l. s2l. oc dated Tae but only implied. tae is kinda an asshole. jk likes to mind his business but his neighbor was loud af. he jumps into a pool with oc. oc is a hot mess and a little crazy. unprotected intercourse. couch sex. mutual masturbation. rising. missionary. jk had a big one 😛. shirtless jk. he literally just be picking up oc whenever he feels like it. oc lowkey stresses him out like all the time. tae did Jk dirty before. mutual pining. heavy petting. make out. idk y’all this jk kinda deserves the world.

song inspo: cool with you — new jeans [you know me like no other]

Jungkook was not the type to care, and that’s him putting it simply. He considered himself an average guy, he had friends and he went out and he studied well. He went to parties and stayed in to play video games, very average. The girls he hooked up with always knew he wasn’t looking for anything serious and the guys he hung out with were as carefree as he was. The point is, he does his own thing and stays out of drama, that’s how he likes it.

He does everything he can to stay out of

complicated situations, so when he overheard something he definitely shouldn't have… he tried to ignore it.

“Yes, we broke up.”

All he wanted was to enjoy his cigarette on his balcony without having to listen in on his neighbor’s phone call because they had their window open.

“No, I am not crying.”

It sounds like you are.

“I swear, I’m not.”

Jungkook swears you were. He doesn’t care… he’s just nosy and it’s not like he could ignore how loud you were. It was actually a surprise, he’s never interacted with you aside from the occasional pounding on the wall to tell him to keep it down. He finds it rare whenever you’re the one being louder than he was and on this particular night he couldn’t help but listen in on your conversation.

“I already got all my things out of Taehyung’s place, we’re done, seriously.”

A cloud of smoke covered the air above him as he released an exhale and hit the cigarette against his ashtray to get some of the excess ash off. A small smirk came to his face as he came to realize what a hypocrite he was. After going on and on about being a drama free dude, he stands here to listen to his neighbor talk about Taehyung, this mysterious ex of yours.

Funny thing actually, Jungkook used to know a guy named Taehyung. It was a somewhat common name, maybe, and it sounded similar to others so maybe he’s just hearing wrong but it was funny nonetheless—especially if Taehyung really was the right name.

“I'm just over it now, it was always the same thing with him,” your voice sounded a bit clearer now and he honestly forgot he was even eavesdropping, “Kim Taehyung doesn’t care about anybody but himself and I’m just tired of following him around.”

The cigarette dangling between his teeth as he glanced over to your balcony almost fell when his eyes met yours. You had already stopped talking but you stood at your open window now, phone in your hand, and looking right at him. Like usual, you didn’t acknowledge each other aside from a quick up and down stare and when it became clear to you that he heard it all, you slammed your window shut with a glare.

Jungkook snatched the cigarette from his lips and quickly put it out before taking a step back so he could close his window too. He immediately threw himself down on his couch reaching for his PS5 controller and scrolling through his friends, inviting random ones to log on and play him.

It was a lazy, peaceful night, for him at least.

You stared at the picture in your Snapchat memories with disgust. You were in the second stage of grief, ‘anger’, and every stupid picture of Taehyung that popped up on your phone just pissed you off.

One year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days with that guy just for him to bring up a break up on your anniversary? What a fucking asshole.

“I hate men,” you said mindlessly as you swung your legs back and forth on the edge of your friend’s bed, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jimin walked around the bed, picking up whatever mess he had on the floor, “But I still can’t believe it’s been a week already. How does it feel to officially be single again? Have you talked to him?”

You released a scoff, “Not after I got all my things.”

Here’s the thing, despite the argument you had before the break up, it felt so out of the blue. You didn’t think that a conversation over the fact that he prioritized quite literally everything else but you. His photography was more important, his friends were, his gaming was… everything and when you brought it up to him an argument ensued and boom:

“If you feel that way then maybe we should just break it off, Y/n.”

“Fine, maybe we should.”

And that’s how you found yourself single and heartbroken on the day that was supposed to be your one year anniversary.

Now you’re at your friend’s house having to recount everything that happened the other night because despite telling him everything on the phone and through texts, Jimin still needed an in-person retelling.

After a while of being bored with nothing to do at his place, you decided to move it to yours where you planned to also do nothing and be bored—but with a change of scenery. He drove you both back to your apartment with no desire to do anything but continue to shit talk just in a new environment. The drive wasn’t long at all and it didn’t take much time for the two of you to be trudging up the three flights of stairs to your floor talking about whatever came to mind.

The second you got even close to your door, you heard it. Your neighbor, like usual, was being loud. From the way he was yelling you could tell he’s playing some video game right now and he never had a sense of awareness when he’s in a match. You let out a sigh as you struggled with your key for a minute and Jimin looked to your neighbor’s door, “The walls are paper thin, aren’t they?”

“Yup,” you huffed, finally pushing your door open, “And he’s always loud like that. You should hear when he has a girl over.”

“Is that why you were always at Taehyung’s?” He asked you.

“Kind of? He hasn’t lived here for long but ever since then he’s just been driving me crazy,” you told him as you looked for your remote control to turn the tv on. Jimin couldn’t help but smirk as an idea came to mind.

“You should sleep with him,” he said as he plopped down on your couch, “Nice little rebound sex and if you hear him having sex then that’s gotta mean he’s good.”

You rolled your eyes joining him on the couch, “Shut up, why don’t you go and see, yourself then?”

“Not my type.”

“You haven’t even seen him.”

“I just know,” Jimin said.

The topic of your neighbor fell once your friend and you got bored of it and found something else to do.

That night, after Jimin had left, you found yourself in a strange predicament. Now that you’re alone with your thoughts you couldn’t help but think about your ex again and that led to where you are now:

With a tub of half eaten ice cream in front of you and large, unnecessary crocodile tears falling down your cheeks. Some sad Taylor Swift played loudly in the background and you found yourself singing along annoyingly hiccuping while crying.

“NOW IM IN EXILE SEEING YOU OUT.”

Just next door, your neighbor was busy on his own. Well, okay, he’s not busy but he was trying to nap. He worked practically all night last night and he hasn’t been able to catch up on his sleep. He would’ve been asleep already if his neighbor wasn’t blurting out the wrong lyrics to Taylor Swift on the other side of the drywall. He was beginning to understand how annoyed you would get whenever he was too loud.

He tried to ignore it for a while but when the sad songs changed to upbeat ones that have you belching the lyrics loudly, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stormed out of his apartment and right next door where he pounded on the door loudly, hearing you scream.

It took you a moment to realize someone was knocking and he could tell because you lowered the music enough to hear him knock. A few seconds later the door opened just slightly and realizing it was your neighbor you opened it a little more.

Jungkook was shocked at the sight of you, bloodshot eyes and smeared mascara as you smiled and said, “Hello?”

He blinked in disbelief at the way you looked but tried moving on past that, accidentally blurting out something he didn’t intend to, “Do you mind keeping it down? I’m trying to sleep and I would rather not hear you sing Taylor Swift extremely off key at the top of your lungs—“

“I’ve gotta listen to you all the time,” you told him with narrowed eyes, glaring at him. He released a sigh, “I know and now I get it but I’ve been listening to pretty much every single part of how your break up went down and that’s not something I’m interested in. Kim Taehyung is not worth all this moping around.”

The words slipped but he knew he messed up when your eyes widened in surprise and before he could apologize and say he didn’t mean to eavesdrop and that you were just so loud, you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him inside. Jungkook stumbled along, hitting the door on his way in and you shut it behind him asking, “How do you know Taehyung?”

Shit, he thought as he looked down at how close your face was to his, still holding him by his shirt and he had to move your hand before he could answer. He didn’t mean to say that but it just slipped and now he has to explain himself to his hot mess of a neighbor.

“Um,” he waited, trying to piece together how to say it, “I overheard you on the phone the other day and the name was familiar and… well, he’s an old friend of mine.”

“Then why haven’t I ever heard of you? Wait, what’s your name?” You asked.

“Jeon Jungkook, and that’s probably because him and I haven’t been on talking terms in a while,” Jungkook said vaguely, “And you were never really home until, I’m assuming, this break up.”

“It’s because you’re so loud, yourself, that it would drive me insane so I would just spend time at his place instead,” you said honestly as you finally went to turn off the song, at least that’s what he thought, but next thing he knew you were playing the beginning of an anime, Toradora, and singing along to the intro. You didn’t even seem to care he was in here.

“What happened? You guys had a fall out?” You asked, clearly not planning on kicking him out just yet and he walked over to where you sat and joined you, “Who said you could sit on my couch?”

That made him roll his eyes despite not knowing you and he sat anyway, “Uh because you dragged me in here and started asking me questions. I’m not just gonna stand, plus I can’t nap because of you so I guess I’m watching too, who’s your favorite character?”

“Ryuuji, I like his simplicity but I’m a fan of Ami’s too, she’s had the best character growth through the show and manga,” you said as you played a random episode.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jungkook said making himself comfortable, “I like Ryuuji too, I think he’s a bit misunderstood and I know Taiga bullies him but I don’t know, I like that he’s comfortable with her and the way him and his mom took her in? Heart bursted right there.”

“Yeah, Taiga is just his neighbor but he recognized how hard it was for her to do things on her own and it was like an instant connection between the two. He didn’t mind nurturing her but also helping her see right and wrong, vise versa.” You told him turning the volume up and he nodded.

“What’s your name again?” He asked, hearing you sniffle but not bother to wipe off the mascara that ran down your cheeks. You picked up your ice cream tub and began to eat again, “Y/n.”

“Nice to formally meet you.”

The night was long and Jungkook was stuck at work. He can’t even explain how many drunk people he’s had to turn away already and the night has just begun. His friends stood at his side all doing the same thing, checking IDs, taking entrance fees, stopping bar goers from taking their drinks outside when they leave, etc.

“So your neighbor was dating Taehyung and you didn’t even know?” Namjoon asked as he flashed a light on someone’s driver’s license.

“I had never seen him in our building but to be fair she was rarely home and I didn’t have much of a reason to pay attention,” Jungkook said motioning for a group of guys to enter.

“That’s crazy,” Hoseok said as he came over with a box of donuts, “How long has it been since you and him even talked?”

Jungkook shrugged as he took a hit of his vape, “Like two years? How was I even supposed to know he was in a relationship?”

“True,” Namjoon said, letting another group in, “It doesn’t matter to you, it’s just crazy that your neighbor was the one dating him. Is she cute?”

“Hey, can I hit your vape?” Some girl asked as Jungkook checked her ID. She was cute and dressed for a night out bud he wasn’t even paying attention.

“No,” he said to her but Namjoon made a face that immediately made him backtrack, “I mean, yes she is cute—no to hitting my vape.”

“Ooo, maybe you should comfort her and see where it goes,” Hoseok joked, making Jungkook shake his head no, watching his friend eat a donut.

“Are you crazy? She seems like a lot and I would rather not get involved in any drama with him again. She’s cool though,” Jungkook said before turning to Hoseok again, “Where'd you get the donuts?”

“Some girl,” he said with a shrug, “Want one?”

Jungkook took one and bit into it, “And let me tell you, she seems like a lot to handle so I don’t even get how her and Taehyung got together.”

Namjoon chuckled, “Are you that curious? What happened to staying out of the drama?”

“I mean… that’s what I want but considering she’s loud when she cries it’s kinda hard not to get involved, Y/n sang like six heartbreak songs the other day and I basically got serenaded,” Jungkook said dramatically, “But I’m leaving it alone. I don’t want anything to do with Taehyung and whatever heartbroken girl he left this time.”

By the time they all got off work it was a little past 3:00am and he was absolutely beat. All he wanted to do was get home and make himself some of his special ramen and knock out but as he got to his door it was hard for him to ignore the sounds of pans clattering next door. He knocked on your door before he could stop himself and waited for you to open.

“It’s you again,” you said and you wore a tank top that showed a bit of your mid drift and some plaid boxer shirt with long socks, “Don’t tell me I’m being loud again, I’m so hungry I think I’ll die if I don’t eat something right now.”

You immediately went into a mini rant like he was a friend of yours and although it surprised him, he found himself saying, “I’m hungry too, I’m gonna make ramen, want some?”

Your eyes widened hopefully, “Please?”

“Come over.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure why he even bothered talking to you but he’s gotta be honest… he’s a sucker for girls crying. Listen, he’s been in relationships but he doesn’t care much for them. Of course when he’s actually in one he tends to pay attention to his partner a lot but truthfully, they’re kinda a bother. He’s not saying he wants a relationship with you but he’s been pretty closed off lately and maybe this is a sign that he should try and befriend people outside of his circle.

Anyways, now you’re over at his place and it’s nearly 4:00am but he’s in his kitchen making ramen as you looked through his manga collection.

“Wow, you’re like a weeb,” you said, “You’ve got all the popular ones too. Demon Slayer, Naruto — god awful taste — One Piece, Jesus the whole collection of Attack on Titan? You even got little figurines, yeah you’re a weeb.”

“Hey,” Jungkook glared at you, choosing to ignore your weeb comments in favor of asking, “What’s wrong with Naruto?”

“Nothing,” You said with a shrug, “I just personally don’t trust a man who loves Naruto.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he chuckled, “Okay, I don’t love Naruto but it’s nostalgic—and don’t lie, it’s not that bad.”

“I mean it’s not… but it’s not that good either,” you said, “I’m more of a shoujo girly so just ignore me.”

“Have you even watched it then?”

“Obviously,” you said, finally returning to him, “Are you almost done? I’m starving.”

“Are you always this impatient?” Jungkook asked and it’s strange that neither one of you have taken the time to note that you’re really just strangers. You’re not friends and you’ve barely started interacting but for some reason it felt like you’ve been friends for a long time. There was no awkwardness now and it kills him to know you used to date Taehyung because you’re nothing like him.

It shouldn’t matter to him, and it doesn’t but… it’s just strange. When he was friends with Taehyung it was mostly because they had a lot of history and not because they were similar. Jungkook was very different from him and oftentimes it would lead to unnecessary disagreements that friends shouldn’t have. It’s just hard to imagine your relationship with him and how you’ve landed yourself hanging out with Jungkook instead.

He’s a little uncomfortable with that because of what Taehyung has done in the past and it makes him feel a little guilty to even talk to you when he knows he has no reason to be.

“Yes,” you said, finally drawing his attention back to you, “Always.”

“Well it’s done so grab a bowl, top left cabinet,” he said.

Soon enough the two of you were eating ramen alone together in his apartment. If he explained this to his friends they would immediately make inappropriate jokes of ‘Ramen and Chill’ but it was anything but that. It was just two neighbors up late and hungry.

“So,” Jungkook cleared his throat as he swallowed a huge bite of noodles, “If you don’t care, can I ask what happened between you and your ex.”

“Um,” you hesitated, “I don’t know… if you’re still friends I don’t really want to get into i—“

“We’re not,” Jungkook quickly cut in, “We haven’t been for a while but if you still don’t want to tell me, I get it.”

“No, I’ll tell you,” you finally said and set down your bowl on the kitchen counter that you currently sat on. Jungkook just nodded his head waiting for you to start but it seemed like you were preparing to tell the greatest story of all time.

“Well, he dumped me on our one year anniversary for starters,” you said and that immediately made him cringe at his former friend’s cruel timing, “It sort of happened out of nowhere, I mean I noticed he had gone more quiet on the days leading up to it but I didn’t think it had anything to do with me. Clearly I had been wrong though because he dumped me a few days later like I had been the problem. He texted me a couple days ago asking how I’ve been but I haven’t responded. I’m still mad.”

“Rightfully so,” Jungkook said, taking your empty plate and setting it down in his sink, “Did he ever give you a real reason?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “Maybe not, I can’t remember.”

The two of you were quiet for a moment and before he could think of something else to talk about before you left, you asked, “What about you? What happened between you and Kim Taehyung?”

Jungkook didn’t respond right as he debated if it was worth telling you or not. It was years ago and it was never anything that serious but… at the time it had been and they’re clearly still not friends. He raised his shoulders in a shrug, “It’s a long story and not worth it.”

Instead of pushing him to go on you released a tired yawn not caring for how you looked as you hopped off his counter, “Alright well I’m fed and now tired too so I think I’m going to try and sleep a bit before work. You should catch some sleep before you have to go in.”

“I just got off,” Jungkook said as he opened the front door for you, “I’m a club bouncer, sadly.”

“Ooo, maybe you’ve kicked me out before,” you joked, “I can get messy if I’ve had one too many drinks.”

“I’m sure you can,” Jungkook said with a chuckle, “But goodnight, when do you have to wake up?”

“Mm, in like three hours? I work at a coffee shop,” You said, finally stepping out into the hall. His eyes widened before he was fully pushing you out, “Go to sleep, Y/n.”

When you were finally gone and he was alone in his home, he didn’t even make it to his bed and instead passed out on the couch.

You wouldn’t say you and Jungkook have become friends because you don’t actually know if that’s true. What you do know is that for the past week enough you’ve been talking way more to him than your other friends but only because they’re busy. Jimin has already argued with you [very dramatically, you will say] because he’s accused you of getting a new best friend which wasn’t true.

It was just extremely easy to talk to Jungkook, like you’ve been friends for years and he’s slowly helped you forget about Taehyung. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary but for some reason Jungkook is really good at taking care of people. Take now for instance, he’s decided to come with you grocery shopping because you didn’t have a car and would have to take everything on the train.

Now you two are splitting a grocery cart and both going shopping as you asked, “Jungkook, how come I never hear girls at your place anymore?”

“Hm?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly as he stared at different types of milk, “Because you got annoyed by it.”

That made you smirk a bit as you used to shopping cart for support making it tilt slightly, “Wow, I didn’t realize you’ve grown so considerate of me, Mr. International Playboy.”

“I don’t know why you insist on calling me that, I’ve only slept with one person who wasn’t from here and she was Japan so still not too far,” he said with a sigh as he put things in the cart, “Besides, don’t get too cocky, I just don’t have the time to tell anyone that I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“Mm,” you said, pushing the cart along while he held onto the other end of it and dragged it along, “Well, I don’t even see your friends over. Do you even have friends?”

That made him roll his eyes, “Obviously, I just… I’m antisocial, you know this.”

“Do I?” You asked, picking through boxes of cereal, “You seem pretty social to me.”

“Yeah, well you’re different.”

“Ugh,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, leaving him behind as you kept walking, “I hate when guys so that because they can never explain how—“

“For starters you’re the only person I’ve seen have mascara running down your face while you watch Toradora, that’s different right?” Jungkook teased a bit by bumping into your shoulder when he caught up, “And cry and 3 in the morning because you can’t cook.”

“Okay that doesn’t make me different, that just makes me a hot mess.”

He smiled, “I mean yeah, but you’re not embarrassed. You’re actually kinda fun to be around and when we talk we can just talk about anything, y’know? That’s what makes you different.”

You shrugged and looked away trying to ignore the growing flush that filled your cheeks, “Good enough explanation—Hey! What are you doing this weekend? Do you have to work?”

“Yeah.”

“Lame.”

Jungkook stopped walking as he turned to look at you, “Why?”

“You know Kim Seokjin? He’s having a little pool party and he invited me but I know Taehyung is going to be there and I didn’t want to go alone,” you told him. Jungkook knew Jin, they used to be close friends but they’re a little distant now. He was also invited to the party but he had work so he was already not planning on going.

“Have you asked Jimin?” He asked you as he caught up to where you were. You nodded, “Yeah but he’s going to Busan for the weekend and my other friend Yoongi will be busy, it’s whatever. I’ll stop by for a second and then head out.”

Jungkook didn’t say much else after that. He understood how you must have felt. You want to go for Jin’s sake but you’re wary about seeing your ex boyfriend. He felt bad he had to work and your other friends were busy but it’s not like he could just call in to work for a party.

When Friday night rolled around you had taken about two shots before even leaving your house just to give yourself the courage to go. There wasn’t a need for you to go to the party but Jin had become your friend through Taehyung and you weren’t going to let any of them think you were avoiding Taehyung because you’re still heartbroken.

So when you showed up alone with your head held high, you were greeted warmly by the host. He wrapped you in his arms, “You came! So, drinks are inside, just get whatever you want and you can chill inside or outside. Did you come alone?”

“Yeah, the others were busy,” you told him honestly, “But it’s whatever, I’m just here to get drunk.”

Jin ruffled your hair with a smile, “Alright, come find me if you get lonely.”

You gave him a thumbs up and headed toward the kitchen where all the drinks were set up. You just got here so you haven’t seen Taehyung yet but you’re sure he’s around the corner getting drunk and you didn’t want to be sober when you ran into him.

“Y/n?”

Shit.

You looked up in time to catch your ex boyfriend walking into the open kitchen with furrowed brows. You debated ignoring him but that would just make it seem like you were still caught up on him, so instead you gave a nod of your head and said a short, “Hey?”

“Uh, hey,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “What are you doing here?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion, “I was invited?”

“I mean, I know but…” he bit his lip nervously and you dated Taehyung long enough to know something was up. Just as you were gonna ask what was wrong with you being here, a short brunette appeared at his arm, wrapping hers around his and looking up at him not bothering to acknowledge you.

“There you are, you can’t just leave me at a party with people I don’t know when you invited me, TaeTae,” she said looking up at him with starry eyes. You tried to not look surprised as he looked down in embarrassment, suddenly looking nervous when he looked back at you. The girl finally looked at you and asked, “Who are you?”

Taehyung opened his mouth to tell her to shut up but you were smiling already, “Y/n, you two look great together—even matching clothes—but I gotta go, there’s better things I could be doing.”

He watched you leave without another word and he slid the girl’s hand off his arm. He made a mistake, he should have known you’d be here. Why did he think you would still be mourning the break up and wouldn’t bother to show? He barely knew this girl but she was hot so he invited her in hopes of making hooking up after… but he didn’t plan on his ex seeing him with another girl. He kind of missed you.

Jungkook wasn’t telling himself he came to see you.

The reason he showed up at this stupid party was because Jin kept asking him too and since his other two friends would be working and it wouldn’t be too busy, they let him leave. He debated just going home and going to bed but then he remembered about yo—Jin—and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to show up.

“Dude, it’s been so long,” Jin said with a firm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Let’s get you a drink an—“

“Have you seen Y/n?”

Jin stopped walking, he looked at his old friend with confusion, “Y/n?”

Jungkook nodded his head not bothering to question why Jin made a face. Jin was a lot closer to Taehyung so it’s not that he didn't know the two dated. Jungkook bets Jin is just surprised on why Jungkook, of all people, would be looking for you. Jin cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Um, not totally sure but check in the back. Can I ask why?”

“I’m looking for her,” Jungkook gave him a short and vague response before he was leaving to find you. On his way out he saw something he wished he hadn’t and it only made him want to find you sooner. Just as he got outside he looked over to find Taehyung extremely close to another girl and before he could look away, his former friend looked at him but didn’t acknowledge him whatsoever.

Jungkook didn’t care about that, he cares more about finding you and if you’ve seen Taehyung yet or if Jungkook still had time to distract.

“Liar!”

He whipped around at an instance when he felt a pointed finger like his bicep, “How?”

“You said you had to work!” You said slurring just slightly and clutching a half drunken drink. Jungkook just shrugged, “I didn’t lie. I did have to work but they let me go. Shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here?”

“I guess,” you grumbled, taking another sip from your cup, “Want a drink?”

“Nah,” Jungkook said, “I drove so I’m staying sober in case I need to take you home. How many drinks have you had?”

You didn’t respond right away as you looked up in thought. Jungkook will admit your attempt to focus on your thoughts made you look a bit cute. Your brows were scrunched together and your cheeks puffed up with your index finger tapping your chin, “Like since I got here? Or in general?”

His smile slowly fell, “Y/n, how much have you drank?”

“Not a lot…” you said with a high pitched voice that gave way to the fact that you were lying, “Maybe?”

With a small sigh he looked down at your drink, “Is that your last one?”

“Probably not—Hey! Did you see Taehyung?” You asked, turning your back to him, “He’s here with some girl.”

“I know,” Jungkook said reaching a hand out to drag you back to him, “Did you two talk?”

“Yeah, he came up to me first,” you said with a small scoff, missing a step and Jungkook had to grab you by the waist to keep you from tripping, “And then that girl just shows up clinging to him and she had the nerve to ask who I was? As if he’s not the one who came up to me—as if I’m not the one who dated him!?”

Jungkook can just feel the rising anger bubbling up inside you the longer you looked and he didn’t like that. You needed a distraction, he knew you were over Taehyung for the most part because anyone would get mad seeing their recent ex act chummy with another person.

“What an asshole!” You nearly yelled in your drunken state as you turned your back to the sight of your ex boyfriend flirting with a girl right in front of you. Jungkook released a huff, “I know, just don’t let it get to you. He’s not worth it.”

He tried to grab you as you stumbled a bit in your steps but you just moved farther away from him. The party was loud and he felt as if everyone was drunk but him and that wasn’t usually the case. Usually, he’s the drunkest one here but right now he’s babysitting you and he doesn’t know why. All night he’s watched you down drink after drink until all you could do was slur on your words and stumble when you walk.

It’s only been a week since the two of you started to really talk and hang out so he’s not used to this side of you and he genuinely does not know what to do. How did he ever think his neighbor was quiet and uptight when you’re such a hot mess? Maybe it’s because he didn’t see you often considering you were always at Taehyung’s but damn, he did not expect this.

And on top of that, he doesn’t get how you and Taehyung ever dated when to him you were completely different. He can’t picture Taehyung following after you as you swayed in your steps ready to walk over to your ex boyfriend and tell him off like he was currently doing.

Wait…

Jungkook seemed to trip over the pavement as he pushed through the crowds of people that led outside to the pool area, calling after you, “Y/n! What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna talk to him,” you yelled, not bothering to look at him, “It hasn’t even been a month and he’s already hitting on other girls knowing that I’m here? That’s such a dick move!”

“I know, Y/n but listen— excuse me — “ he pushed past a couple of girls to get to you, “You’re not going to gain anything. You’re drunk and there’s a lot of people here and — excuse me — you don’t make any sense right now!”

You clearly weren’t listening and Jungkook was beginning to panic. You’re in stage four of grief, ‘depression’ and he knows you’re sad and you just want to get things off your chest but he knows that if you try and confront Taehyung in the drunk state that you’re in… you’re the one who’s going to look like a fool, not him. Nobody is even going to bat an eye at him but they’ll watch you judgingly and you’ll regret even speaking to him by morning. Jungkook came to a stop as he watched you chug back the drink in your hand zoning in on Taehyung who stood on the other side of the pool with his hand on a girl’s ass and a smirk on his face. Fuck.

You’re mad at Taehyung and you want to get it out but right now isn’t the time. If you want to confront him about something you need to do it sober and somewhere private, not at a party for all to hear and laugh at you as you slur on your words. Jungkook knew you were mad and that wasn’t going to change… all he could do is change who you’re mad at…

There was so much on your mind as you made room for yourself through crowds of people so you could get to Taehyung. The pool lit up the backyard in hues of blue and purple as neon lights sunk to the bottom of it yet nobody actually swam. Everyone just stood around it and in your way when you had a mission. You were going to march right up to Taehyung and ask him what his problem was. He dumped you but played it off like it was mutual… He called you two weeks later to get that he misses you [even after you got all your shit out of his house] and has the nerve to smile at you tonight but flirt with another girl knowing you’re here? God, you were so fucking mad and all you wanted to do was confront him, not even caring who saw or heard and what they thought about you. You were too drunk to care.

He was about fifteen feet away now and you tried to call for him, “Tae—“

A loud yell replaced his name and big hands grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you up. The familiar scent of Dior cologne filled your nose and when you got thrown over a muscular back you knew right away who it was, “Jungkook! Put me down! What is your problem?”

“Honestly?” Jungkook asked as he fixed you over his shoulder, turning you around in the opposite direction of where Taehyung was, “You. You’re my problem, right now so let’s go home before you make a drunk fool of yourself in front of everyone.”

“Fuck you, I’m not gonna make a fool of myself,” you said and even then you couldn’t hide the fact that your words were coming out all wrong and your vision was blurry, “I just want to talk!”

“Well now’s not the time!” Jungkook yelled ignoring all the stares the two of you recieved, “So shut up and let’s go!”

You groaned loudly, fighting his hold with everything you said, mind still foggy from the alcohol, “No! The only place I want to go is on the other side of this pool an—“

Jungkook didn’t waste a single second in thinking about what he was going to do to make you forget about how mad you were at Taehyung right now. The only thing that could come to his mind was to direct your anger toward him instead and before he knew it he was walking toward the pool hearing your shouts in protest thinking he was going to throw you in—but he had other plans.

His point wasn’t to leave you to be the only one embarrassed [which would have been the case if he let you confront Taehyung or if he threw you in the water by yourself], his point was to make you mad at him and only him. So despite your continuous effort to fight him off, he took the single leap into the deep end, not letting you go until you were both submerged into the water with his arms around you.

You barely managed to hold your breath once you realized what he was doing and even then you couldn’t wrap your mind around it till you swam your way back to the surface. Jungkook watched you brush your wet hair out of your face in search of him and he ignored all the loud cheering around the two of you for being the first in the water, cocky smile on his face when you glared at him.

“What is wrong with you?!” You yelled as you purposely splashed water in his face out of anger—surprisingly feeling sobered up now. Jungkook didn’t say anything, he only laughed and swam the very short distance to you, arms around your waist and dragging you back into the water with him, fighting to hold his breath when he felt your hand in his hair yanking him deeper inside.

The second time you came up for air the only thing on your mind was how to murder your neighbor and make it look like an accident. Jungkook just kept smiling at you with that cocky look in his eyes as he asked, “Well?”

You almost didn’t bother answering as you swam to the edge in search of a way to pull yourself up without having to go to the ladder which was conveniently very close to where Taehyung was now watching the two of you with furrowed brows.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked as he lifted you up the edge with ease despite you telling him to fuck off and pulled himself up swiftly to follow you. You wrung the water out of your shirt, “Obviously!”

“Okay! But at who?” Jungkook asked, ignoring everyone looking at him and trying to talk to him. You scoffed, “You! Asshole.”

“Good,” Jungkook said triumphantly, completely unaware of the way his former friend watched you two leave the backyard party completely drenched in water.

The only thing on Taehyung’s mind was what the hell was going on? When he saw you earlier you weren’t with anyone. It was just you and he didn’t even know Jungkook was here but maybe it’s because it’s been so long since he last saw the kid and he’s very obviously grown up and changed with all the tattoos and piercings. So all he wanted to know was how the fuck did you two know each other?

When morning came and the sun beamed down on your face more than you were used to, you woke up with an annoyed groan turning in bed to hide. The scent of shampoo coated the pillow you rested your head on and it was a surprisingly deep smell that had you snuggled into the pillow further you hid from the light. In an effort to fall back asleep and ignore the pounding of your head, you rolled onto your side hitting a wall of pillows and blankets. Your eyes opened just slightly, vision still blurry as you blinked sleep away and allowed yourself to look around, a scream leaving your lips as you toppled off the bed. Tangled in a blanket you hit the floor with a loud thud that had the person that made you scream shoot you abruptly.

Jungkook looked around, leaning over the side of the bed with an annoyed huff, “Jeez, you gave me a heart attack.”

Your jaw dropped as you sat on the floor, “I gave you a heart attack? Um what are you doing in my bed?”

“Your bed?” Jungkook furrowed his brows, “Look around sweetie.”

You did just that, eyes widening even further that he swears they’ll pop out of their socket, “Where am I?”

“My room,” Jungkook laid back down with a loud yawn.

“And what am I doing here?”

He released a sigh like he couldn’t be bothered but said, “Well after your drunk fiasco at the party, I brought you back and you couldn’t find your keys so you slept over here.”

Your brows furrowed, “What happened to my clothes?”

“They were wet and you were falling all over the place so I had to change you—don’t worry I had my eyes closed,” he told you and you took it in. Jungkook was sober majority of last night and you could only imagine what happened when he brought you home.

“Where are your keys?” He asked tiredly after he held you up with one arm ignoring the fact that you were both still drenched in pool water. You hiccuped, “I forgot them.”

“What?!” Jungkook asked louder than intended and you glared at him, “Don’t yell at me.”

“You’re a mess,” Jungkook grumbled, dragging you over to his front door, “I’ve never had to take care of a grown adult this much.”

“Just leave me outside to deal with my misery,” you said dramatically as he hauled you into his apartment, letting you fall to the floor once inside. Jungkook just shook his head as he left to his bedroom in search of something you could change into. When he came back you were sprawled on the floor half asleep and he punched the space between his brows in annoyance, “Y/n, get up, you need to change.”

All you did was groan, “I tired.”

“Yeah, well me too,” Jungkook kneeled down to grab you by your ankles and drag you across the floor before making you sit up. He angrily pulled the shirt over your head asking himself why he had to deal with you because your ex is a piece of shit.

Okay, he doesn’t have to but who else will?

The shirt fit you big so when you flipped back to the floor with a whine he asked, “Take off your jeans or else the wet denim is gonna give you a rash.”

“Yesh, dad,” you raised a hand to your forehead as if saluting him and you did as told, giving up halfway and making him finish yanking them down your legs with his eyes closed.

“You’re not allowed to drink anymore when we’re together,” Jungkook said, ordering you to slide your shirt off from under the tee, “At least not as much as you did tonight.”

He took your wet clothes and went to change before hanging it all to dry outside and when he went to the living room carrying a blanket for you to sleep on the couch with, you were asleep… still on the floor. With a stomp of his foot in a mini tantrum, Jungkook knelt down, slipped an arm under your neck and the other under your knees and picked you up with a huff. He wasn’t even careful when he let you fall onto the couch.

“Oh god, did we do anything stupid?” You asked referring to the fact that you had woken up in bed with him and wearing some t-shirt of his. Jungkook rolled his eyes, “No. You were supposed to sleep in the living room but you woke me up in the middle of the night because Bam kept kicking your face. Then you got all touchy and I made this pillow fort to protect myself from you.”

It had to be close to 3:00am when Jungkook finally let himself fall asleep. He made himself comfortable in bed trying to relax after the hectic night he’s had and when he was just finally starting to fall, a loud knock on his door snapped him awake.

“Ju—koo!” A whiny voice called from the other side of the door.

“What?!”

“Cold,” you whined, head leaned against the door, “And Bam won't stop licking my face.”

Jungkook huffed, “Tell him to stop!”

“I did,” you knocked on the door. He kicked off his blankets in annoyance, “You’re so needy!”

Even as he said that, he got out of bed and opened his bedroom door, moving to the side as you pushed past him and threw yourself down on his bed with your blanket wrapped around your body tightly. He watched you with tired eyes before going to his side of the bed. He grabbed all the extra pillows, moved you to one side and set up a wall to separate himself from you.

“God, what happened last night?” You groaned as you got up only to fall back onto his bed trying to piece it all together. You only remembered a couple things, “You threw me into the pool, asshole.”

“Yeah? Well, I would’ve been a bigger asshole if I let you make a fool of yourself in front of Taehyung and everyone else,” Jungkook said. You looked at him, only turning your head on its side and he did the same, neither of you saying anything for a moment.

You should probably say thank you but the way things unfolded, it might only make things more awkward. You were already slightly embarrassed but yes definitely seen you act stupid plenty of times so instead you said, “Help me get inside my apartment.”

The two of you stood on his balcony now, both looking toward yours which was separated from his by about two feet. He shifted his gaze toward you, “I’m confused, what are you trying to do?”

“The door is unlocked, I just gotta get over there and let myself in,” you said with a gulp as you poked down at the forty foot drop. Jungkook shook his head, “Are you stupid? I’m not letting you do that.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” You asked him with your hand on your hip. He mirrored your pose with more attitude, “Call the maintenance man, genius.”

“It’s gonna take them like three days to get back to me, Einstein, are you helping me or not?” You asked and you watched him stop to think.

“I’ll do it,” Jungkook said but you just shook your head.

“No, I’ve got underwear hanging to dry by the door, it’s not happening,” you told him, already walking to the railing. Jungkook gave up on arguing with you over it and followed after you. You gripped the railing looking over to your balcony which was only two feet away. This should be easy… all you have to do is get over his to yours, he ever has a little stool that he sits on that you could use as a boost.

Jungkook thought about what he should do to help you and in the end just held you by the waist to keep you balanced as you lifted a leg over the railing and stepped onto the short side of the cement ledge, “Oh my god, you’ve gotta be the craziest girl I’ve ever met.”

“You know a lot of people say that to me,” you said and the two foot gap didn’t seem as intimidating anymore, “Okay, let me go.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook begged as his arms tightened around your waist, “This is a bad idea.”

“Too late, I’m already halfway there so let go before I fall on purpose to make you feel bad,” you nervously joked as he let go but not without calling you a bitch. With your breath held tightly, you stretched a leg out first feeling the end of your balcony touch it and with a careful leap, you held onto your railing hearing Jungkook gasp nervously. He watched you swing a leg over until the railing was between both of them and as you finally touched down on your side, you slipped, falling into the hard cement with a groan.

Jungkook shielded his eyes with his hands, “Are you good?”

“Barely,” you huffed as you forced yourself to your feet and checked to see if the glass sliding door was in fact unlocked. Your heart seemed to tighten in relief as you opened it, huge smile on your face looking back to your neighbor, “Got it! Okay, I’m gonna get cleaned up, thanks.”

Jungkook was already picking up his pack of cigarettes and bringing it to his lips, “You stress me out.”

“I’ll make up for it,” you said already halfway through your door, “Whatever you want, just tell me and I’ll do it.”

With that, you left for your apartment in search for your spare keys and he sat down on his stool with a breath of relief. He couldn’t believe you and the more he thought about it, the more confused he got on how you and Taehyung found each other…

The thought didn’t last long in his head when he looked down at his vibrating phone, eyebrows furrowed as he read the caller ID.

“KIM TAEHYUNG”

It took Jungkook a moment to even decide if he wanted to answer or not but in the end he couldn’t help himself and curiosity got the best of him, “Hello?”

Taehyung’s voice was unusually cheery, “Hey man! How have you been?”

Jungkook shrugged even though his former friend couldn’t see him, “Uh, good I guess, what’s up?”

“I was calling cause of last night…” Taehyung said dragging out his words as if it would ring a bell for Jungkook.

He didn’t say anything wondering how this would go. It’s weird that Taehyung was even calling him and if there’s any reason behind it, it’s you, “Hm…”

Taehyung wasn’t sure why he expected a bigger response but he brushed off his small hum and went on, “Well I saw you with Y/n and everyone was kinda curious, what happened?”

“Oh, Y/n did something to piss me off so I got back at her. Why?” Jungkook said playing off the events from last night until he understood why Taehyung was bothering to talk to him after their fall out.

“Hm? Oh um, well, I just… I didn’t know the two of you were friends,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly as he thought about it. Last night confused the hell out of him. First, he ran into you as he’s with another girl and second, he runs into an old friend—to make matters more confusing it appears you two knew each other and he doesn’t get how.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk, a little annoyed but he ignored it as he went inside, “I get it, how could you know anyway? When’s the last time you and I talked? Like two years ago?”

Taehyung nervously chuckled, “Yeah, I guess. So did Y/n get home safely?”

He rolled his eyes, “Why are you so curious about her?”

“Huh?” Taehyung was genuinely surprised, “She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He asked, deciding to play dumb.

“We used to date?” Taehyung said seriously, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t like the news if in fact, you’ve never told him. He wants to know what’s going on between you, he doesn’t care if he’s your ex, he deserves to know.

“Oh, no Y/n’s never even mentioned you,” Jungkook lied for your sake. He wasn’t going to give Taehyung the benefit of knowing he’s still on your mind.

“Not even at the party?” Taehyung asked with furrowed brows, suspicious if Jungkook was telling the truth or not.

“Uh, no? Why? Did something happen?” Jungkook asked as he pet his dog subconsciously as he smiled listening to the sound of music already coming from your apartment.

“No, not really. So, what are you doing? How about we get lunch and catch up?” Taehyung asked and if he could see Jungkook right now, he would see how unimpressed he was by that idea.

Jungkook leaned back in the couch and said, “I’m kinda busy, maybe another time?”

“I mean, okay… sure, yeah let’s catch up another time.”

Taehyung was suspicious, of course he was! When he broke up with you it’s because he told himself he didn’t have feelings for you anymore but clearly that’s not true because seeing you with Jungkook… it pissed him off. Sure, you and Taehyung didn’t have much in common but you worked, that’s why you were together for a year.

Jungkook is—he’s a shut-in hermit crab and you’re not. He doesn’t bother with drama or getting to know someone new so how the hell did you two even meet and have you really never even mentioned him once? Jungkook clearly didn’t know that the two of you were together and that just pisses him off even more. Why is it that you didn’t talk about him to Jungkook? It’s not like the two of you broke up long ago, it’s recent.

When the call finally came to an end he was left alone to wonder what the hell was going on with you two?

There wasn’t a shift in the air that you two have noticed but something has definitely changed. The amount of times you hang out has increased dramatically to the point where you were at least seeing each other once a day whether it be to eat ramen or go to the gas station. If you were free and Jungkook was free… chances are you’re gonna see what you can do together. Your friends swear that he’s all you talk about lately but you don’t think that’s true—until you hear that how friends think he talks a lot about you two.

It’s strange, your friendship has just grown stronger each day. Everyone keeps trying to say that there’s no way the two of you are just friends but you really are…

Seriously…

“I can’t believe you did that,” you said laying back on the couch with your feet over his lap. You wouldn’t have had your feet on him at all if he didn’t force himself down on your small couch.

“Did what?” Jungkook as he leaned over your legs so that he could sit forward and play his game better.

You pushed your heel against his thigh, “Drag your PS5 over here instead of just playing at your place.”

Jungkook just smacked his lips in annoyance toward his game, still not bothering to even look at you at all, his eyes stayed on your tv screen as he said, “You wanted to hang out.”

“But you’re not even talking to me,” You threw your head back against the armrest of the couch moving your feet off him and that finally got him to pay attention and he paused his game to look at you. He even went as far as setting his controller down on your coffee table, a little smirk on his face.

“Aw, you want me to pay attention to you?” Jungkook asked with a small laugh, “Okay, okay, how was your day?”

In reality he wanted to ask how you’ve been feeling lately—more specifically, toward him. The way the two of you became friends was a bit random and him even being here with you is strange considering the fact that he became your friend after you broke up with Taehyung. The timing wasn’t right but he does know that your friendship is strong and you don’t think about whatever happened in the past when you’re with him.

He likes that. He likes how easy it is around you.

Sure, sometimes the line in which he separates you from a friend to someone he is attracted to is beginning to blur.

No, he doesn’t find you attractive.

Well okay, yes he does. Even after seeing you with makeup down your face, drunk out of your mind, and first thing in the morning when your hair's a mess—for only being friends for a short amount of time he’s really seen a lot of sides of you.

But you’re just friends, he knows that, he doesn’t expect more… he didn’t even want more. Since the beginning all he’s ever done is talk about wanting to just be by himself and mind his business but clearly that all changed when you came along and to be honest, he liked the change.

“It was okay,” you said, making him realize that he had moved his hand onto your calf, and was softly sliding if higher then back down, “Just really boring and then I ask you to hang out and you’re just y’know… gaming.”

For a second Jungkook thought you were being serious and actually began to feel bad about possibly upsetting you by not giving you any attention. Just a moment later though he could see you smile and hold back a laugh when you watch him go serious with worry. When he realized you wanted to laugh, he rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I thought you were being serious.”

You just chuckled watching him lean against the other end of the armrest. He was sitting forward but he was looking at you sideways, one hand still on your leg and you just looked back at him. The game wasn’t even playing anymore and he was only focused on you now and the way you were looking at him.

His fingers began to tap against your leg, softly caressing every now and then, a small smirk coming to his face. Your brows furrowed, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook said, running a hand over his face. You sat up a bit, “Now you have to tell me.”

“Nothing, it’s just…” he was hesitant, debating if he should be honest or not, “Don’t look at me like that.”

You released a scoff, sitting up further and moving away from him, “Like what?”

“Like you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you right now,” he was serious now as he said and you can see the change in his gaze. You were too stunned to speak, you wanted to say it was unexpected but like… things have felt different lately…

You could see the way his tongue poked against his cheek looking at you with a dazed look in his eyes. You’re not sure what made you say it but you asked, “You want to kiss me?”

Jungkook laughed softly, shifting his eyes to his lap, “Basically.”

You bit down on your lip in thought, quite literally checking him out from head to toe. He was even sitting with his tattooed arm in your view and he’s been rubbing your leg with it this entire time.

This isn’t a good idea.

Jungkook is your friend.

Sure, you’re not mad anymore about whatever happened with you ex, and sure… you haven’t been intimate with someone in a while, and yes Jungkook is attractive from the way his voice sounds to the way he walks but… but he’s your friend.

So why was it so easy for you to say, “So do it then.”

Jungkook didn’t need much else of a sign before he was going for it. He went to cross his end of the couch to yours but before he could get all the way over, you were meeting him halfway with your hands coming around his neck almost immediately. Your lips met so suddenly at first that it was a bit of surprise but neither of you shied away from initiating a kiss.

The first thing he noticed was how soft your lips were against his. They were warm too and your mouth felt so good that Jungkook brought his hand up to your hair so that you couldn’t pull away too soon but you kissed him so eagerly that he doubts that would even happen.

It was just wet and needy, soft sounds coming out whenever his tongue licked along yours. Your arms wrapped around him more and Jungkook was so quick to pull you into him until you were practically stumbling onto his lap. His hands found your waist and he slid them down toward your thighs so he could fix your legs to straddle him, not once pulling his mouth from yours.

Your hairs were in his hair, brushing it out of his face as you attempted to pull away. Jungkook just chased after your lips, feeling the line of split that connected your swollen lips together even when you backed away. He was just as out of breath as you and when your eyes met there was just a small moment of hesitation wondering if this was a good idea or not.

The moment didn’t last long when felt you the slightest hint of excitement in his sweats from the way you straddled him and you couldn’t help but grind your hips down. Jungkook swallowed back a moan with your lips as he kissed you, pulling you back against him so that you could sit directly over his growing erection. His eyes fell shut deepening the kiss with his tongue and yours relishing in your make out and the way your body felt pressed against his.

“Y/n,” his voice was hoarse as his hand slid down to the back of your cotton shorts, thankful for the thin material of them when he groped your ass. You were both in clothes ready for bed and he could still feel you through the layers. Your hair fell to one side as you kissed along the corners of his mouth, a hand flat on his shirt while you trailed down toward his jaw. He licked his dry lips when he felt the tender affections on the angle of his jaw as the hand over his t-shirt ran over his chest. He let his head fall back trying to catch his breath when you playfully nipped at skin, kissing away any pain and sucking lightly.

Both of his hands found your butt, squeezing here and there and tongue kissing you messily. It honestly felt so good and when his hands slid up to lift your shirt a little, you didn’t hesitate to sit back and behind taking it off yourself. His rough hands fell to hold your waist, holding you back as he took in the sight of you. Jungkook would be lying if he said he hasn’t checked you out before. It wasn’t entirely his fault, he had to get you out of wet clothes!—well, okay, yeah it was his fault they were drenched in the first place but his intention wasn’t to see your body.

It just happened and every day after that he had to remind himself that you were a good friend and you were going through it and him getting any feelings for you wouldn’t be good.

A pleased sigh left his lips when your hand began to touch the end of his shirt sliding underneath to run over the ridges of abs you knew he had. You could see them through pretty much every fitted shirt he wore. Even when he wore loose and oversized tees there was no way to hide his back muscles. He was so strong too, you didn’t expect anything less than the taut muscle in his torso and you just could help but want to feel all of it.

Jungkook helped you take his shirt off and it joined yours on the floor before he was leaning forward to kiss your neck. His thick fingers ran along your spine in search for the clip on your bra and swiftly unclasped it, dragging his hands under the material. While doing this, Jungkook begins trailing his kisses down your neck to your shoulder, following the straps down your arms, taking it off you and discarding it so he could touch you without barrier. A soft meowl left your lips when his big hands cupped your breasts and pressed the pad of his thumbs against your rounded nipples smoothly. It didn’t take long for his fingers circling around your nips to turn into his mouth swallowing around one.

“Jungkook,” you whined lightly when he moved his tongue around your erect nipples, you were getting so turned on your core was dripping with need.

Jungkook couldn’t find it in himself to be more patient and once he felt your covered push grinding on his dick, he just has to remove some of the layers between you two. His big hand raised your hips enough with you help so could his sweats down as far as they could and you shift to kneel beside him on the couch watching him undress.

You began taking your shorts off, a small groan leaving his lips at the sight, “You’re not wearing underwear?”

He was wondering why it was so easy for him to grope your ass and feel you so much more and it just made his dick throb with excitement at the sight before him. You nodded your head looking at him with those same eyes that started this in the first place and he felt your hand making its way to his hard cock. His lips parted with a gasp when you took it in your hands, giving one shy stroke right off the bat.

Jungkook didn’t waste a moment hesitating as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer in his side to jerk him off while his other hand began to teasingly run along your inner thighs.

You were soaked and it didn’t go unnoticed by his long fingers. His middle finger ran between your folds teasingly as you made a fist with your small hand and stroked him from his base to his tip making sure to rub against that soft spot and bulging vein. His precum was beginning to dribble out and every now and then you would coat his head with it before flicking your wrist on a downward stroke. Light moans from the both of you filled the room as his fingertips rubbed against your clit, covering it in your slick and swiping all the way to the puddle of wetness at your core. Your lips drew open in a moment when you felt his middle finger begin to tease your entrance and finally push its way in, a thick amount of slick joining him creating a light squelching sound.

You quickly dragged him into a hunger kiss as he began to fuck your with his thick finger while you fisted his cock. Jungkook licked the shell of your ear, “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

His words had you moaning and shaking when his finger became two getting but more rough, even bucking his lips into your hand. Your mouth was permanently open in pleasure as you said, “Do it then.”Jungkook just smirks as he removes his hand so he can pull you up to straddle his lap again but this time feeling your wet push right on top of his fat dick. Jungkook had to bite on his lip to stop from moaning when he felt some of your wetness coat his member as he moved to grip your hip. Your hands went to his shoulders to support yourself as you lifted your hips off his thighs enough for him to align his cock with your entrance, moaning when he ran his tip of your clit, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom, Y/n, fuck.”

“It’s okay.” You moaned as you helped guide him in, “Just pull out.”

Jungkook nodded his head as he finally held you by the waist and helped you down his throbbing dickwith a groan.

"Jungkook," you whined at the stretch and the way he dig his fingertips into your hip bone to steady himself when he pushed through your tight walls. It took you a second to get used to his size but once you had, your hands were on his shoulders and your feet on the couch, raising your hips until only the tip of his cock was inside, and slowly took him all in again. A low groan bubbled up in his throat, sliding his hands down ass, helping you fuck yourself on his hard cock, eyes on your chest which was just right in front of his face.

You were right and your pussy completely coated his dick with your slick that everytime you came up, the slide back down was easier. Your body clung against his as he began to mouth at your exposed neck and collarbone. His legs were spread apart to give you the room and he felt so good inside of you. It hasn’t been a crazy amount of time since you last had sex but it was long enough to make you appreciate Jungkook’s big dick. Your hands were curling into his hair feeling your lower back begin to hurt in this position but he helped you raise and lower your tight pussy on his length. A small gasp left your lips as you felt his tongue tease a hard nipple, licking it expertly before wrapping his lips around it. He had one hand on your other breast and the other hand guiding you to fuck yourself on him. He nipped at the bud playing with it while he twisted and pinched at the other. Your body pressed against his and each time you sank down his cock, you would grind your hips forward humping him and angling yourself where he could feel your folds parting.

Jungkook groped your ass, digging his nails in surely to leave a mark and he raised his hips off the couch enough to fuck into you, ramming his cock in and out with each pretty moan you let out, his mouth was still on your tits so he sounded muffled when he groaned, "So fucking good."

Jungkook left wet, sloppy kisses over your throat, moving his hands to grip your waist harshly. Jungkook's nail dug into your soft flesh as he lifted your hips up and down on his cock hearing you whine tiredly. You were already becoming puddy in his hands and he took it upon himself to wrap your legs around him as he turned your bodies to lay you flat on the couch. A loud moan left your lips with this new angle and now that he was on top, he didn’t ease up his thrusts, only let them get more forceful with more intent. Your nails clawed at his back, running them down toward where his back dimples should be and you practically guided his cock in and out of your wet cunt, making him fuck you more roughly than before.

“Oh my god,” you said breathlessly, throwing your head back against the armrest and looking up so you could try and calm down as he fucked you. He had a hand roughly groping your tits and the other on the back of the couch for support as he thrusted deeply into you, only moving his hips and contracting every muscle to do so, “Fuck, Jungkook, ngh.”

"Just like that," he bit into his lip looking down at how pretty you looked under him, only making his hips move more rapidly, “Take my cock, Y/n.”

You nodded but you couldn’t even look at him as you tried to keep yourself under control by staring up at the ceiling, “S—so close.”

Jungkook groaned when he felt your wet cunt tighten around him making it harder for him to drag his cock out but it made him have to fuck itright back into you with more force. He could feel your ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds and each time was harder to get back out. It was wet and slippery and you were so fucking hot that he knew he wouldn’t last. He dropped his face against your neck, “You’re so good for me, so fucking right goddamn.”

He wasn't going to last much longer either.

He hasn't slept with someone in months and even if he did it didn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel like this because he wants to see you as just a friend but clearly that’s never been the case and if he had deprived himself of feeling your pussy tighten around him, he might’ve gone insane. Your legs wrapped around his waist making him go deeper and you were moaning loudly now, “I’m gon—I’m gonna—oh my god.”

It washed over your writhing body like a wave, Jungkook felt it travel through your body and around his cock till he felt your creamy fluid coat his member. He quickly pulled out with a loud groan as he was unable to stop himself from cunning all over your stomach in thick spirits of semen that made his legs give out and his body pressed against yours. You hugged him closely as the two of you tried to come down, his lips on your neck soothing you down from the highs of climax, “Felt so good.”

“Mhm,” you moaned softly as you unwrapped your legs from around him and let them fall limply, “Fuck.”

Your hand slid between your bodies to touch the muddles of cum be covered you in and it made him pull back enough to see the mess, biting his lip as he attempted to apologize, “Sorry, I was gonna—didn’t have time to—yknow.”

You smiled as you moved to sit up more, “Better me than my couch.”

He let you stand up, moving off of you, “Are you good?”

His hand held yours keeping you from moving and he couldn’t help but look down at your body and the mess he made on your stomach. You nodded your head, “Yeah but I need to clean up, asap, it’s sticky.”

You said it jokingly and he laughed with you, both of you still relishing in what just happened. You released a sigh, “I need a shower, want to join me?”

He nodded, not wasting a second to ponder over it, “Let me help clean up and then I’ll go.”

You left with a nod of your head and Jungkook looked at the mess the two of you made in your living room, already seeing a small stain on the couch.

As he searched for his clothes, the doorbell caught him off guard drawing his attention to the door. Deciding to ignore it so he could join you in the shower, he picked up his things to leave when the doorbell chime turned into a fist against the door and that had him curious. He quickly slipped on his sweats already hearing the shower run and went to answer. It was probably just a delivery or a neighbor complaining about the noise. He didn’t bother with a shirt and his hair was a messy but he didn’t care as he opened the door expecting anyone but the person in front of him.

“Jungkook?”

“Taehyung?” Jungkook looked at the guy in front of him with confusion.

He watched him take a step back as if to make sure the address was right for you and looked back at him, “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I live next door,” Jungkook said dumbly as he attempted to ignore the fact that he was shirtless and sweaty and your ex boyfriend was noting that.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Wait, you’re the one who lives next do—why are you at Y/n’s then?”

Jungkook huffed in annoyance, “Taehyung, come on man… does it really matter? Why are you here?”

“Because I’m hereto talk to her about our relationship—“

That made Jungkook’s jaw clenched at Taehyung’s audacity, “What relationship? The two of you aren’t together.”

“Look, it doesn’t really concern you—why aren’t you wearing a shirt? What the fuck is going on here? Y/n?!” Taehyung tried getting through Jungkook to enter your apartment but he didn’t let him. Fuck no. He was not going to let Taehyung come in and ruin everything that has just happened between you. “Taehyung, don’t. You dumped Y/n just get out of here.”

Taehyung scoffed loudly, Oh, I fucking knew something was going on between you two at the party. You didn’t even hide it!”

“You have no idea what you’re even talking abou—“

“Why are you at my ex’s house?” Taehyung asked abruptly as he stood directly in front of Jungkook’s face, both equal in height.

Jungkook scoffed as he glared at his ex friend; “Taehyung, not everything is about you so get over yourself and just go already. Y/n does not want anything to do with you.”

That only seemed to piss Taehyung off more as he scoffed and said, “Oh I get it now, you slept Y/n… Is that what you’re doing here? To sleep with my ex?”

Jungkook was starting to get pissed, rightfully so in his opinion and he wants nothing more than to get this guy out, “I’m not saying it again, Taehyung, just go before Y/n gets out of the shower.”

Unbeknownst to either of them that you had already turned off the water early once you heard the banging on your front door and the muffled voices.

“So you did!?” Taehyung ignored his warning to accuse him further, “Was this your plan all along? You wanted to get back at me by fucking my ex? I didn’t realize you’re still not over what happened with Minsu. Come on Kook, that was years ago, did you really need to go this far? I still care about Y/n.”

That passed Jungkook off and he’s never been in a fight with anyone he considered a friend once before and right now he’s very close to doing it, “I’m not you! This has nothing to do with you or Minsu and stop lying. You don’t care about Y/n! You just found out her and I were close and suddenly you wanted to call dibs on her again? Jeez, you’re still the selfish asshole you’ve always been.”

“Fuck you, Jungkook. You’re just jealous, you’ve always been jealous. Yeah, I slept with the girl you liked but it wasn’t enough to stop being my friend!? Yes, I knew how much you liked her but it’s not my fault she got in my bed! How do you think Y/n is going to feel when she finds out you only slept with her to get back at me?” Taehyung as so cocky when he spoke and Jungkook was seriously beginning to lose his patience.

“That’s not tru—“

“What?”

The two men immediately looked behind Jungkook where you stood in a bathrobe that Taehyung recognized immediately at what had just happened between you and Jungkook.

“Y/n…” the both said and Taehyung took a step inside when Jungkook’s guard was down and a smile threatened to appear on his face when you looked at him.

“Taehyung, what did you just say?” You asked and Jungkook immediately felt his heart drop.

He took a cautious step toward you, wondering how much you heard, “Y/n don’t listen to him, he’s lying and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“It’s true, That's probably why the two of you got clo—“ Taehyung tried to say only for your sharp tone to snap them both silent with surprise.

“Get out.”

His brows scrunched together in confusion, “What? No, I’m here to talk about us.”

You just rolled your eyes, “Well I don’t want to talk to you Taehyung, so get out.”

“Y/n—“

“Taehyung! Get out, I don’t know what you were hoping for coming here but I want you to leave,” you said louder now and there was no denying the finality in your tone that had your ex backing down reluctantly. When he looked at Jungkook it was like the final straw to push him over the edge and he stormed back out leaving the two of you alone, silent.

Jungkook was trying to get closer to you but also unsure if it’s what you wanted as he said a soft, “Y/n…”

“You too, Jungkook, just go.”

He knew he should just do as you say but that kind of hurt his feelings considering just a few minutes again he made you cum with his cock and he gathered the strength to say, “No.”

You released a deep sigh, turning to sit on the couch still without a thorough shower, “Jungkook, I want to be alone so please just go.”

You just needed time to yourself to think. You had no plans of getting back with Taehyung and him coming over just surprised the fuck out of you. On top of that you just had sex with someone who’s your friend and who’s helped you get over the break up and although it seems like just a rebound, it didn’t feel that way.

Jungkook stood before you, “No, I’m not leaving because I’m not letting you think for even one second that what he said is true. I didn’t sleep with you to get back at him. I couldn’t care less about Taehyung and the only reason I even thought about that guy again was because of yo—“

“I know.”

Your soft tone surprised him and he found himself stuttering out, “… you do?”

You nodded your head, running a nervous hand over your hair, “I mean, I know you — I think — you’re not the type of guy to do that…”

His heart raced in relief as he moved to sit next to you, “I’m really not, Y/n. You know me, I like staying out of the drama and with him, that’s all you get. I wouldn’t have even bothered to acknowledge him if it weren’t for you.”

“Jungkook…”

He leaned forward so that you were forced to look at him as he said, “Y/n, listen to me, okay? I like you… I know we just… y’know, but It’s not because I wanted to get revenge. That’s petty. I’ve been hanging out with you all the time because I enjoy it. You’re a hot mess and crazy and loud and the complete opposite of what I thought you’d be but… but I’m cool with you, y’know? I put up with all your late night meltdowns and early morning hunger because I wanted to spend time with you—I literally jumped in the pool with you so we can be fools together—why are you laughing?”

It was hard to ignore the way you smiled and fought back a laugh as he talked and it confused the hell out of him that he had to ask. You just sighed, “Because you don’t have to explain yourself, Kook. I mean, you’re right, I’m a hot mess…”

He shook his head, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I kinda like it… it’s exciting and you have good intentions and you’re not vindictive and you don’t really care what others think of you and I want you to know that you’re literally always on my mind but I tried to tell myself I just wanted to be friends but… look, I don’t expect you to feel the same even after tonight but I just want you to see that I really do like you, all of you, there’s nothing I want to change.”

You were still smiling as you slouched back on the couch that he just fucked you on, “You know, you’ve gotta be the only person who’s ever said that to me. Do you really mean it?”

He scoffed with a laugh, “No shit, Y/n. You stress me out in the best way possible.”

“That’s because you know me like no other and you aren’t trying to change me, you’re seeing me for me. I’m crazy into you,” you confessed, surprising yourself and him.

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

He gulped in thought, “Y/n, if we can just look past whatever drama just happened and try, but I get it if you don’t want to—I mean, I get it, honestly, you just got out of a relationship and getting with me right away probably won’t look good to others and if you’re not ready I get it but—“

You sighed, “Who cares what other people say?”

You don’t, not anymore. It’s just exhausting to always be thinking about others and right now you rather focus on yourself and who makes you happy and right now that’s Jungkook even if you hadn’t admitted it before.

“Y/n…”

“Jungkook, I don’t know about y’know, dating yet but… but I really do like you and I don’t care what other people say anyway. Can we maybe take things slow?” You asked shyly as his hand fell over yours to hold it.

He nodded, eyes looking down at your lips and watching you bite down on them. He took a deep breath feeling you move closer and he had to move back, “Y/n… we can’t take things slow if you try to kiss me.”

You sat back in surprise, “Why’s that?”

He chuckled softly, “Because I won’t be able to stop.”

“It’s okay, we can just cuddle then—that is, of course, if you don’t put a pillow fort between us again,” you said to him as you leaned into his side.

“Listen, I was being considerate about the fact I had a drunk girl crawl into my bed looking too cute in my shirt,” Jungkook said honestly as he helped you snuggle against him.

“Ah, so you’ve always had a thing for me? You sure you didn’t plot this?” You teased.

Jungkook scoffed as he poked your side, “Shut up, I did not, I just… maybe a little?—I mean you try and involve yourself with someone as crazy and fun as you and try not to fall for them!”

“Gross,” you joked, “I didn’t realize you’ve been obsessed with me this whole time.”

“Oh shut up.”

::.

just lyk It’s highly unedited 💀💀💀I forced myself to finish it this morning but anyways idk I love a good idiots to lovers but maybe that’s just me. also imagine jk as your friend and neighbor?

and his ass really did jump in that pool with y/n so she would get mad at him and forget about Tae

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

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seesawsatan · 2 months ago

Text

paper hearts and answer sheets

The low hum of chatter, the occasional clink of soda bottles, and the warm smell of takeout filled the shared apartment Jungkook called home. It wasn’t fancy, mismatched cushions, half-assembled IKEA furniture, a BTS poster half peeling off the wall — but it was home. And right now, it was also buzzing with energy, thanks to the full lineup of BTS members hanging around.

Jungkook’s knee bounced nervously as he glanced at the door.

“She’s late,” he muttered, earning a smirk from Jimin who was sprawled on the floor, lazily tossing popcorn into his mouth.

“She’s probably just nervous. You did say this is your first proper date night with her,” Namjoon offered, leaning back into the couch with a book still open in his hands.

“It’s not a date,” Jungkook said quickly. “It’s just... she’s meeting you guys. It’s casual.”

“Casual with all of us? That’s terrifying,” Yoongi deadpanned.

Then the buzzer rang.

Jungkook jumped to his feet. “She’s here.”

He rushed to open the door, revealing a petite girl with a nervous smile and wide eyes — Jiwon. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sweater, and her lips parted like she was about to say something, but then lost the words.

“Hey,” Jungkook said softly, smiling. “You look cute.”

She visibly relaxed. “Hi... thanks.”

He brought her in, and all at once, the noise turned into chaos. Introductions flew, hugs were offered, jokes cracked. Jiwon was trying her best not to melt into the floor. Then she noticed something odd — sneakers by the door, neatly lined up. Women’s sneakers.

Before she could ask, a door creaked open from down the hallway. A woman emerged — tall, black sweatpants, messy bun, oversized hoodie that probably belonged to Jungkook at some point. She had a red pen tucked behind her ear and a sleepy look in her eyes.

“Hey,” she said to the room. “Who left the cereal open again? I swear if the ants come back—”

“Not me!” Jungkook raised both hands.

“Wasn’t even here,” Jin chimed in.

Then she turned to Jungkook, eyes briefly landing on Jiwon. “Guest?”

“Oh— yeah. This is Jiwon. My—uh, girlfriend.”

Soyeon gave a short nod. “Cool. I’m Soyeon. Don’t mind the mess in the hallway, I was grading and spilled coffee on a whole stack of essays. Fun times.”

Then she disappeared back into her room, door shutting with a click.

Jiwon blinked. Girlfriend?

Who is that woman?

Why does she live here?

Why is she in sweatpants?

Why does she have coffee-stained homework?

The questions piled up in her head like traffic at rush hour. But she didn’t know how to ask without sounding jealous or weird. So she stayed quiet.

“Hyung, do we still have that frozen dumpling pack?” Jungkook yelled from the kitchen.

“I think Yoongi hid it behind the beer,” Hoseok called back.

While chaos ensued over food prep, Taehyung drifted quietly toward the hallway. No one noticed. Except Jiwon.

She watched him knock gently on the door. It opened, and Soyeon appeared again, red pen still in hand. No words passed between them that she could hear, but he slid inside, and the door closed behind him.

“Does... does Taehyung know her?” Jiwon asked, eyes darting to Jungkook.

“Huh? Yeah. They’ve hung out before,” Jungkook said absentmindedly as he searched for soy sauce.

Jiwon stared at the closed door. Her curiosity now morphed into something that buzzed under her skin.

After a while, when dinner plans were finally sorted (a chaotic fusion of dumplings, ramen, and “whatever we find in the fridge”), Jungkook knocked on Soyeon’s door.

“Hey, we’re starting food prep. You want dumplings or kimchi stew?”

Soyeon looked up from her grading. Taehyung was lounging on her bed, flipping through a notebook filled with sarcastic teacher doodles.

She got up, stretching. “Surprise me.”

“Okay— wait, come meet Jiwon properly.”

“Right,” she smirked. “Let’s interrogate the child.”

Jiwon, still nervously holding a plate of cut veggies, jumped a little when she saw Soyeon emerge from the hallway with Jungkook.

“Hey again,” Soyeon said, plopping down beside her. “You’re Jiwon?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean— not ma’am. Just yes. I’m Jiwon.”

Soyeon raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re cute. Nervous. But cute.”

Jiwon chuckled, unsure whether to feel comforted or more on edge.

“So,” Soyeon started, picking up a cucumber slice and examining it like it held secrets, “how long have you been seeing my idiot cousin?”

“Uh… about a month.”

“A month and you’re already at the inner sanctum of BTS chaos?”

Jiwon smiled shyly. “He insisted.”

“I’m surprised you survived the first ten minutes. Jungkook brings home girls like it’s a talent show sometimes. You must be special.”

Jiwon blinked. “W-what?”

“Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.” Soyeon popped the cucumber into her mouth.

Jungkook groaned. “Noona...”

“I’m just testing her composure,” she replied. “And she’s passing.”

Jiwon finally laughed. “I think I like you.”

“Dangerous words. You haven’t seen me when I’m on my grading warpath.”

Right on cue, she left and returned with a terrifying stack of answer sheets, some already crumpled, many bleeding red ink.

“Alright, let’s play a game,” Soyeon said, dropping the papers on the table like it was poker night. “Guess what this kid meant by ‘The French Revolution was caused by France wanting to become Italy.’”

Everyone burst into laughter.

“Oh my god— what?” Namjoon asked, practically choking.

“I have so many of these,” she said, flipping pages like a magician.

“‘A triangle is just a confused circle’... What the hell does that even mean?” Jimin read, horrified and impressed.

“I swear, grading is the best comedy show I didn’t ask to attend,” Soyeon sighed dramatically.

Jiwon leaned in, peeking at the mess of notes and doodles. “Wait, did this kid draw an anime duck fighting Napoleon?”

“Yes. And somehow it earned a B-minus because the historical context was accidentally correct.”

Everyone laughed again, and the evening softened. Jiwon’s nerves ebbed away under the warmth of jokes, teasing, and the occasional sarcastic roast from Soyeon.

Later, as they ate dumplings in the cramped kitchen, Jiwon nudged Jungkook.

“She’s awesome.”

He smiled, watching Soyeon mock Taehyung over his terrible chopstick skills.

“Yeah,” he said fondly. “She really is.”

#taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #friends to lovers #slow burn #mutual pining #emotional damage but fluffy #kdrama vibes #sibling dynamics #soft romance

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orchidyoonkook · 9 months ago

Text

PG | KTH

Title: PG

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm trying to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.

Every time you could get it.

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.

For four years.

And then the university swim team.

For another four.

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.

Thank god for sunglasses.

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.

And it works like a charm.

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that.

Definitely not.

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over his shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.

And yet.

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.

But you push him away.

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t.

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend.

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more.

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.

Because Fourteen isn't here.

And old habits die hard.

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.

Safe.

You’re safe.

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.

It’s private.

It’s safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.

Oh you are so fucked.

“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.

It makes you smile wickedly.

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.

Yet.

“Can you behave for that long?”

You smirk.

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.

Mesmerizing.

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you.

Taehyung.

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.

Wants you.

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.

Blissful.

Then pushes back in, methodically.

Torturous.

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.

It’s a great move but it’s exerting.

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.

Before consequences kick in and regrets form.

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.

“All of it. Any of it.”

There.

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.

An idea strikes.

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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bunnyhugs77 · 1 year ago

Text

Valentine Vixen

★Pairing: Stripper! Reader x Rich! Jungkook

★Happy Valentine's Day, Mwah

★WC: 3k

★Content: some fluff, clubbing, jk is so cute, he gets flustered, teasing, mutual pining, ft player! tae, reader is so hot, mentions of break ups, lap dances, double life, suggestive themes, a smidge of angst, brief psychology talk, mentions of boobs.

Other Content: desperate kisses, domme reader, hand jobs, grinding, almost cumming in pants, oral sex (m! receiving), subby jk. handcuffs, desperate jk, reader is a tease, nicknames, manhandling

"Look, that's her." With a subtle jut of his head, Jungkook directs Taehyung's line of sight about twenty meters off into the distance where you step up on the step ladder to shelve more novels.

Tae's eyes widen ever so slightly before his face relaxes into an all-knowing smirk, "So this is what's got you spending so much time at the library lately?" Jungkook shoves him in the side and you pretend not to notice the two of them obviously staring at you.

Letting your short acrylics graze over the spines of the paperbacks, pinpointing where the book in your hand should go. "I can't see her face from here, but I know a nice ass when I see one," Tae states obnoxiously and it makes Jungkook's face turn sour.

"C'mon, Tae." The elder rolls his eyes, "Lighten up. It's just a joke. Hopefully, tomorrow will help you chill out a bit." With an arched brow, Jungkook turns to face his best friend. "Tomorrow?"

"It's Valentine's Day, and I think it's about time you got some ass, Kook. Seriously, when's the last time you had a nice pair of tits in your face, huh?" Jungkook's cheeks flush but he does think about Tae's question.

After no more than a second had passed Tae interrupted his thoughts, "See. You can't even remember, don't worry. That's why I'm here. You're bound to get your dick wet at Red Haven tomorrow, the dancers there are next level." Tae raves, hands waving around to express his eagerness.

Red Haven was the new club that opened not too far from campus but it attracted a lot more than just some touch-deprived university students. Men were ranging from the ages of twenty-one to sixty-five.

"But-" Jungkook was about to object but Tae had picked up a call, reassuring the person on the other end of the line, "Maria, you know you're the only girl in my life." He coos and his face freezes, "Oh shit, this is Jessica? Baby, I was just joking. I don't even know a Maria." Tae walks off trying to save himself from the deep hole he'd dug himself into.

Leaving Jungkook at the table by himself once again, his eyes naturally gliding back to where you once were but he couldn't see you. His feet guided his brain over to the bookshelves where you once stocked away hardcovers.

He stops in his tracks as he lays his eyes on a certain book that caught his eye.

In your head

"That's a good choice." You startled him, the book slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground. The two of you reach down for it at the same time which in practicality wasn't a good idea. The impact of your heads colliding nearly knocked you to your feet.

"I'm so sorry," He apologizes, gaze checking in on you while you worked on picking up the novel off the floor. "I should be the one saying that. I didn't mean to scare you." You say, finally making eye contact and nothing could stop Jungkook from holding his breath.

You're breathtaking.

Beautiful dark brown eyes that held the most innocently seductive eye contact. The way your tan skin dimpled in your cheeks and the perfect formation of waves that your hair mimicked as it flowed down your shoulders.

"I've seen you around here a few times but I never got your name." Jungkook does his best to be subtle as he fishes for your name. It wasn't exactly the most discreet but you think it was a cute effort.

"I'm Y/n," You smile, handing him the book back and he just about collapses inside. Anything you wanted he would give it to you, and he's rich, he could make it happen. God, he would make sure you never had to lift a finger around him.

"I'm J-" It seems he didn't need to introduce himself because you already seemed to know him. "-Jungkook, right? The Dean's son." He sighs, of course.

That's how everyone knew him.

Being the son of the dean at the most prestigious university in the country wasn't something easy to escape. It continued to precede him anywhere he went. "Have you read it?" Your perfectly manicured finger points towards the book now in his possession and he nods.

"It's incredible, the way it examines the interplay between conscious and unconscious desires. I think it's pretty amazing." You blink once, then twice. "Don't pin me for the reading type, right?"

"Honestly, no, but trust me, I'm the last person who should be judging based on first impressions." He smiles at the sound of your soft chuckle. "Do you like psychology?" Your gaze now focused back to the shelves, "I hope so, I wouldn't want to be taking that major and not like it." You turn to him.

"You're a psychology major?" The tone of your voice gave away your disbelief but he wanted to know why this was so shocking.

"Yeah?"

"Weird. Usually, we would've had at least one class together if we shared the same major." He swallows thickly, briefly zoning out because he realizes he is talking to you. Finally, after months of watching you from a distance, trying to work up the nerve to approach you.

Getting too stuck in his thoughts, he loses his ability to speak. Settling for a hum of agreement. You sigh, disappointed. "What a shame. I would've liked having a cutie in my class like you." Your finger gently traces along his jaw and it feels like fire against his skin.

Before he could blink you were strutting away. Hips swaying like you were on a runway, he licks his lips. He'd never fumbled so badly before, but your beauty was something entirely different. It made him disoriented. He needed to get a grip.

Who would've thought the cute library assistant was so...tempting?

★★★

"Hey, Kook! I don't know If I'll be able to stay with you much longer. The bartender is giving crazy fuck me eyes and I can't leave her disappointed now can I?" Tae grabs his friends by the shoulder amidst the crowd of moving bodies.

"What about Maria?" Jungkook questions, referring to the woman Tae had spent all day before this one buttering up in hopes she would forgive him. Tae shrugs, "She'll forgive me again." Jungkook scoffs as he watches the silver-haired man travel through the sea of bodies.

Sometimes he couldn't believe that was his best friend, but he had to remember he wasn't always like this. This was just some terrible hoe phase he was going through.

He had gotten out of a 3-year-long relationship with Yara no more than 3 months ago and he's been on some sort of fucking spree ever since. He claims he feels so 'free' but deep down he was hurting and Jungkook knew that, but Tae refused to admit it.

But what could he do? It was a canon event and he couldn't interfere, even though he tried to once. Didn't end well. Tae was on a hunt for as many women as he could get, and he knew that eventually he would get sick of it and regain his senses.

His mind was pulled out of his thoughts once the entire venue went black for a few moments and the music was shut off. Jungkook was confused, maybe even a bit scared but it seemed there was no need to be as the crowd roared to life.

It seems they knew something he didn't.

"Introducing Red Haven's Vixens!" The announcer's voice rang through the speakers but the crowd was so much louder.

Jungkook was deep into the middle section of the audience so it was hard for him to get a clear view of the stage but he could see eight beautiful women walking onto the stage, in outfits he could probably use to floss.

There were so many colours on the stage. It was as if he'd died and been brought to the end of the rainbow where the sexiest guardian angels waited to bring him to heaven. Although there was one that piqued his interest.

All the girls were wearing some form of unique face paint that was accessorized with rhinestones, each one matching the general colour scheme of their outfits. There was something about the girl in the hot pink two-piece.

Jungkook fought to make his way to the front, face now up close to the base of the stage, looking up to the woman with hearts in his eyes. The way her hips swayed with the music, and her ass jiggled with each sharp movement.

She was a natural, with one hand on the pole she leaned back, looking right into the crowd. Her eyes scanned for a target before they landed on Jungkook as she began to grind your hips down onto it, making such a lewd expression.

She bit her lip and furrowed her brows just like one would as if they were close to- A shock ran through his body. It was you. Even with the gems and the paint around your eyes, he knew it was you, and by the slight smirk that crept up your lips, you knew he recognized you.

Once the performance was over Jungkook had found his way back to the front counter, eyes desperately scanning over the list of private sessions they offered. "How much would it cost for a room with the girl in pink?"

The clerk reminds Jungkook, "A private session grants you a private dance from one of our vixens. No touching of any kind is permitted unless granted by the Vixen, you must-" The rest of the rules were no brainers and Jungkook desperately wished he could fast forward the long speech.

"Got it. How much?"

"Well, Destiny is our Vixen of the highest demand, a 10-minute session could cost you up to five hundre-" Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. "I'll give you a thousand." He interrupts and the woman's jaw drops. She promptly hands him the key, "Third door on your left."

He'd been sitting in the nicely decorated room for the last five minutes. He was sitting on the chair that faced the door, his right leg bouncing uncontrollably. He was so nervous, and if he was being honest, he was already sporting a semi just from the thought of you walking through that door any second now.

The lights in the room flickered from the bright blue as it strobed to a gentle purple before a deep pink. The door opened, and there you were. In the same outfit you'd worn on stage except this time the music had changed to Wild Side.

"It is you." Jungkook gasps cutely as you take confident strides towards him. "Right, you are." Your heels made you tower over him once you stood before him.

"B-But- why?" You laugh, "The same reason why billions of other people have jobs. I've got an expensive tuition that won't pay for itself." He frowns, speaking before thinking. "I'll pay for it." You give him a playful roll of your eyes before you bend at the waist, bringing your face close to his.

"You're lucky you're so cute." The mere proximity was making Jungkook's brain get mushy and hazy with lust. He wanted you so badly, would do absolutely anything to have to, anything you said.

"Now, let me see those hands." You order and just like a dog to its owner, he follows instructions immediately, his hands out in front of you and you slowly walk around him, taking one hand then the other and handcuffing them behind his back.

He doesn't even remember seeing you walk in with handcuffs then again there was a lot about tonight that he didn't see coming. Like how smoothly you were able to straddle his lap and begin a slow, deep grind.

"So I really can't touch you at all?" Your heart skipped a beat at the way he was almost pouting when he said it. "You can try, but it's so much more fun this way. Watching you struggle to touch me." Your voice is as gentle as a whisper that should've been lost over the music but it was spoken right into his ear.

The feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear sends the hairs on the back of his hair to stand, and goosebumps to raise. He was rock solid in his jeans, although you already knew that. You could feel it. With every sensual roll of your hips, the man beneath you became a little more whiny.

"Do you think about me touching you?" Whipping your hair to the side as you leaned down intentionally close to his neck, making sure he felt your presence all over. His hips stutter under your set pace and it caused you to jolt slightly, "Fuck yes- Every day." He answers. Voice empty and high-pitched.

"Yeah?" You slowly slide off him, and let your knees hit the soft cushioned floor. You weren't doing anything, simply resting your arms on his knees and letting your head rest innocently on your hands.

How dare you look up at him like such an angel while you tempted him with a world of sin.

"Tell me, what do I do to you?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he feels your hand slowly glide up the inseam of his jeans. "You-" He gets distracted, losing his train of thought the moment your hand gently squeezes the thick muscle of his thigh, "Shit. You take my cock in your mouth and you suck me off until-" you squeeze his thigh once again, a little tighter this time.

"Hm? Until what? Until you cum in my mouth? Or on my chest?" Leaning back up, making an intimidating eye contact that Jungkook was unable to hold. "Look at me, Kookie." God. That nickname was so belittling, made him feel like he was being teased, but oh how he loved it.

"Until What? Say it." You grit, your hand holding his face, just firm enough for your middle finger and thumb to press into his cheeks. "Until I cum in your mouth and you swallow it." He looked so ashamed to say it, but it only caused you to grin bigger.

"Can I touch you, Kookie?"

He nods, nods and nods. "Please." His voice was a mere whisper, and at a certain pause during the music, you could hear him fighting against his restraints.

Back on your knees, your hands worked skillfully on getting him out of his pants and pulling how his briefs, just low enough for his throbbing dick to be released. Already budding with precum, some of it sticking to the base of his shirt as it rests against his abdomen.

"Nice cock." You almost wanted to laugh at the cliché, but it was true. Jungkook really had the prettiest dick you'd ever laid your eyes on, and he was big too.

He doesn't respond, eyes focused on your every move while his cheeks tinted red. He was anticipating for the contact between your hand and his length, but he still wasn't prepared.

Sucking in a sharp breath as he watched you spit on it and proceed to flash him the most charming smile he'd ever seen. You wanted to kill him, and Jungkook was afraid you'd succeed.

Your hand languidly rose from base to tip, working him up but he didn't need that, he wanted to last. His hips bucked up with every motion of your hands, "Relax," You coo, hand continuing its ministrations while Jungkook's head fell back. Hands still fighting against the cuffs desperately.

"a-ah." he moans so sweetly as your lips unexpectedly place a chaste kiss on his tip. Eyes shooting wide open, "Shit- 'm not gonna last." He warns but you continue anyway. Letting your tongue swirl around his tip like your favourite popsicle.

"Y/n-" His groans became more breathless and frequent, "Oh shit- Y/n-" Being ambitious you relaxed your throat and took deep breaths through your nose as you deepthroated his length. Fondling his balls in your left hand as you continued to work the base that you couldn't fit with your right.

That was it for him.

Jungkook's hot cum was filling your mouth with no further warning and the sound of the clashing metal rang in your ears, you grin. Looking up at the man who you've just ruined.

He blinks down at you with no thoughts behind his eyes, you maintain eye contact and swallow. He groans; and just to make sure you made his dreams come true, you stick out your tongue when you're done.

You stand, and the song changes once more, now playing sex with me.

How fitting, you think.

You uncuff Jungkook's wrists and with all the strength in his body, he tugs you back down to his lap. "Let me kiss you," A big strong man like him had just manhandled you to his will yet here he was still asking for your permission.

Good boys deserve treats.

You lean in, tilting your head to the side as your lips meet in a lustful exchange of saliva and desperation. This was all Jungkook needed. His hands unconsciously roamed down your backside until they found comfort on the soft flesh of your ass. Giving it a confident grip, you moaned into the kiss.

The two of you hardly pulled away, kissing like you wanted to become one. The way your body rolled against his and he pushed up into you.

"Can I fuck you?" He looked up to you with stars in his eyes and he was just the cutest thing, just as you wanted to answer, the lights strobe back to their default blue colour.

Slowly, you dismount him. Pretending that you weren't soaking through your costume. "Next time," You leaned down to drop a kiss on his cheek and begin to make your way out, "Happy Valentine's Day." You flash him one last wink and walk out of sight.

Happy Valentine's Day ♡

#jungkook smut #bts #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jungkook fic recs #jungkook #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #valentines day #btsscenarios #btssmuts #jeon jungguk #bts imagines #bts fic recs

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captain-joongz · 1 year ago

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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17

regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected

choi seungcheol

◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers

♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan

idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader

☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks

brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers

♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism

brother's best friend to lovers au

kim mingyu

☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji

virgin!mingyu x experienced reader

♤ creep by @smileysuh

serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic

ot8

◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

a/b/o, cnc, primal play

♧ sharing = caring by @cbini

bf!chan sharing you

☆ camcorder by @tasteracha

bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader

◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat

chan x felix x reader, threesome

lee minho

♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi

dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

bang chan

☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs

step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity

hwang hyunjin

♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics

best friends to lovers, mutual pining

lee felix

◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz

best friends to lovers, fluffy smut

♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz

☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium

coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex

ot7

♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx

supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au

◇ masked miracles by @remedyx

hybrid!bts, detective!reader

♧ stay alive by @staytinyville

mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au

☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades

hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes

♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane

dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au

◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces

hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader

♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz

hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers

♧ oh, little red by @jincherie

wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au

min yoongi

☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx

fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc

♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis

fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader

kim taehyung

◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink

step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con

♧ black swan by @aris-ink

step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating

☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd

alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex

jeon jungkook

♤ family secrets by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, dry humping

◇ icarus by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex

♧ close by @aft3rhrs

step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance

choi soobin

☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris

soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play

♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar

soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin

◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu

shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader

♧ i <3 nerds by @enha-cafe

nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au

multiple members

☆ drippin' by @ncteez

'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy

♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy

step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au

♧ sos by @neopuppy

a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut

lee jeno

☆ shameless by @neopuppy

step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con

♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies

roommates au, hand kink

lee mark

◇ i can help by @recklessmark

step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2

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someonegoood · 4 months ago

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THE CORPORATE EQUATION sweet epilouge ✫ jeon jungkook

the company heads out for a corporate retreat, where tensions run high and personal boundaries blur. During a casual evening event, the HR team inadvertently discovers the secret relationship between you and Jungkook.

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 @radcustoms @minniejim @jeonzll @vantelover1306 @bgfdcvbnjk @mar-lo-pap @lmaothv @jksusawife @thatgirliehan @rayyrayy10 @lovingkoalaface <3

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

The private resort was a picture of luxury—secluded, sprawling, and nestled between mountains and a crystal-clear lake. It was meant to be a “corporate retreat,” a weekend of bonding and strategizing between the HR and PR teams, with the CEOs in attendance to ensure productivity.

In reality, it was an excuse for overworked employees to drink expensive wine on the company’s dime while pretending to network.

And, unfortunately for you, it also meant being stuck in the same space as Jungkook for an entire weekend—with no desks, boardrooms, or email chains to act as a buffer.

The HR and PR teams were already packed onto the large charter bus by the time you arrived, hurrying down the aisle in search of a seat. Unfortunately, it seemed every spot had been taken—except one.

Right next to Jeon Jungkook. Great.

Jungkook, dressed in a black hoodie and ripped jeans, barely spared you a glance as he scrolled through something on his phone.

“Uh… there aren’t any other seats,” you muttered, gripping the headrest beside him.

He exhaled through his nose, then shifted slightly, gesturing to the open space next to him. “Sit.”

You hesitated for half a second before sliding in, careful not to brush against him. But the space between seats was too small, and despite your best efforts, your thigh pressed against his.

Jungkook stiffened but didn’t say anything. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from his body. This was ridiculous. It was just a bus ride.

Minji, sitting a few rows ahead, turned and wiggled her brows at you. You shot her a glare. The bus rumbled to life, and soon, the city blurred into the countryside. Conversations hummed around you, but in your little corner, silence stretched.

Until Jungkook spoke.

“You’re fidgeting.”

You glanced up, caught off guard. “Huh?”

He tapped his thigh. “Your leg. You keep moving it.”

Heat crept up your neck. “I—Sorry.”

You stilled, but then the bus hit a bump, and you really didn’t have a choice but to press into him. Jungkook tensed. His jaw ticked.

“Relax,” he muttered after a beat, voice lower than usual. “It’s not a big deal.”

Not a big deal? Easy for him to say.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead as your heart pounded against your ribs. It was going to be a long ride.

The night was warm, and the resort’s pool was dimly lit, the water reflecting the soft golden glow of the nearby lights. Jungkook leaned against the edge, half-submerged, the cool water doing little to dispel the heat curling in his stomach.

Because you were there. Laughing. Smiling. Completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

You had arrived late, dressed in a sleek black swimsuit that made his throat dry. The HR team had cheered when you finally joined them, and he had tried—really tried—to keep his eyes off you.

It didn’t work.

Especially not when you waded into the pool, water gliding up your body, trailing over your skin in ways that made his fingers twitch.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, forcing himself to look away.

“Bro, you’re staring.”

Taehyung’s voice snapped him out of it. He turned to find his friend floating lazily beside him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Jungkook scowled. “Shut up.”

Taehyung chuckled, but before he could say more, a splash of water hit them both.

“Oops,” you said, all faux innocence, blinking at Jungkook through your lashes. “Was that too much?”

Jungkook raised a brow. “You did that on purpose.”

You smirked. “Maybe.”

Something hot and dangerous curled in his chest. Oh, so that’s how you wanted to play this?

Without a word, he lunged—water sloshing as he grabbed your wrist and tugged, sending you tumbling toward him with a yelp. The movement was quick, effortless.

Suddenly, you were pressed against his chest, eyes wide, breath hitched.

Jungkook smirked, voice low. “Still feeling playful?”

Your lips parted, but before you could respond, Minho’s voice rang out.

“Hey! No making out in the pool!”

Laughter erupted. You pushed away from Jungkook, face burning, while he merely leaned back against the edge, looking far too pleased with himself.

Yeah. This weekend was dangerous.

The resort’s garden was quiet, the scent of blooming flowers lingering in the cool evening air. You strolled along the path, enjoying the peace—until you spotted Jungkook leaning against a wooden railing, watching the koi pond.

Alone. You smirked, perfect.

“CEO Jeon,” you drawled, stepping beside him. “Brooding again?”

He didn’t look away. “Thinking.”

“About?”

“You.”

You blinked. Heat flooded your face. “What?”

Jungkook finally turned, lips twitching. “You’re easy to fluster.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. "I hate you."

Jungkook smirked, the glow of the lanterns catching the sharp curve of his lips. "No, you don’t."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "I came here for peace, not to be bullied."

He tilted his head slightly, dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Funny. I thought you came here looking for me."

Your stomach flipped. The way he said it—low, teasing, dangerous—made heat creep up your neck.

Before you could retaliate, a voice cut through the still night air.

"Jungkook!"

You stiffened. Eunji.

She walked toward you both, poised and effortless, her form-fitting dress swaying around her thighs. She wasn’t out of breath, wasn’t rushing. No—Eunji never rushed. She moved like she owned every room she entered. And worst of all? Jungkook didn’t immediately tell her to leave.

Your stomach twisted.

“I was looking for you,” she said smoothly, barely sparing you a glance. Then, with a practiced smile, she added, “Didn’t expect to find you here.”

With her.

The unspoken words lingered, thick as smoke in the air.

Your mood soured instantly.

Jungkook, oblivious—or maybe just indifferent—to the sudden shift in energy, raised a brow. “What do you need?”

Eunji stepped closer, closing the space between them. Then, as if it was nothing, she laid a hand on his arm.

Your breath hitched.

“Just a quick chat about the PR strategy,” she murmured, her fingers grazing his sleeve like she had every right to touch him. Like it was normal. Casual. Expected.

Something bitter curled in your chest. Seriously? She couldn’t have waited? You clenched your fists at your sides, willing yourself to stay calm.

Forcing a tight, polite smile, you cleared your throat. “I should go.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his focus snapping back to you. “You don’t have to—”

But you were already turning away. And when you glanced back, Eunji was still touching him.

Still smiling up at him like she belonged there. Your chest ached.

Jealousy was an ugly thing.

The scent of burning wood curling into the cool evening air as the flames from the bonfire flickered against the dark sky. The corporate retreat had been filled with structured team-building exercises and tedious strategy meetings, but this—this was the first moment that truly felt alive.

People gathered in clusters, some perched on wooden benches, others sprawled out on blankets across the grass. Laughter echoed around the open-air patio, the sound of clinking glasses blending with the low hum of conversation.

You glanced across the bonfire-lit patio, where your HR team—Soojin, Dohyun, Minji, and Minho—were deep in conversation, laughing over something Minho had said. Further down, Hajun, Jungkook’s ever-efficient assistant, was nursing a glass of whiskey while keeping a watchful eye on his boss.

Jungkook, for his part, had claimed one of the large wooden logs arranged in a circle around the fire, lounging with an effortless kind of ease that contrasted sharply with the tension you felt coiling in your stomach. He was surrounded by his cousins, Seokjin and Yoongi, both looking equally relaxed.

Seokjin, as usual, had taken up the role of storyteller, gesturing wildly as he spun some exaggerated tale from their childhood, much to Yoongi’s quiet amusement.

And then, of course, there was Taehyung. How he had ended up at a corporate retreat when he didn’t even work at the company was beyond you. But when you’d asked, he’d merely smirked, claiming he was an “unofficial consultant” before pouring himself a generous glass of whatever expensive liquor had been set out.

“Someone had to make sure this trip wasn’t completely boring,” he had added with a wink.

The fire crackled, sparks dancing into the night as the alcohol flowed and inhibitions loosened. Someone had brought out a speaker, soft music blending into the conversations. The warmth of the flames mixed with the lingering buzz of the drinks, and for a moment, the lines between colleagues and friends blurred.

But as you watched Jungkook from across the fire, his jaw tight as he laughed at something Seokjin said, his gaze flickering to you for the briefest second—something told you tonight was going to be different.

Then there was Eunji—your not-so-subtle rival from PR—who had been eyeing you all evening with barely veiled suspicion.

"You're being weird," Soojin murmured beside you, nudging your arm.

You blinked. "What?"

"You keep sneaking glances at CEO Jeon." She wiggled her brows. "Got something to confess?"

Minji, overhearing, gasped. "Wait—no way. Do you have a thing for Jungkook?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, an all-too-familiar voice cut through the conversation.

"She better, considering they’ve been secretly dating for months."

Every head at your table snapped toward the source—none other than Seokjin, who had the smuggest expression imaginable as he leaned back in his chair.

You choked on air. Jungkook, seated beside him, tensed but said nothing, his gaze flicking toward you as the words registered across the firelit patio.

Silence. Then—

"WHAT?!"

Chaos erupted.

Soojin nearly spilled her drink. Minho swore. Dohyun clapped a hand over his mouth. Minji, ever the dramatist, gasped so hard she nearly lost consciousness. Hajun, sipping his whiskey, merely raised an eyebrow, completely unsurprised.

Eunji, on the other hand, looked delighted. "You and Jungkook?" She leaned forward, eyes glinting. "So that's why you've been so smug lately."

"I— No, we-" You turned to Jungkook, expecting him to deny it, but instead, he sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered something under his breath.

That was all the confirmation anyone needed.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S TRUE!" Soojin shrieked.

"Wait, wait, wait," Minho interjected. "Since when?!"

Yoongi, who had been silently sipping his drink, finally spoke up, deadpan. "Since forever."

"Why are we just now finding out?" Dohyun demanded, looking genuinely offended.

Jungkook sighed. "Because it was none of your business? We're not dating."

"Wrong answer." Minji shook her head. "The correct answer was, ‘Because we were waiting for the right time to tell you, our dear and beloved friends whom we trust deeply.’ But no, you went with ‘None of your business.’ Unbelievable."

Soojin turned to you, still in shock. "Are you seriously dating Jungkook? As in, our CEO Jungkook? Grumpy CEO Jungkook? Will-fire-you-with-one-look Jungkook?"

Your face was on fire. "Yes."

The reaction was instant—cheers, dramatic gasps, and a round of mock applause. Even Taehyung looked impressed.

"I'm actually kind of proud of you," he told Jungkook, nudging his arm. "I thought you'd die alone."

Jungkook shot him a glare. "Thanks, Taehyung."

But before the conversation could spiral further, Hajun finally spoke, his voice calm and steady as always. "Alright, enough with the theatrics," he said, setting his glass down. "What matters is that they're happy. And if they wanted to keep it private, we should respect that."

A pause. Then—

"You knew, didn't you?" Minho narrowed his eyes at Hajun.

Hajun smirked, taking another sip of whiskey. "I know everything."

Jungkook groaned. You buried your face in your hands. This retreat was not going as planned.

The fire had burned low, embers glowing faintly against the darkened sky. Most of the group had dispersed—some retreating to their rooms, others lingering near the patio, finishing off bottles of wine and whiskey. But you had wandered away, needing space, needing air. The cool night breeze off the lake did little to calm the turmoil in your chest.

You were still thinking about earlier. Jungkook and Eunji.

Eunji’s hand on his arm. Her effortless smile. The way she had looked at him—like she had a right to be there. Like she had a right to him. And worst of all? The way he hadn’t immediately pushed her away.

You exhaled sharply, arms crossed as you stared at the water, your reflection rippling under the moonlight.

Then, footsteps. Jungkook.

He approached quietly, hands shoved into his pockets, his usual confidence tempered by something softer. Something cautious. "You okay?" His voice was low, just for you.

You let out a breathy laugh, but it lacked humor. "I mean… our secret kind of... relationship just got very public, so I’d say I’m still processing."

Jungkook’s lips twitched. "Seokjin is never going to let me live this down."

You scoffed. "Seokjin? Jungkook, none of them are letting us live this down."

"True." He tilted his head, watching you carefully before adding, "Are you… mad?"

That made you turn to him fully. "Why would I be mad?"

Jungkook hesitated, his jaw tightening for just a moment. "Because of earlier. At the park."

Your stomach twisted. Of course he knew.

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze back to the lake. "I mean… you didn’t exactly stop her from touching you."

Jungkook exhaled sharply. "You think I wanted that?" His voice was firm now, edged with something frustrated—like the idea of you doubting him genuinely bothered him.

You bit your lip, but before you could speak, he took a step closer, his warmth chasing away the night’s chill. "I only have eyes for you," he said, voice quieter now, more certain.

"I don’t care about Eunji. Or about my ex. I never have. And if I didn’t shut them down fast enough, it’s only because I was too busy watching you and trying to figure out how the hell to make it right."

Your breath hitched.

"So let me make it right now," he murmured, closing the last bit of space between you.

You reached for his hand first, lacing your fingers through his. "I don’t mind," you admitted. "If anything, I think it’s kind of a relief. I hated pretending you weren’t—" You swallowed, cheeks warming. "—important to me."

Jungkook’s grip tightened slightly, his gaze locked onto yours.

"Good," he murmured, tilting his head. "Because I’m done pretending, too."

And then, under the soft glow of the moon, with the sound of the lake lapping against the shore, he kissed you—not in secret, not hidden away, but out in the open.

For the first time, it wasn’t a secret. And for the first time, it didn’t need to be.

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luumiinaa · 2 years ago

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love me a good hogwarts au 🪄

Hogwarts requests Masterlist

Characters: BTS x reader

Synopsis: You guys asked and you shall receive! A series of drabbles based off requests sent in a LONG time ago for various members in a Hogwarts au!

Notes: Part one of my farewell! 5 requests about Harry Potter, posted on this very Masterlist! Updates weekly

Links:

1. True love’s kiss - Ravenclaw!Jungkook x reader featuring Gryffindor!Taehyung and Hufflepuff!Jimin

2. A helping hand - Headboy!Namjoon x reader.

3. Shadows Lurking - Gryffindor!Jin x Slytherin!reader

4. The Sun burns too - Slytherin!Jhope x Hufflepuff!Reader

5. A lost correspondence - Professor!Yoongi x Professor!Reader

#☾.ᐟ moon #★.ᐟ mars #fic: story #fic: series #bts #seokjin #suga #jhope #rm #taehyung #jimin #jungkook #magical realism #hogwarts au #frenemies to lovers #coworkers to lovers #friends to lovers #mutual pining #witches and wizards au

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mononijikayu · 4 months ago

Text

crush me in your arms (give me a lovelier kiss, lover) — nanami kento.

"Look at this thing." you murmured, running your hand along the edge of a nearby shelf, trying to feel it to understand it. "It’s like a scene out of some surreal dream." Kento’s gaze lingered on the mannequin. “Feels more like a ghost town out here. But that’s to be expected.” he said, voice low. He stepped further into the shop, his boots crunching softly against scattered debris. "Everyone left. And now everything is left behind, just... waiting."

GENRE: alternate universe - apocalyptic world;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, romance, strangers to lovers, falling in love, post-apocalyptic romance, bittersweet, found family, mutual pining, domestic, feelings, moments in the between, slow burn, humor, fighting, survival, emotional, loss, trauma, sci-fi fiction and fantasy, disabilities, blindness, deafness, ambiguous ending, depiction of disabilities, depiction of post-apocalyptic world, depiction of fighting, depiction of trauma, depiction of survival, mention of pre-apocalyptic world, mention of disabilities, mention of trauma, deaf! nanami kento, blind! reader;

WORD COUNT: 14k words

NOTE: so far, i think this is my favorite. this is based on iu's love wins all mv. i've used the title before, but i don't think i've made use of the lyrics. so here is another love letter to the masterful artistry of iu, as well as kim taehyung, who played her counterpart in the mv. i hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it. the ending is up to you. in any case, i hope to see you on the sukuna one on valentines day!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

buono san valentino, 2025;

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THINGS HAD ALREADY CHANGED IN THE FUTURE. The world that once was had already disappeared and gone. That was to be certain. All that had been left behind in this accursed world was the wasteland it had become, barren of life and bastardized by darkness had consumed it all to nothingness.

There remained in this world, the crawling shadows and terror–ridden screams, living in this nightmare where daylight was nothing more than a sham. Daylight no longer offered no sanctuary. And the night? All it could have held was unimaginable horrors no one can imagine.

Curses — those grotesque abominations birthed from humanity’s deepest fears and hatred had now started to roam freely in abandon, their misshapen bodies defying the logic of what could be known, writhing with malevolent energy.

They had long been born from the fears and the hatred and the grief of the humans it had long ago consumed. They were creatures of chaos, all gnashing teeth, clawed limbs, and endless hunger. And they had not stopped since. And you don’t think they will ever stop, not until the last of humanity becomes consumed by them.

Cities and towns, nations even, that had once bustled with the tenderness and light of life had all but crumbled under their relentless assault. All that remained of the once magnificent skyscrapers were broken skeletal ruins, streets littered with ash and shattered glass. Smoke clung to the air, thick and acrid, choking out the remnants of civilization. Nothing was meant to live anymore.

Silence was a rarity, that was to be certain.

And yet, it was always punctuated by distant screams or the low, guttural growls of curses hunting for their next meal.

On and on, the cycle does repeat.

Hope had long since withered away for you. And there remained that fragile ember snuffed out by despair and bitter loneliness you were forced to endure. Those who had once clung to dreams of salvation were now either dead or broken, wandering the ruins as hollow shells. And if they were still alive, and unbroken — then they hid from the world, hiding in the far flung of the unfathomable earth to disappear.

You have been alone ever since you were born. There was no one to consider family, there was no one who could understand you, there was no one to give you a name. All that had been left behind was the burden of survival on a babe crying alone, unable to see anything but the darkness.

As you grew up, you could only surmise that your family has long been gone, consumed by the darkness of the world. You could only surmise that you were the lone survivor of what had been life as you know it.. One of the remaining human surface colonies, where your family had once resided, were wiped out. And there was nothing left of it. Nothing, but you.

If there was a god, there was quite an irony with the way he does things.

A blind with nothing has been the luckiest to survive this apocalypse.

And you had kept surviving year after year, running and running, frightful in the dark.

But you had to admit that the fear of it all had all but paralyzed you more and more as time went on. They have mutated, become more frightening and powerful after all this time. You could feel it. You could feel them become worse, you could feel them make everything worse of everything.

Every bit of this nightmare unravels over and over again into a more hideous monster you couldn’t comprehend. It continues to grow hungrier, that monster. And that monster continues to grow hungry, while you cower and run and survive for a little bit longer.

Yet this was all you knew since then.

There was no other life for you to have.

As long as you were alive, that’s all you had.

You have to live, no matter what happens.

So, you ran again despite the fear gripping you in its merciless claws, clawing at your chest and strangling your breath. You ran as fast as you could, even if darkness was all there was ahead. You let your ears, your hands and your feet see for you.

You ran, as though it wasn’t just the fear of death you feel every single day, but the terror of the unknown, of a world turned inside out. Your hands trembled uncontrollably, sweat slicking your palms as your thoughts shattered like fragile glass underfoot. You couldn't think. Couldn't plan. Survival was a foreign concept, buried beneath the weight of your panic.

So you did the only thing you could — you ran.

Again and again, you let your feet burn until they bled.

Again and again until the world you knew was far behind.

Your legs burned as you stumbled through desolate streets, weaving through abandoned cars and piles of rubble. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and every step echoed with the threat of something lurking just out of sight. Your heart pounded like a war drum, each beat a desperate reminder that you were still alive.

But the curses were everywhere.

Their twisted forms slithered and crawled through the shadows, grotesque silhouettes against the broken landscape. Eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, locking onto any flicker of movement. Their growls reverberated through the ruins, low and menacing, promising a fate far worse than death. You could hear them closing in — the scrape of claws against concrete, the sickening sound of flesh shifting unnaturally.

Then they found you.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

Time seemed to stretch, each second an agonizing eternity. Your body betrayed you, paralyzed by terror as the curses crept closer. Their misshapen forms shimmered with dark energy, mouths opening wide to reveal rows of jagged teeth.

A scream built in your chest but never made it past your lips.

This was it. The end.

And there was nothing you could do.

Tears started to flood your ghostly eyes, bitterly.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to lose your life like this.

You could hear them. You could hear their guttural snarls echoed in your ears as they closed in. The world blurred around you, your body numb with terror. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t fight. All you could do was brace for the inevitable.

And then — he came.

A flash of steel. The curses shrieked, their forms cleaved apart by a single decisive strike. Silence fell, heavy and thick, broken only by your ragged breathing. He stood there amidst the carnage he had ended, a calm figure in his tattered clothes, blood splattered across his person. His expression was unreadable, but his presence was steady, grounding.

He turned to you, caramel eyes sharp but not unkind. But you couldn’t have known that. You couldn’t have known how warmly he had looked upon you. Perhaps that is why you were still ever so afraid as you cowered in your corner.

Tears continued to flow, breaths echoed incoherently. You were shaking uncontrollably, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Without a word, he was at your side, one firm hand pressing against your shoulder to hold you steady.

“Breathe.” he instructed, his voice low and measured. “You’re safe now.”

The weight of those words shattered something inside you.

The fear, the loneliness, the sheer helplessness, they were recognized.

All that relief suddenly turned into the outpouring heaving of endless sobs.

“It’s okay.” he murmured, his tone unwavering. “Let it out. You’re going to be alright.”

Those were the first words from another human you had heard in a long time. They had been so warm and so tender, so full of kindness. And yet for the longest time, they were words you’ve waited to hear.

They were words of reassurance.

And the truth of it is, you believed him.

You didn’t know why. You didn’t know what he looked like. And yet, you believed him. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to take him as your safe zone, even just for a little while. You clung to him like a lifeline, your tears soaking into his suit. He didn’t pull away, didn’t tell you to stop. He simply held you, anchoring you to reality as the storm within you raged.

That's how you met Kento Nanami. On that warm moonless night, in the fifth year of the tragedy, there was you and there was him. And in a world consumed by darkness, he became your light. And somehow, in that single, fleeting moment, you dared to hope again.

══════════════════

HE UNDERSTOOD WHY YOU HAD TAKEN A DISTANCE FROM HIM AFTER THAT NIGHT. It had been so long since anyone had found another human being by their side, with all of humanity disappearing. With who remained, it was hard not to know what to do, even if they saved your life. You had your reasons, and he didn’t ask about them.

It took time. Days, then weeks — for your nerves to settle enough to even sit near Kento without tension stiffening your body. Trust wasn’t a luxury you afforded anyone easily anymore, not in a world where survival hinged on suspicion and instinct.

Especially knowing your limitations, and the mutation of curses, who knows if they could pretend to be humans. But Kento never found himself forcing a conversation. Nor did he try to go beyond actions that were necessary. If anything, he let you take your time.

At first, silence hung between you like an invisible barrier. He respected it, though, treating it like something fragile rather than uncomfortable. He had a way of being present without demanding attention, moving through the world with a quiet certainty that felt rare in this shattered existence.

Kento understood what fear did to a person. Especially living like that for so long, moreso your entire life under these circumstances, it was hard. He could only imagine how it hollowed you out.

It had left you raw and mistrusting, jumping at shadows long after the danger had passed. You didn’t need to explain that; he had seen it all before. And he has no doubts he would see it for even longer, even by your side.

What surprised you was how well he understood loneliness, too.

He’d never said much about his own past, but it was there in the way he spoke sparingly, in the subtle weight behind his words. The way his tired eyes scanned the world, searching for something he probably hadn’t found yet. He had walked through the same cold, unrelenting darkness as you, trying to carve out a place for himself amidst the ruin.

At night, when the weight of it all became too much — when memories of terror clawed their way back into your mind, he was there. Close but never overbearing, his steady presence grounding you. Sometimes you sat in silence under the fractured sky, neither of you speaking, just breathing.

Kento never offered hollow reassurances or told you to forget the past. What he gave was something more profound to even have, now more so than ever before. The permission to be broken without shame, to be yourself in a world where it was impossible to be. And maybe that was what you needed most.

Gradually, something shifted. You found yourself lingering near him longer, the once-awkward silence now comfortable. Perhaps the thought of someone being there at all comforted you, or perhaps the need to feel safe from the curses perhaps lurking by. You didn’t know which of them was in your heart, in truth. You couldn’t explain it. But he didn’t mind that either.

In that time you both were together, he taught you small, practical things. You sat there, just listening to him go on for hours, quiet enough to ward off curses and yet audible enough for you to hear.

He spoke about how to recognize cursed energy trails, where to find safe shelter, and even how to wield a weapon with steadier hands. He taught you about where to find supplies and how to sleep safely without being caught by curses.

But it wasn’t just about survival, no. It was the moments in between that. When he talks, you could tell that there was a rare glimmer of warmth in his otherwise solemn gaze. You don't know how you could tell, but there was a feeling of it that had made your tummy feel butterflies.

Somehow, with the way he sits beside you, there was less tension in his body to contend with. When he laughs, the sound feels like the beautiful tunes of hummingbirds. You could feel all the tenderness that he had been hoping to express for a long time each and every time.

Those flickers of humanity reminded you that there was still something worth fighting for. This human joy that had been long robbed and long forgotten, with no one to remember it, was now being remembered and lived by the two of you, perhaps who are the last people on earth. The last two people on earth enjoying the last vestige of humanity in each other.

He had been alone just like you, he has said. He has for the longest of time been a wanderer in a ruined world. And he, like you, only lived for survival over and over again. But now, maybe neither of you have to be alone anymore.

As you sat there, you couldn’t help that maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep moving forward, living for more than survival. Perhaps you two could live for each other.

The ruined city stretched beneath a fractured sky, hues of ash and shadow blending into a wasteland of muted shapes. Jagged remnants of buildings clawed at the heavens, skeletal reminders of what once was. The air was thick with the smell of soot and decay, heavy enough to press against your lungs.

You and Kento sat side by side on a crumbling ledge, the world eerily quiet except for the distant groan of shifting debris. He worked silently, sharpening his blade with deliberate strokes. The rhythmic scrap of metal on stone was one of the few sounds that remained constant in your chaotic existence.

Your fingers absently traced patterns in the dust-covered concrete, grounding yourself in touch as you always did. Though the world had faded into darkness for you long ago, you had learned to navigate its bones through sensation — the brush of wind against ruined walls, the subtle tremors of approaching footsteps, the feel of textures under your fingertips.

But tonight, Kento’s voice broke through the fragile quiet.

“You walk too carefully for someone who can see.”

The statement hung in the air, sharp and pointed.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. "What?"

He set down the blade, turning to you with that same calm, analytical gaze he always carried. “I’ve noticed. You feel your way through the world more than most. Like you're mapping it with your hands and feet.”

There was no accusation in his tone, just observation. But it made you uneasy, like being seen too clearly. You purse your lips into a soft line, blush appearing in the apex of your cheeks. Had he not noticed yet?

"I'm blind." you admitted softly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I’ve been this way since it all started."

Kento was silent for a moment, processing the revelation with his usual stoic demeanor. “I see.”

No pity. No awkward questions. Just quiet acceptance.

“I apologize.”

“O–oh, no no. It’s nothing. You didn’t know.”

“And now I know.” He says to you, sighing. “No excuse now, no?”

You hummed to him. But then you tilted your head toward him. “And you?” you asked, hesitant but curious. “Why do you flinch when I speak from behind you? Or why do you never react when the curses roar?”

There was a faint shift in his expression — something almost like wry amusement.

"I can’t hear."

Your brow furrowed. "At all?"

He shook his head. "Haven’t been able to since year 25. It was a curse’s parting gift."

“Then….Then how do you hear what I say?”

“I read your lips.” He admits to you. “It’s the only way I’ll know what you’re saying.”

“And….and you get it right each time?”

“Have I ever been wrong in replying when we talk?”

“N–No…..I don’t think so.”

The revelation hung between you, strange and fragile. Blind and deaf. A pair of misfits stumbling through the ruins of a broken world. You couldn’t help but exhale a hearty laugh, shaky but genuine. His face contorts into confusion.

“Why are you laughing?”

"So let me get this straight: I can't see, you can't hear, and we’re supposed to survive like this?"

"We’ve managed so far, I guess," he said dryly, a sly smile finally wide on his face. "Though I doubt we’ll win any awards for it whatsoever."

Despite the grimness of it all, a smile tugged at your lips. "Guess we balance each other out, huh?"

"Perhaps we do, don’t we?" He stood, brushing dust from his trousers, then extended a hand to you. "Come on. We need to move before nightfall. If we live, we can continue to balance each other out."

You snickered at his words, but when you found his hand, you took it tenderly and without hesitation, his grip firm and steady as always. Slowly but surely, you both navigated the uneven terrain you had rested in. Kento carefully guided you with quiet efficiency, looking back and forth to see if everything was clear.

“You’re sure this path is safe?” you teased, stepping carefully over the uneven rocks as Kento’s hand held yours firmly, guiding you through the trail.

“It’s perfectly safe if you actually listen to my instructions.” he said with a faint smile, his thumb brushing reassuringly against the back of your hand.

“So bossy, aren’t you?” you quipped, earning a soft chuckle from him.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the crisp air brushing against your skin. Curiosity tugged at you as you remembered something he mentioned the other day. “Hey... was what you said yesterday true?”

“About what?” he hummed back, his voice warm and steady.

“You really see in monochrome?”

He was quiet for a beat, the sound of distant birdsong filling the air. “Yes. I do.”

“What’s it like?” you asked, unable to hide your wonder.

“Well, mostly quiet. Static, really.” he said thoughtfully. “It gets hard when it's nighttime. But manageable.”

You mulled over his words, stepping carefully over another jagged stone. His grip on your hand tightened instinctively, steadying you. He softly tells you to be more careful, but you were too into your thoughts that you did not hear him. You gasp, a question entering your head.

“What do I look like to you, then?” you blurted out suddenly, the question hanging in the cool air between you.

Kento’s steps slowed as he considered your question, his lips parting but no words immediately following. He doesn’t think he could answer and he didn’t answer you — not verbally, at least. Instead, his mind wandered before he could stop it.

In the muted, broken world he knew, you were the only vibrant thing he saw somehow. Not in color, but in essence. The way you moved, spoke, and laughed felt like the warmth of sunlight breaking through endless shades of grey that he sees. Beautiful. That’s what you were to him. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop thinking that.

But the weight of his unspoken thoughts lingered too long, and you tilted your head curiously, prompting him back to reality. “Kento?”

He cleared his throat, the sudden self-awareness making him stiffen slightly. “You look... fine, I suppose.” he managed, his tone steady despite the warmth creeping into his chest.

“Fine?” you repeated, raising an incredulous brow, clearly unimpressed with his vague response.

“Yes.” he said firmly, though his lips quivered ever so slightly. “Perfectly fine.”

You couldn’t help but roll your ghostly eyes, but the fondness in your expression made his heart lurch all the same. You nodded, accepting his words back to you. You squeezed his hand.

“Well, I suppose I can’t complain. You can’t have it all.”

Kento’s lips twitched, torn between amusement and guilt as he glanced at you. “No, I suppose not.”

“You’re surprisingly bad at compliments for someone so polished, hm?” you teased in response, your steps more confident now as the rocky path evened out beneath your feet.

“Perhaps so.” he admitted without defense. “But honesty is better than empty flattery, wouldn't you agree?”

“Oh? So I’m just fine, huh?” you shot back playfully. “Not even slightly charming or, I don’t know... radiant?”

He exhaled softly, shaking his head as if your wit were both a challenge and a comfort. “If I said anything beyond the word fine, I doubt you’d never let me hear the end of it.” he countered, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“You might be right about that, I suppose.” you conceded, grinning.

As you walked in companionable silence again, Kento's mind drifted back to what he couldn’t say aloud, the way your presence cut through the static greyness of his world, bringing warmth and vibrancy he hadn’t realized he was missing. There was beauty in that, he thought. More than he had words for.

“You’re quiet again.” you observed, squeezing his hand again.

“Thinking about something.” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly.

“Care to share?”

“Not yet, not right now,” he admitted. “But... maybe someday.”

You arched a brow back at him but you think about letting it slide for now, sensing that he was still carrying unspoken truths. And that was okay — you were patient, willing to wait for when he was ready. Just as he was, when waiting for you to be comfortable with him too.

"Then I guess we’ll just have to keep figuring this mess out together." You tell him softly. “That’s the only way I’ll get to know that from you.”

His voice was steady, as resolute as ever. "We will."

“Do you promise?”

He grips your hand back in a squeeze. “I promise.”

And for the first time since the world had fallen apart, the weight on your shoulders felt just a little lighter. Because you weren't alone anymore. And somehow, in this ruined world, that was enough. It was enough to have a reason to survive. No, no. To live.

The road ahead was treacherous, littered with debris and fragments of a world long forgotten. Cracks in the pavement swallowed chunks of asphalt, and twisted metal glinted faintly under the dim light filtering through thick, oppressive clouds. The air smelled of rust, dust, and faint traces of rot.

Kento walked with practiced precision, his movements deliberate as he guided you forward. His hand brushed yours occasionally, subtle but reassuring, letting you know he was there without needing words.

"Step up a bit." he instructed calmly.

You lifted your foot over a jagged piece of concrete without faltering, trusting his guidance. Despite his inability to hear and your inability to see, the two of you moved as one, to a seamless rhythm forged by necessity and understanding, by things that couldn’t be expressed. As you walked, the tension in the air shifted, heavy with an ominous weight. You felt it first, the faint vibration underfoot, subtle but unmistakable.

"Kento, I can feel it." you murmured, your voice low. "Something's coming."

He didn’t need to hear the warning. His body tensed, instincts sharp as he scanned the horizon with those monochrome eyes. His hand brushed your arm, a silent signal to stop. The ground trembled again, stronger this time. The distinct guttural growl of a curse echoed faintly through the ruins, reverberating through your chest.

You clenched your fists, heart racing. "How close is it?"

"Close enough," he said grimly.

He drew his blade, the soft whisper of steel cutting through the thick air. You reached for the makeshift weapon strapped to your side. It was not elegant or beautiful, but it had kept you alive this long.You trusted it enough. You moved forward, trying to ready yourself with the weapon in your shaky hands. But you felt Kento’s warm hands move you, and you grunt as he pushed you behind him.

"Stay behind me." Kento instructed, his voice steady despite the looming threat.

You didn’t argue.

You knew you couldn’t defeat this one.

It was too massive, it was too….monstrous.

The massive curse emerged from the shadows, its twisted form shimmering with dark energy. You could feel your heartbeat as you felt it move forward to your direction. Kento could see its eyes gleamed with malevolence, teeth bared in a grotesque snarl. Even without sight, you felt its presence — a suffocating, oppressive weight that made the air thick and cold.

Kento moved first, swift and precise. His blade sliced through the air, each strike calculated. The curse shrieked, its movements erratic as it lunged toward him. You felt the shift in the air, the curse’s presence moving closer. Instinct took over. Gripping your weapon tightly, you swung toward the sound, the impact reverberating up your arm as your blade connected with flesh. The curse howled in pain, but it wasn’t enough to feel it.

"Kento!" you called, your voice raw with urgency.

He didn’t need to hear your voice to understand. His blade flashed again, cutting through the curse with brutal efficiency. It let out one final, agonized wail before dissolving into ash, the remnants scattering on the wind.

Silence returned, heavy and thick. Your breathing was ragged, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Kento lowered his blade, his posture relaxing slightly.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos that had just unfolded.

"Yeah," you managed between breaths. "Thanks to you."

He nodded, wiping the blade clean before sheathing it. "You did well."

A faint smile tugged at your lips. "Not bad for a blind person, huh?"

"Not bad at all." he agreed, a rare flicker of warmth in his tone.

“Then it’s not bad for a deaf person too.” You grinned back at him.

Kento blinks and then he bursts out laughing as he takes your hand. “I suppose not at all.”

As the two of you resumed your journey, the weight of the encounter lingering in the air, a strange sense of reassurance settled over you. In this broken world, you had each other. And somehow, that had made living possible once again.

══════════════════

THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU HAD FOUND YOURSELF IN SUCH A PLACE. But you could only assume that this was one of the last intact and well preserved types of places that had been left behind by the curses and humans.

The silence between you and Kento stretched as you both took in the sight of the old store. Time seemed to slow, the world outside fading into the background as the forgotten relics of a once-vibrant era captured your attention.

The quietness of the store swallowed Kento’s words, leaving only the soft scrape of his boots against the dusty floor as he stepped closer to the mannequin. You could sense the tension in his voice, a touch of reverence mixed with a hint of unease as he looked at it, that strange relic from a life you couldn’t fully grasp.

“What does it look like, Kento?” you asked again, your voice softer this time, a gentle plea for him to bridge the distance between you and the unseen world.

Your ghostly eyes scanned the space where the mannequin stood, but it was like trying to interpret a memory that wasn’t yours. You reached out, fingers trailing through the air in search of something familiar.

“The texture sure is...interestingly odd.”

Kento's voice lowered, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the fragile silence of the store. “They were mannequins, at least from what I read.”

He paused, his hand hovering near the base of the mannequin’s stand, where it met the ground. “They were once used to display clothes, so people could see them before they bought them.”

The quiet of the store wrapped around the two of you like an old blanket, a forgotten relic in itself. You couldn’t see the mannequin, but you could feel the odd coldness that it exuded — like an echo of something that no longer made sense in this world. It was as if you were touching a piece of history, something frozen in time, forever stuck in its own reflection.

“People used to come in and look at things like this?” You asked, still moving your hands slowly through the air, trying to sense what Kento was seeing. "Just... for something to look at?"

Kento’s voice was gentle but thoughtful as he responded. “Yeah. It was how they showed off clothes. You'd walk into a store, see the mannequin dressed in the latest fashion, and decide if you liked it enough to buy it. It was a way of displaying things so people could imagine themselves wearing them.”

A quiet laugh slipped from your lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “It sounds... so trivial now. People worry about what clothes they wore, what things they bought. And here we are, just trying to survive.”

Kento was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on the mannequin’s frozen hand, still in that unnerving wave. “It’s not trivial, though." he said, his voice quieter now, the words more reflective. "It was part of what made life feel... whole. People had their worries, yes. But they had the luxury of not just surviving, but living.”

Your hand brushed the mannequin's arm gently, your fingers brushing against the smooth plastic. It felt so strange, so cold, a stark contrast to the warm memories that Kento had shared.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever understand it. A world like that... where people could take time to care about things like clothes.”

Kento’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his monochrome vision scanning your face with quiet understanding. “You’ll get there. We will. It may take time, but we’ll find what we need to keep going. Even in this mess, there’s still something worth holding onto.”

The words hung in the air between you both, quiet and almost sacred. The mannequin, still and lifeless, seemed to listen in on your conversation, a quiet observer of the world that used to be. For a brief moment, you wished you could see what it had looked like — the vibrant clothes, the bustling streets, the ordinary lives of people simply trying to get by.

But you couldn’t. All you had were the fragments of stories, the faint remnants of a world that had once been full of noise and color.

“What do you think happened to all of them?” you asked, feeling the weight of the question more than you had expected. “The people who used to buy clothes, and visit places like this?”

Kento’s voice was soft when he replied, like he was speaking to both you and the mannequin, as though the answer was still lost in time. “They became a part of the world we’re in now. Curses, souls... maybe they’re still somewhere, waiting for the world to wake up again.”

You shivered at the thought, your fingers tightening slightly around the mannequin's arm as you felt the weight of the loss that had already come before in the fifty years this has been going on, the irreplaceable loss of those lives, those small, quiet moments of normalcy.

Kento stood beside you, his eyes also fixed on the mannequin. His usually calm expression was softened with a touch of thoughtfulness. “It’s like the whole store is frozen, though.” he mused, voice barely above a whisper. “Like it was abandoned in an instant, never to be touched again.”

"Look at this thing." you murmured, running your hand along the edge of a nearby shelf, trying to feel it to understand it. "It’s like a scene out of some surreal dream."

Kento’s gaze lingered on the mannequin. “Feels more like a ghost town out here. But that’s to be expected.” he said, voice low. He stepped further into the shop, his boots crunching softly against scattered debris. "Everyone left. And now everything is left behind, just... waiting."

You followed, careful to avoid the broken shards of glass near the doorway. The air was thick with dust and carried the faint scent of mildew, but the place was remarkably preserved compared to the crumbling ruins outside. Your fingers brushed against a rack of clothes, light summer dresses with swirling patterns, faded but still beautiful in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

"What do you think this clothing store was for?" you asked, tilting your head as you tried to imagine it full of life. "What sort of clothes were they selling? What I touched earlier felt like feathers. That just seems so….. flashy."

Kento examined a rusting tin sign on a shelf. It read: “Summer Sale: 50% Off All Dresses!” in bold, cheerful letters. He raised a brow.

“Probably some kind of boutique.” he said. “Or a place people came for things they didn’t really need.”

You laughed softly, the sound strange in the stillness. "Things they didn’t need? Like this?" You pointed toward a shelf stacked with peculiar trinkets, a miniature statue of a cat wearing sunglasses, an old snow globe with a tiny city inside, and a mug shaped like a pineapple.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. “Exactly like that.”

You picked up the snow globe, shaking it gently. The tiny flakes swirled around the miniature city, glittering faintly in the dim light. “I don’t get it. Why would anyone want this?”

Kento shrugged, his gaze shifting to a jukebox in the corner. The once-shiny machine was tarnished and dusty, but it still stood tall and proud, a monument to a world neither of you had ever truly known.

“Maybe it made them happy, you know?” he said after a moment. “Even if just for a little while.”

You set the snow globe back down, your fingers lingering on its smooth surface. “Happiness seemed so… extravagant. Doesn’t it?”

Kento didn’t respond immediately. He was staring at the jukebox now, his hand brushing against the side as though testing if it still worked. "Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t." he said finally. "But maybe that’s what made it worth it."

The two of you continued to go and wander deeper into the store, pausing by a rack of clunky shoes with impossibly high heels and neon colors that almost hurt anyone’s eyes when they looked at it. You frown as you feel the unfamiliar texture with your fingers. Your frown gets deeper at the edges, touching the heel.

“People wore these?” you asked, incredulous.

Kento raised a brow, a faint glimmer of amusement in his usually solemn expression. “Apparently. Must’ve been hell on their feet.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as your ghostly eyes stared at the mannequin’s polka-dotted dress, delicate fingers touching the brightly colored fabric feeling so out of place in the world you now knew.

“I can’t even imagine a life like that. People worry about clothes, shoes, decorations. It’s so... ridiculous.”

Kento gave a quiet, almost wistful nod, his gaze lingering on the dress for a moment before looking back to you. “It was a different world, you know?” he said softly. “One where they had the luxury to worry about those things. We don’t get that anymore.”

You sighed, the weight of his words hanging in the air, then letting your hands touch the dresses once again. “Should I try some of the clothes?” you asked with a light laugh, the suggestion playful but tinged with a quiet seriousness, as if it was some small rebellion against the ruins of the world you both lived in.

Kento raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement passing through his eyes. “Try the clothes on?” he repeated, almost as if the concept itself was absurd now. “You mean, like how they used to do? Just... because?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like to do that.” you said with a small shrug, smiling despite the heaviness in the air. “Maybe we could pretend, for a moment, that it’s normal. That the world isn’t falling apart.”

Kento looked at you for a long moment, then slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He shook his head, but there was no judgment in his expression. “You really want to try?”

“Why not?” you responded, your voice lighter. “It wouldn’t make anyone think we stole them. No one’s here to say no! Well….unless you will?”

Kento’s lips twitched in amusement. “No, I won’t.”

“Good to hear. I like that answer!” you grinned triumphantly, releasing his hand to wander toward the racks of forgotten garments. Dust clung to faded fabric, but as you ran your fingers over them, you imagined what they might have looked like once, bright and bold in a world not broken by ruin.

Kento stood nearby, arms crossed, watching you with quiet curiosity. He always observed more than he spoke, and right now, he looked as though he was trying to understand what made this moment so important to you.

“So?” you called back to him. “Should I go dramatic or practical? What would you prefer? Bright and loud or mystique and rogue?”

He huffed softly, shaking his head. “Why not both?”

You laughed, the sound light and rare, and pulled a gown off the rack. It was a flowing deep indigo piece that still held some of its former elegance despite the faded stitching. Turning toward Kento, you held it up against yourself.

“I can’t see it. What do you think?”

“I think it’s missing a sword belt if you’re going for practical, to be sure.” he said dryly, though there was warmth behind his words.

“Oh, so now you do have opinions about fashion, huh?” you teased.

“Only when it involves combat readiness.” he deadpanned.

As you drifted away from Kento, his steady voice followed you. “Don’t wander too far, okay?” he called, firm but gentle, like he always was when concern threaded through his otherwise calm demeanor.

“Yeah, yeah.” you retorted absently, waving a dismissive hand without looking back. “I’m not a child, Kento.”

His faint sigh echoed faintly behind you, but he didn’t press further.

Your fingers danced idly across rows of neglected garments, the fabrics coarse from time and abandonment. Most were stiff, lifeless. They felt like mere remnants of a world long gone. Yet you kept searching, guided by curiosity and a quiet defiance against the bleakness around you.

Then your hand paused.

This one was different. The fabric beneath your fingertips was unexpectedly soft, worn into something tender by time rather than ruined by it. You pulled the garment from the rack, the material clinging slightly as if reluctant to leave its forgotten home. It was a simple dress, muted in color but elegant in its simplicity. The fabric had a subtle sheen, catching the dim light filtering through shattered windows.

You rubbed it between your fingers, testing its texture, half-expecting it to crumble under your touch. But it held firm, surprisingly resilient despite its delicate appearance.

“Huh…..” you murmured to yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Didn’t think I’d find anything like this.”

Behind you, Kento remained watchful, his quiet presence grounding even as you wandered. You lifted the dress higher, studying it with a critical eye. It wasn’t perfect — far from it. But something about it spoke to you, as though it carried a whisper of a world where softness and beauty still had a place.

“What did you find?” Kento’s voice broke through your reverie, closer now as he approached.

“Something interesting.” you mused, holding it up for him to see. “Think it’s my style?”

His gaze flickered over the dress, thoughtful as always. “If you like it, that’s all that matters.”

“Diplomatic as ever, aren’t you?” you teased, though warmth curled in your chest at his simple acceptance.

“Do you?” he asked quietly.

You looked back at the dress, fingers still tracing its gentle lines. “Yeah, yeah.” you admitted softly. “I think I do.”

There was something defiant in choosing beauty, however small, in a world that had tried to strip it away. And right now, that felt like victory enough. This felt like reclaiming what had been lost nearly fifty years ago. Just in this one dress.

You went ahead into the other corner, hiding away so you could put the dress on you. Kento asked you if you would be okay, but you reassured him enough and made it through by yourself.

As you pulled the faded dress over your head, the fabric sliding smoothly against your skin, you couldn’t help but smile a little, even though you couldn’t see what it looked like. The weight of the dress felt comforting, and for a moment, it felt as if you were transported to another time.

It felt like a time when life was filled with simple pleasures, like trying on clothes without worrying about curses or survival. You hummed quietly as you ran your hands over the texture, trying to sense its shape, its softness. Everything about it was perfect.

If this were a normal world, you thought to yourself, maybe I would have been wearing something like this too.

The idea of all of that felt like a dream now, something distant and almost impossible, but as the dress settled comfortably around you, a small part of that dream seemed to come alive again, even if just for a fleeting moment.

You moved toward the door, feeling your way carefully with your hands, as you had learned to do in this strange new world. When you finally stepped out into the open space again, you took a deep breath and called out to Kento, your voice light with curiosity. Slowly, he made his way to you and he stopped, seeing you in front of him.

"Kento, what do you think?"

For a long moment, there was silence — an odd, thick silence that made you wonder if something was wrong. Then, Kento’s breath hitched sharply, and you heard him take a step forward, though you couldn’t see his face.

"You..." His voice faltered slightly, and he paused, clearly at a loss for words. You could feel the tension in the air, a kind of stillness that only existed when someone saw something they didn’t expect.

“Me?” You asked, waiting for his reply.

"You look... stunning." He said it slowly, like he was trying to find the right words, and you could hear the astonishment in his voice.

A knot twisted in your chest. You didn’t know what you looked like, couldn’t see the dress at all. You were used to the uncertainty of blindness, but in moments like this, it felt more intense. "What color is it?" you asked hesitantly. "What does it look like?"

There was another long pause, and when Kento spoke again, his voice was a little rougher, like he was still trying to steady himself. "It seems to be….. white." he said quietly. "It’s... beautiful. It would have been something considered for weddings back in the day."

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you processed his words. A wedding dress? That was what you were wearing? You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a little nervous but also amazed at how surreal the whole situation felt.

"A wedding dress? But... I’m not getting married."

Kento cleared his throat, his voice sounding more composed now, though there was still a trace of wonder in it. "Yeah, I know," he said, his tone almost shy. "But... it suits you. Very well."

You paused, your fingers brushing over the fabric of the dress as you tried to imagine what it might look like, though you knew it was impossible. Still, there was something in Kento’s voice, something that made your heart flutter just a little.

The weight of the world, the despair that had surrounded you for so long, felt a little lighter now. As if in this moment, just for a second, you could pretend that things were different.

"Are you still there?" you asked, your voice quiet, a little unsure. You hadn’t heard him move, and the silence between you felt strangely thick.

Kento’s voice was steady now, but there was a softness to it that made you smile, even if he couldn’t see it. "Yeah. I’m here."

You took a small breath, still unsure of what to make of the situation, but feeling something warm and comforting growing inside of you. "Thank you, Kento."

There was a long, almost thoughtful pause, and then he said softly, "You don’t need to thank me for anything. You’ve always been amazing, you just didn’t realize it."

His words, simple but sincere, made your chest tighten with emotion. You couldn’t see it, but in that moment, you felt more seen than you ever had before. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be beautiful again.

Even in a world as broken as this one, life can breathe into the surface once again. Even if it’s just between the two of you.

You stood in front of Kento, the weight of your dress still sinking in, though you couldn’t see what it looked like. But you could feel it, the soft fabric, the way it fit you in a way that felt almost... right. A thought crossed your mind, one that made you smile despite the broken world outside.

“Kento, hey….” you said, the words light but carrying a playful undertone. “You should wear something too. Something to match me.”

He blinked, taken off guard by the suggestion, his eyes narrowing as he processed what you said. “What?” His voice was almost a chuckle, but there was hesitation in it. “I—no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice coaxing, teasing him gently. “Come on, you can’t let me be the only one dressed up. It’ll be fun.”

Kento shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking away as if the idea made him shy. “I really don’t think I should. It’s just... silly. You’re already wearing something... so nice. I can’t just—” He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish his sentence, a slight flush creeping up his neck.

You smiled softly, knowing that you were getting to him. “Please, Kento.” you said, your voice low and earnest, a hint of pleading in it. “Just for me? It’ll be like we’re actually living in that other world. For just a moment.”

He looked at you, his expression a mixture of reluctance and something else — something softer that you couldn’t quite place. The silence stretched between you both for a few moments, and for a second, you thought he might refuse. But then he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Fine, alright.” he muttered, as if resigning to a quiet surrender. “But only because you asked.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Thank you, Kento.”

A few minutes later, Kento returned back to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you walked towards him standing there. He purses his lips before he takes your hand. He presses it against the fabric he wore on him.

“Do you like it?” He asks, almost shyly as your fingers wander across the fabric. “It’s….It’s the best one that matches you.”

He was wearing a suit, a dark one with fine tailoring, the fabric sleek and smooth. And it matched your dress perfectly. The same shade of white, that’s why he chose it. Though with slight variations in texture and cut, as if you two had been made to complement each other.

The tie he wore was a darker shade, but still complemented the subtle elegance of the suit all the same. His sandy hair was slightly tousled, a few stray strands falling out of place as if he hadn’t spent time fixing them.

He stood still for a moment, caramel eyes shifting uncomfortably, as if he didn’t know whether to expect praise or criticism. But there was a quiet softness in the way he stood, as if he was waiting for your reaction. As if he was waiting for your approval.

You couldn't stop the quiet gasp that slipped from your lips. “Kento...”

The word carrying his name came out in a breathless whisper, as you took in the sight of him. The suit fit him perfectly, and something in you fluttered at the sight of how effortlessly it seemed to match with your own dress.

Kento’s face reddened, but he tried to play it off with a soft chuckle. “You really wanted me to wear this, huh? You like it?”

You nodded, your voice caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. “You seem so….amazing. We match, don’t we?”

He scratched the back of his neck, awkward but still slightly proud, his gaze flicking down to the suit, then back to you. “We do…. We do match.” he said, trying to downplay it, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “B–but it’s nothing. It’s just a suit, it's not something—”

You stepped closer to him, your hand gently reaching out to adjust the collar of his jacket, a small gesture that made your heart flutter. A small gesture that makes his own heart skip a beat.

“It’s not just a suit, Kento. It’s... you. And it looks perfect.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He just stood there, as if unsure of what to say, his gaze softening as he took you in. Then, finally, he sighed and let out a small laugh, a real one this time, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“Well, if you’re happy, then I guess that’s all that matters.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest, the world outside for once not feeling so cold. “I am happy, very much so.” you said, your voice soft but full of gratitude. “And I think we make a pretty good pair. Don’t we?”

Kento didn’t say anything for a moment, but the softness in his tender eyes spoke volumes. He looked at you like he could almost see what you couldn’t — like he understood the weight of the moment. And for once, you didn’t feel blind. It was as if you could see for the very first time. And all the same, you finally felt seen.

And for a moment, you weren’t just surviving.

You were like all the people who had walked in these walls.

You finally were living the life that could have been.

“Yeah.” Kento finally said, his voice quieter now, almost fond. “I think we do.”

You took a step toward him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. The room around you, the empty storefront, the dusty mannequins, the crumbling world outside — everything that surrounded you, that existed, all of that seemed to fade as you found your skin touching his own.

"Kento." you said softly, your voice carrying a new kind of confidence. "Dance with me."

He blinked, his gaze flickering with surprise. For a moment, he looked like he might laugh it off. "Dance?" He shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "I can't even hear anything, let alone am I knowledgeable at that. How am I supposed to dance?"

You tilted your head, a smile pulling at the corners of your own mouth. "You don’t need to hear. We can still feel it, and that’s better, don’t you think? You don’t need the sound to make it real."

Kento opened his mouth to say something, but paused, clearly unsure how to respond. The gentle warmth in your voice, the simple conviction in your words, seemed to stop him in his tracks. You reached out, your hand finding his, and for a moment, everything seemed to still.

"Please, Kento." you whispered, the request sincere, almost pleading. "Just for a moment. Let’s pretend."

He couldn’t help but feel hesitant as he looked at you, still feeling unsure about what to do. But then, as if something inside of him shifted — he let out a soft sigh into the air. His large hand moved toward yours, his fingers wrapping around yours with a quiet steadiness. Somehow, your hands fit so well together.

"Alright. Just this once." he said, his voice softer than before. "I’ll give it a try."

You smiled brightly, the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Without waiting for another word, you closed the distance between the two of you, placing your other hand gently on his shoulder.

You took a slow, deep breath, letting the stillness of the moment wash over you. The world outside, the curses, the madness, none of it seemed to matter in this space. It was just you and Kento — two souls, finding something simple and beautiful.

Then, with a quiet hum, you began to move, the melody born from within you, an instinctive rhythm flowing through your body. The tune wasn’t anything familiar, just something you felt, something deep inside that had always been there, waiting to be shared. Your feet moved slowly at first, tracing gentle circles on the floor, and Kento followed you, his movements tentative but steady.

You hummed, the melody shifting like a soft breeze, flowing and floating between you both. And though Nanami Kento couldn’t hear the music, you knew he could feel it, in the way his body moved with yours, in the way his gaze never left yours, soft and filled with something unreadable.

Kento’s caramel eyes were fixed on you the entire time, studying you with an intensity that made your breath catch. He wasn’t just following you; he was there, fully present, every part of him connected to the moment. His handsome face was serene, you knew that even if you didn’t see him.

Everything about him was something you admired. And he could see it, in the way your ghostly eyes gazed at him like he was the only one that could ever belong to you. And all he knew was that he was looking at you like that too.

The two of you moved together, your steps blending, your rhythm in perfect sync, though there was no sound to guide you. It didn’t matter. The silence was filled with everything you both needed. The soft pressure of his hand against yours, the gentle pull of his presence, the warmth that grew between you as you danced in the quiet.

At one point, you let yourself close the gap even further, your head resting lightly against his chest. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel his breath, steady and calm, as he held you close. His arm tightened around you slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the fragile beauty of this moment.

You continued to hum, lost in the stillness of it all. And for once, you didn’t need to say anything. Kento’s presence, his quiet understanding, was enough. There was no need for words. All you needed was the steady movement, the connection between two people who had found something beautiful in the middle of so much chaos.

When the hum finally faded, and you slowly came to a stop, neither of you said anything. Kento didn’t move away. He simply stood there, still holding you, his hand gently resting on your back as if savoring the feeling of the moment.

"That... was different." he said quietly, his voice low, almost like he was still trying to process the experience.

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Different good?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kento took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "Yeah... different good."

And in that moment, the world outside seemed just a little farther away, as if for a brief instant, you and Kento had created something of your own. It was a fleeting, beautiful moment that the darkness outside couldn’t touch.

Kento’s hand lingered on your back for a moment longer before he gently pulled away, his fingers brushing against your skin. He looked at you, his expression soft, almost as if he were contemplating something. Then, his voice, low and tender, broke the silence.

“Do you want to stay here for the night?” He asked, his tone so gentle, like he was offering you a place to rest, a space to just... be.

You looked up at him, your chest warm with the lingering comfort of the dance, the quiet intimacy you’d shared. You didn’t have to think long. The world outside was too dangerous, too harsh, and the last thing you wanted was to leave the safety of this little corner of peace you’d found.

You nodded at him, your voice soft but sure. “Yeah... it’s getting late.”

Kento studied you for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours, before he nodded in agreement. “Alright. We’ll stay here.”

There was a quiet understanding between you both. Neither of you needed to say more. It wasn’t just about the safety of staying inside. It was about the unspoken connection you shared — the comfort of being in this moment, of finding solace in each other’s presence when everything else was broken.

Kento moved toward one of the old, dust-covered chairs in the corner of the shop and set down the bags he had been carrying. He looked around the abandoned store, his expression thoughtful as he took in the strange stillness of it all.

"We’ve got everything we need right here.” he said with a small smile, his voice steady despite the chaos of the world outside. "It’s not much, but it’s enough for tonight."

You smiled back at him, feeling the weight of your body relax as you sank down onto a nearby bench. "It’s more than enough." you said quietly.

You could feel your ghostly eyes following Kento as he began to rummage through the remnants of the store for anything that might make your stay more comfortable. He returned a few moments later with a blanket. It was old, but it was still capable of warming the body.

The simplicity of the moment felt surreal. In a world where survival was the priority, where every day was a battle, you had found a small, fragile slice of peace. And it was with him. No, no. It was him. He was your piece of peace.

Kento draped the blanket over the two of you and settled beside you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence enveloping you like a comforting blanket of its own. The outside world, with all its curses and destruction, felt like a distant nightmare — a reality that, for now, you could escape.

You hummed as Kento leaned back against the wall, his arm resting behind you, his fingers lightly brushing against your shoulder. You closed your ghostly white eyes, leaning into the warmth of his presence, the quiet safety of being with him.

"I’m glad we found this place, Kento." you murmured softly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "It feels like... like we’re living, just for a little while."

Kento didn’t answer right away, and you couldn’t see what expressions he had in his face in the meantime. So, you waited as your ghostly eyes slowly gathered itself to slumber. When he did speak, his voice was steady and calm, a quiet comfort in the midst of it all and most of all, you were already asleep.

"Yeah." he said, his hand resting lightly on yours. "For tonight... we are."

══════════════════

THERE WAS MUCH TO SEE HERE, AND THAT’S WHY YOU STAYED. The next morning, the two of you wandered deeper into the abandoned storefront, curiosity leading you through the quiet, forgotten aisles.

The building seemed to stretch on, revealing layers of time that had been sealed away, waiting for someone to discover them. There was an odd beauty in the decay. A sense of history woven through the dust and shadows, waiting to be remembered by someone.

As you walked with care, your fingers brushed along the old shelves, feeling the cold, faded remnants of what had once been. Then, you turned a corner, and there it was — a fine dining restaurant. At least that’s what Kento says it was.

The tables were set in an almost eerie stillness, the chairs pushed back from the tables as if the patrons had simply walked out. Dust covered the countertops, but there was something oddly peaceful about the place, as if it had frozen in time. Plates, some cracked and chipped, sat on the tables. It’s remnants of meals long gone cold, long forgotten by the people who had wanted to taste it.

You and Kento sat down at one of the tables, the deafening silence between you almost natural. It felt strange to see these abandoned places, as if they held echoes of lives once lived here — stories that had been left unfinished. Plans left unattended to. Lives left to nothing.

The plates before you were strange, the food half-eaten and hardened by time. You picked up a fork, turning it in your hand as you observed the scene, then glanced at Kento, who seemed just as lost in the moment. The sight of the old food, of meals that had once been shared between people, felt like a ghost from the past.

Kento broke the silence first, his voice quiet but thoughtful. "I wonder what it was like for all of them." he said, his gaze moving over the plates. "Food... before all this happened. Do you think people took it for granted?"

You thought for a moment, trying to imagine a world where food was plentiful, where people sat together at tables like these, laughing, talking, sharing. A world where they didn’t have to fight for every meal. A whole world where they were enjoying what was there to be had.

“I don’t know, really.” you replied, your voice soft. “It’s hard to imagine. Everything feels so different now. Back then... people must have had so many choices. So much variety.”

You reached forward and gently poked at a plate of dried food, a cracked piece of what might have been bread, now hardened with age. "You could just walk into a place like this and have whatever you wanted."

Kento nodded, his hand resting on the table as he stared at the plate before him, his expression distant. "I imagine there were so many things... dishes people cherished. Foods that reminded them of home or celebrations." His eyes flickered to the faded menu on the wall, barely legible but still hanging there, frozen in time. "I wonder what it would have been like to taste something like that."

You smiled faintly, leaning back in your chair as you thought about it. "I think I would have liked sweets. You know, cakes, candies, things that people probably shared on birthdays or special occasions."

Kento raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you. "Sweets, huh? I can picture that. You always seem to know how to make the best of things... even when everything else seems so... dark."

You shrugged, a small laugh escaping you. "Maybe. But I think everyone had their favorites, right? Some people liked savory, others liked sweet. And meals were always a reason to gather. I bet... I bet it was different back then."

Kento leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the empty space around you, as if he were trying to piece together the history that had been lost. “I bet there was laughter, too. People talking about their days, making plans. It wasn’t just food. It was about the company.”

You nodded, glancing at the empty chairs surrounding you, imagining them filled with life. “Yeah. It’s not just the food. It’s the people. The moments. The sharing.”

For a few seconds, there was a quiet understanding between the two of you — a shared longing for something that no longer existed, something that felt out of reach. Fifty years ago, that could have been your life. Had you both been born much earlier, enjoying what was normal. You could only wonder who you could have been then?

“I wish I could’ve tasted it. Or at least cooked it.” Kento said, his voice softer now. "I wish I could've lived in that world... just for a little while."

You looked over at him, the sincerity in his tone reminding you of the weight of it all. "Me too." you whispered. "I think we all wish we could’ve had more of it... more of the little things that make life worth living."

Kento nodded slowly, his eyes distant but filled with something almost wistful. "It’s strange, isn’t it? To think about all the things we took for granted. We never thought we'd lose them. And even stranger….to mourn something we never had."

You let out a soft sigh, reaching across the table and resting your hand on his for a moment, a silent gesture of understanding. "No. We didn’t."

For a while, neither of you spoke, both of you lost in the quiet, the memories of a world long gone. The food before you, abandoned and forgotten, was just another symbol of everything that had been lost.

But there, in the midst of the silence, you found comfort in knowing you were together. Maybe it wasn’t food or laughter that you had, but you still had this, this quiet company, the shared understanding of what the world once was. And that, for now, was enough. You don’t have to wallow in the past alone.

You leaned back in your chair, your hands absently moving to the side, brushing against something solid that wasn’t part of the table or plate. Frowning, you felt around a little more, your fingers gliding over something cold and metallic.

You furrowed your brow and lightly touched it again, your fingers tracing the shape. It was oddly smooth, but with little ridges. You couldn’t make sense of what it could be, but it certainly felt out of place among the dust-covered, abandoned plates and old utensils.

Curious, you gently pulled the object closer. "Kento... what is this?" you asked, a bit of wonder in your voice as you continued to feel it. "It feels like... a box with a lens. Could it be some sort of device?"

Kento, who had been watching you with a slight smile, moved in closer as you gently prodded at the object. His brow furrowed as he examined what you were holding. With a slow exhale, he gently took it from your hands and held it up to eye level, his fingers brushing over the device, his expression thoughtful.

“That…” He paused, his tone a little more serious now as he inspected it. “That’s a camera."

"A camera?" you echoed, your mind trying to piece together what that could possibly mean.

You had heard of cameras, at least from the radios that were blaring in the human settlements. They were things that captured moments, or so you’d been told — but you’d never really seen one, at least not in this way. You felt a little thrill run through you at the thought of it, but you were still unsure of how it all worked.

“Yeah.” Kento continued, his voice soft, as he examined the lens carefully. “They were used to taking pictures... to capture moments. People would use them to remember things — memories, places, people.”

He glanced back at you, a soft, almost nostalgic expression crossing his face. “It was one way for people to hold on to things they didn’t want to forget."

Your fingers tingle with excitement. "So... it takes a picture of... of anything?"

"Yeah." Kento looked down at the camera, still running his fingers over it with a careful curiosity. “This particular one is an old model, but I think I can still make it work." He adjusted a few dials, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to remember how to operate it. After a moment, he gave a small nod. “Alright. I think it’s working. It just needs a film roll inside, but I can still try."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Can you take a picture with it?”

Kento’s lips twitched up at the corners, his eyes twinkling with something that almost felt like amusement. “Yeah, I think I can. But it’s not exactly instant — you'll have to wait for it to develop later."

You didn’t care about the developing process. The thrill of the idea made your chest tighten with excitement. You leaned forward eagerly, your voice a little breathless, “So... Can you take one of me? Right now? Please?”

He glanced up at you with a hesitant smile, his gaze soft. "You sure? I mean, it’s kind of old. It might not turn out the way you expect. It might not even work.”

You were already grinning, already imagining what the moment could be like. "I don’t care! It’s a picture. A memory. And... I don’t know when I’ll ever get the chance to do something like this again."

Kento’s expression softened, and despite the chaos and uncertainty of the world outside, he nodded slowly. "Alright." he said, his voice almost teasing. "Just hold still, then."

You sat up straighter, smiling even wider as you tried to pose, though you had no idea what you were doing. The world outside, the endless darkness, the curses — all of it felt so far away in that moment. All that mattered was this fragile little piece of normalcy, a snapshot of something real.

Kento adjusted the camera, looking through the lens with a concentrated expression. “You ready?”

“Yeah!” You replied with a little too much enthusiasm, your hands folding neatly in your lap.

For a brief moment, the world felt still. Kento’s tender caramel eyes met yours, soft yet steady, before his finger pressed down on the shutter. The click of the camera filled the empty, and you felt a surge of excitement at the sound of it. It works.

“Did you get it?” you asked, practically bouncing in your seat. Your smile was practically glowing, the joy in your chest making the air feel lighter.

Kento lowered the camera, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer. “I think so.” he said, his voice laced with a soft smile of his own. “But we’ll have to wait to see.”

You leaned back, your heart fluttering with the thought of it, as if something small, yet precious, had been captured in that moment. You sat back in your chair carefully, your hands still buzzing with excitement as you imagined what the picture might look like — if it even worked at all.

The thought of having something tangible, something that captured this fleeting moment between you and Kento, filled you with a warmth that had been absent for so long. You couldn’t help but be so giddy and joyous about all of it.

“So... now we just wait, huh?” you asked, glancing up at Kento, your voice full of wonder.

Kento nodded, still looking at the camera in his hands with an expression that was a mix of nostalgia and curiosity. “Yeah. It’s not an instant thing like the ones they have in the old stories, where the picture just pops out. It takes time to develop.” He turned the camera in his hands thoughtfully. “It’ll be a while before we see the result.”

You nodded, though a small part of you wished it could happen right away. Still, the thought of it being something you would both share, something real and permanent, even if it took time — was enough to make you feel like you were on top of the world.

The quiet of the restaurant settled around you again, but it felt different now. The stillness no longer seemed like a reminder of what had been lost; it was a space where you could be present, where you could hold on to a memory that was yours, even if only for a brief time.

Kento looked over at you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know... we could make a habit of this. Taking pictures, I mean. Maybe not with this old thing, but...” He trailed off, then gave a small shrug. “Maybe we can find another way.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’d really want to keep doing this with me?”

Kento chuckled softly, a warmth spreading across his features. “Why not? It might be the one thing we can do that feels... normal.” He hesitated, glancing down at the camera again before meeting your eyes. “It’s nice. Having something to hold on to, something to remember.”

You smiled, the weight of his words settling in your chest. The world outside might be in ruins, and everything might feel uncertain, but right here, in this moment, there was something beautiful about it. The idea of creating memories with Kento, the promise of even more of it in the future and being able to capture those fleeting moments — that had made everything seem a little less overwhelming.

“Maybe we could take more pictures later, you know?” you said softly, the thought of it making your heart a little lighter. “Maybe of the things we find. The places we go.”

Kento's eyes softened, and he gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. We’ll make our own memories, even if the world around us keeps changing. Maybe those will be the ones that matter the most. For as long as this can exist.”

For a while, neither of you spoke once more. Kento busied himself with getting to know the camera. You sat there, surrounded by the remnants of a life you’d never fully experienced but could now, in some way, hold on to. The old, abandoned restaurant felt a little less lonely. The world, too, seemed just a little bit kinder.

When the moment finally stretched long enough, Kento looked over at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know... even if we never develop the picture, I’ll always remember this.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “This moment. With you.”

You looked at him, your heart full as you whispered back, “Me too, Kento. Me too.”

And in the quiet of that old, forgotten place, you both sat together, with the promise of more moments to come.

You had finally made a move on from the storefront. After a full day’s walk, you found yourselves at the river crossing. The river stretched ahead of you, winding its way through the landscape like a lifeline. It was a quiet flow that mirrored the stillness of the world around you. The sky, an endless gray, hung over everything, casting a dull sheen across the scene. But it didn’t matter. Not really.

You walked side by side, each step taken in unison, even if the weight of the world outside tried to press down on your shoulders. It was strange, how you could both walk through the ruins of this broken world and still find something like peace in each other’s presence.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. If anything, it was now a language that existed between the two of you. The silence wasn’t that terrifying anymore. Now, it was a silence that was a friend, a loved one. It had become familiar, one where no words were needed to fill the space. The world had become so still, so void of sound, that even the river's gentle flow felt like a soft murmur in the distance.

But then, something inside you stirred. You turned your face toward Kento, your ghostly eyes distant, yet sharper than usual, as if the weight of everything you were feeling suddenly found its way to the surface. It felt important, this moment — like you had to say it.

“You know…” you started, your voice soft, but enough to break through the stillness, “Sometimes it feels like you’re all I can hear.”

Kento, who had been walking beside you, glanced at you with a small frown, his brow furrowing slightly. He slowed his pace, unsure of where you were going, his expression focused on understanding your words, making sure he didn’t miss anything. He didn’t speak right away. He never did, always giving you the space to explain, always waiting until you were ready to say it all. That’s how it was. That’s how he wanted it.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently, his voice laced with curiosity, the same care he always took to hear you out.

You let your gaze drift ahead again, looking at the river, but your mind felt far beyond it. “In this world… everything else is so quiet.” you said, your lips curving upward slightly, though it was bittersweet.

You continued, smiling back at him. “The birds are gone, the hum of life has faded. But you… The sound of your breath, your voice when you choose to speak. It cuts through the silence. All the time. It always keeps me sane.”

As you finished speaking, Kento’s hand found yours, slow and steady, the rough warmth of his fingers curling around yours, grounding you. His gaze didn’t leave your face. You felt his eyes searching you, trying to understand, trying to hold on to the weight of your words. You knew he couldn’t hear the exact meaning behind them, but you could feel that he understood — he always did.

His eyes softened, and there was something unspoken in his gaze that made your chest ache. Kento didn’t need to hear you to feel the depth of your thoughts. He’d always been able to read you, even without the sound of your voice.

He exhaled, taking a moment before speaking again. “And you… You’re all I can see.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the way he said it so simply, so truthfully, made the air around you feel charged. Kento stopped walking, and for a moment, you both stood still, the only movement being the gentle pull of the river’s current.

“The rest of the world….” he continued, his voice low but steady. “It’s gray. Empty. But you… You’re vivid. You’re technicolor. You’re… everything.”

He trailed off, and a faint flush spread across his cheeks, but it was the quietest of moments, where the world felt like it had paused to let those words sink in. Kento’s voice was always steady, but now, there was a soft vulnerability in it, a quiet tenderness that made your chest tighten with something you couldn’t quite name.

Your fingers squeezed his, and your heart felt full, full in a way that only moments like this — quiet, soft, and real — could make you feel.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was nothing more needed. The weight of the world could wait. In that instant, you both had each other. And that, in this broken world, was everything.

The two of you stood there for a moment, the world silent around you, but the connection between you both felt louder than anything else. The emptiness of the world, the stillness that had replaced what was once alive, couldn’t touch the bond between you. It was as if time itself had slowed to give you both this moment — this quiet, profound space where nothing else mattered.

You didn’t need to hear him to understand how deeply he cared. You could feel it in the way his hand held yours, steady and strong, as though he would never let go. You could feel it in the softness of his gaze, in the way he looked at you like you were something irreplaceable, something worth protecting in this broken world. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t empty. It was full of everything that had never needed to be said.

And he didn’t need you to see it to know the same. The way you leaned into him, the way your presence filled the space between you, made it clear. He saw everything in your small, quiet gestures, in the way you trusted him, in the way your fingers curled around him like they had always belonged there. You didn’t have to speak to tell him that he was everything to you. He felt it, loud and clear, through the warmth of your touch, the stillness of your eyes.

It was a rare kind of quiet. One that was full of everything that mattered more than anything else. The world around you had long since been swallowed by shadows, but here, in this moment, with him by your side, it was like you had created a new world of your own. One that couldn’t be broken, even by the silence, even by the ruin.

It wasn’t about what was lost. It was about what you still had. And, for now, that was enough.

You stood there beside him, the silence enveloping the two of you, and something about the stillness felt like the perfect moment to say the words that had been lingering in your heart for so long. Your voice was soft, almost as if you were afraid the world would swallow your words before they could reach him.

“I’m… I’m really happy, you know?” you said, turning your face toward him, the warmth of his hand still holding yours. “I’m happy that I’m here with you. Even in all this… darkness. Even when everything’s falling apart. I’m happy to have you by my side.”

Kento blinked, his caramel eyes softening as he looked down at you, his hand squeezing yours just a little tighter. He didn’t say anything, just waited for you to continue, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, a silent invitation for you to speak your heart.

“I know that if the darkness ever… consumes me….” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper. “I’d want to have you with me again. In the next life. I’d want you to be by my side, even then. Even if everything was different.”

Kento’s brow furrowed, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes as he processed your words. His voice came out in a soft, almost unsure tone, “Even if I look bad? If I’m different…?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes, always.” you said, your voice steady, unwavering. “It doesn’t matter. I’d still be happy to sit beside you. No matter what. Even if you were just… a rock I had to carry. I’d be happy.”

His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, it seemed like he was struggling to find the words. But there was something in his eyes. It was a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something almost vulnerable — that made your heart flutter.

He pulled you a little closer, his hand cradling yours gently, and his voice, when it came, was softer than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t need to be anything else, then. I’ll be your rock, as long as you’ll have me. You’ll never have to carry me alone.”

You smiled, a small, quiet thing, but it was enough. Enough for both of you to know that no matter what this broken world threw at you, you had each other. And that, in the end, was more than enough.

And if you did find yourselves reborn, in another life where everything was new and different, you'd carry this with you. The love, the quiet moments, and the promise to always be there, side by side.

══════════════════

ONLY DARK DAYS TRULY CAME AND WENT, EVEN IF YOUR SPIRITS WERE HIGH. The days had grown darker again. The curses had become more relentless, their presence more suffocating.

It wasn’t just the way they twisted and tore through the remnants of civilization, but the way they seemed to feed off the very air. It was as if the fear, pain, and grief of those still left in the world had reached a boiling point.

Kento’s face had hardened with the growing realization that the curses had started to evolve. They were bigger now, more dangerous, more ferocious than ever before. It wasn’t just that the world had broken.

It was that the darkness was feeding off every lost soul, every fragment of hope that had been shattered along the way. It was as though every bit of suffering, every tear, was fueling the very monsters that stalked the earth.

He glanced at you, his expression grim but resolute, as you both stood in the ruins of what had once been a safe place. The walls around you had cracked and splintered, the air thick with the residue of battles fought and lost. Both of you were bruised and bloodied, wounds that had become all too familiar over time.

“They’re getting stronger, I fear.” Kento murmured, his voice tight with the weight of the words. He was staring into the distance, eyes clouded with concern. “The curses… I think they’re feeding off the grief. The fear. The pain. It’s like… it’s escalating. The world’s been broken, and now it’s feeding them.”

You didn’t need to say anything. The truth was written on your face — and in every ache in your body, every breath that rattled in your chest. The world was closing in, suffocating you both. The curses weren’t just hunting anymore. They were becoming the shadows that swallowed everything.

You looked at Kento, your eyes hollow from exhaustion, and the weight of your thoughts threatened to drown you. Maybe this is the end, you thought. It was hard to escape the creeping feeling that all of it — the fighting, the running, the hope you both clung to. It might soon slip through your fingers like sand.

“I don’t know how much longer we can keep doing this…” you whispered, your voice betraying the fear you tried so hard to suppress.

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, and despite everything, you could still hear the silent, insistent whisper of doubt clawing at you. Is this how it ends?

Kento turned toward you, his gaze softening, though his own fear was buried deep beneath the surface. He took a slow breath, as though trying to steady both of you with the quiet strength he always carried.

His hand found yours, and though the grip was firm, it carried an unspoken promise. That no matter how bad things got, he would never let you face it alone.

“I don’t know either, I really….” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. He stops himself before nodding with resolve. “But we’ll face it together. We’ve made it this far, right? Even when things got hard. We’ll keep going… Whatever comes next, we’ll deal with it. Together. Okay?”

You nodded back at him. But even his words, as reassuring as they were, couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was closing in. The curses were out there, bigger and angrier than ever, and the weight of it pressed down harder with every passing moment. Still, Kento held your hand tightly, as if his touch could be the anchor in this storm.

But deep inside, you couldn’t help the growing fear.

What if this was the end? What if there was no more fight left in the both of you?

Would the darkness truly, finally swallow everything that had been?

As you held tighter to him, letting him be close to you, letting his warmth rule your cold fingers — you prayed to whatever god there is. You pray that It wasn’t the end yet. You hadn’t given up yet. You prayed for more time. You prayed and you prayed.

But you know that perhaps there was no god.

And everything was a miracle that had run out of luck.

Yet, even then, you found yourself holding firm.

If this was the final stretch, if the end was truly coming… You would face it together. No matter how hard it got. You have to. You will not part from Nanami Kento, not in this life. Not in the next. You would not let that happen. Not ever.

Kento’s hand tightened around yours, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. The sudden screech of a curse, followed by the sounds of pounding footsteps, cut through the air, and your heart seized with panic.

Before you could process what was happening, Kento was already moving, urging you forward with him. You stumbled behind him, trying to match his pace, but every part of you screamed in terror, the distant snarls of the curses closing in, faster than you'd ever imagined.

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your heart hammering against your chest like it was trying to break free. The world blurred around you — not just because of the adrenaline, but because you couldn’t see the way Kento could. You could only hear them coming.

The deafening sounds of claws scraping against stone, of hissing, snarling voices, and the unmistakable thud of massive feet hitting the ground. Fear blossomed in the pit of your stomach, threatening to overwhelm you.

The noise behind you grew louder, closer, and you felt your body freezing in place for a brief moment, the weight of it all trying to drag you under. Kento’s voice cut through the panic, steady and firm, pulling you from the storm of your thoughts.

“Don’t fear it.” he said, his tone strong but gentle, like a lifeline thrown into the chaos. “I’m with you. Trust me.”

His grip on your hand tightened, a silent promise that he would never let you go. You could feel the reassurance in the way his fingers locked with yours, as if he was willing you to find courage again, even when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

You barely had a chance to respond before he looked over at you, his brow furrowed in intensity. “Do you trust me?” His voice was clear and unwavering, despite the chaos surrounding you.

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky but steadying as you forced yourself to focus on his words. His presence was grounding, the only thing that remained familiar in this world of terror. You nodded, gripping his hand even tighter, your voice raw but certain.

“I do.”

It wasn’t just a promise; it was a truth that felt like it was carved into you, deep into your bones. In a world that had been shattered, Kento was the one thing you knew you could count on.

“Then we’re getting out of this.” he said, his voice low but filled with an unshakable confidence. “I swear to you.”

Without waiting for a response, he pulled you forward, running faster than before. You focused on matching his steps, not daring to think about what might be behind you. Every part of your body screamed to stop, but you held onto the certainty that Kento was right beside you, leading you through the storm. The curses were closing in, but you didn’t have to face them alone.

You and Kento barely made it to the clearing, your breath ragged and desperate as the curses closed in behind you. But to your horror, it wasn’t just a safe haven. The place had been overtaken by the same dark creatures that had been chasing you. The curses were everywhere — larger, more monstrous, their grotesque forms looming in the distance, ready to swallow everything in their path.

There was no escape.

There was nowhere to run.

This was it.

You felt the ground beneath you tremble as the curses’ twisted forms approached, a guttural, bone-rattling growl filling the air. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked around, panic setting in. But then your eyes found a sharp metal pipe on the ground. Without thinking, you scrambled toward it, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Before you could grip it tightly, however, Kento was already there. His hand shot out, grabbing the pipe before you could. His movements were swift, but there was a sharpness to his focus that only came from years of training, years of survival in a world that had long lost its sense of safety.

With a swift motion, Kento swung the pipe toward the nearest curse, the metal screeching through the air as he lashed out. He was a blur of controlled force, using every bit of his strength to push back against the wave of curses.

You could feel the shape of his mouth, his jaw tight as he screamed, though the sound was lost in the chaos. His breath came in harsh gasps, sweat dripping down his face as he fought to keep the monsters at bay.

But it wasn’t enough.

It was never going to be enough.

Time had run out.

Kento’s movements slowed, exhaustion and pain taking over as the curses relentlessly advanced. He stumbled, his knees buckling beneath him, and in that moment, it was clear, the battle was too much. Overwhelmed, he fell to the ground, landing hard against the cracked earth.

You rushed to him, heart dropping into your stomach as you knelt beside him. The curses were drawing closer, their forms massive and powerful. Fear rushed through you, but you refused to leave him.

You took his hand, his fingers trembling as they grasped yours. The world around you felt like it was closing in, the suffocating weight of everything pressing down on you both.

Kento’s face was deathly pale, his body trembling as he lay there, clearly drained. But he didn’t let go of your hand. He clung to it like a lifeline, his eyes flicking to you as though searching for something — anything — to hold onto.

Tears welled in your ghostly eyes as you held his hand tightly, trying to be strong for him even as your heart shattered. The curses continued to grow, becoming more monstrous, their bodies glowing with an ominous, fiery light. The world around you seemed to twist and ripple, the air thick with the stench of their power.

Without thinking, you leaned down, your hand moving to gently cover Kento’s eyes. The light from the curses was blinding, and you didn’t want him to see it — the chaos, the terror, the overwhelming explosion of destruction that was coming. You didn’t want him to see the world collapsing around you.

A tear slid down your cheek as you held your hand over his eyes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. You could hear his soft, ragged breath beneath you, the quiet tremor in his body as he clung to you, needing you just as much as you needed him.

“I’m here.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the growing chaos. “I’m here with you, Kento. Always.”

Kento’s grip on your hand tightened even more, and you could feel the wetness on his cheek where a tear had slipped down. He was scared, just like you were. But in that moment, all you could do was hold him, hold onto each other, as the world seemed to shatter around you.

The curses were growing, the air crackling with their power. You didn’t know how much longer you had. But in this moment, as Kento’s trembling form pressed against you, you felt a quiet resolve settle in your chest. No matter what came next, you would face it together. You would never let go. Never, never never—

The moment stretched on, suspended in the chaos, as time seemed to slow. The curses were closing in, their eerie glow illuminating the world around you, painting everything in hues of fire and decay.

Their twisted, grotesque forms swayed like shadows, blotting out everything that once was beautiful. There was no escape now. You could feel the cold, suffocating weight of the inevitability pressing down on you both.

But in the midst of it all, in the suffocating grip of the approaching darkness, you held onto Kento as if he were the only thing that made sense in this broken world. His hand, though trembling, was still strong in yours, anchoring you in a reality where the two of you existed. It was where love still mattered, even if the world had crumbled around you.

You could feel the heat from the curses, the air thick with their power, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you drew him closer, pulling him into your embrace as if to shield him, even though you both knew there was no way to protect each other from the inevitable.

The space between you vanished, leaving only the steady thrum of your heartbeats, both wildly racing in their own way. Your pulse was loud, drowning out the sound of everything else.

His face was near yours, the pain in his eyes apparent but mixed with something else. A sense of peace. A quiet acceptance, as though the words you had shared were all that mattered now.

“I love you.” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a prayer.

Your heart was raw, wide open, vulnerable in a way it had never been before. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t afraid, that you didn’t fear the end. But with him here, with his presence filling your world, you knew that you had lived a life worth living.

Kento’s gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, and for a fleeting moment, it was as if the chaos outside melted away. His hand, now pressed firmly against your chest, was the only thing you could feel. His breath, warm against your skin, was all you needed.

His words were soft, but they carried the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. “I love you too.” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “I always have.”

The words hit you like a wave, sweeping away any lingering doubt. The world might have been breaking around you, but here, in this moment, with his hand in yours and his body against yours. Nothing else truly ever mattered. No curses. No impending doom. Nothing. Just him. Just you. Just the love of his life.

And even as the ground shook beneath you, even as the curses closed in, your hearts beat together, a rhythm of shared understanding. It was the final, beautiful connection in a world that had forgotten what peace felt like. The darkness outside didn’t matter. It couldn’t touch the bond you shared, not even in its final moments.

Kento’s eyes, though filled with fear, also held a quiet determination. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not without making sure you knew. Not without making sure you both had one last, shared moment of peace. His grip on you tightened, as though trying to hold onto you with every ounce of strength he had left. He didn’t need to say more. His actions spoke volumes.

“I’ll always be with you.” he whispered, the promise hanging in the air like a fragile thread, one that neither of you were ready to break, even if the world around you was collapsing.

You pressed your forehead against his, the world fading into the background as the reality of the moment settled in. This was where you were meant to be. And no matter what happened next, you knew you’d be okay as long as you were together.

The world around you seemed to close in, the curses drawing nearer with each passing second. The ground beneath you cracked and groaned as though it, too, could feel the weight of the inevitable end.

But in that small, fragile bubble between you and Kento, time stretched out, holding you in a quiet eternity. Everything else blurred and dimmed, leaving only the two of you, holding onto each other as tightly as you could.

His breath was shallow now, but it was still there, still warm against your skin. You could feel the faint tremor in his hand as it grasped yours, the weight of the world pressing down on him, just as it was on you.

Yet, even in this moment of impending loss, there was a strange kind of peace. The peace that came from knowing that you had found someone who truly understood you — someone who had walked with you through the darkest of times and had never once turned away.

“I don’t want this.” you whispered, your voice trembling, but it was a truth you couldn’t hide. "I don't want to leave you, Kento. Not like this. I don’t even have a name.”

Kento’s eyes fluttered shut, his forehead still resting against yours, his voice soft but steady. “I don’t want it either. But we’ve come so far. We’ve been through hell together... and even if this is where it ends, I’m glad it was with you. I’m glad it was with someone who understood me.”

Your heart felt as though it might burst, the love you felt for him growing beyond what words could express. The gravity of the moment hung in the air between you, but instead of feeling like a heavy weight, it felt like a lightness, a quiet acceptance of the journey you’d shared. There was no regret. There was no what ifs. There was no hesitation. Just the certainty of love.

And then, in the silence, you heard it. Not the sound of the curses or the chaos surrounding you, but a faint, barely perceptible shift. The ground rumbled, and for a split second, it seemed as though the air had thickened. It was a strange kind of stillness that felt almost like a breath held in the universe itself.

“Love.” He whispers to you, causing you to look at him. “That’s your name.”

You could feel the tears rush from your ghostly orbs. “Thats….That’s a beautiful name.”

“Yeah, it is.” Kento smiles at you, tears too rushing down his face. It's warm orifice falls on your hand. “Because it’s who you are. My love.”

You couldn’t breathe as you pulled him closer to you, tears rushing more than ever before. “I know.”

You felt Kento’s grip tighten, his voice a whisper against your ear. “We’re not alone, are we?”

A strange energy seemed to pulse through the air, vibrating with intensity. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Something was changing. Something was happening. It was something you couldn’t quite place, but it was there. The curses loomed closer, but in that moment, you felt... something else. The possibility of something more.

It was then that you realized — you hadn’t given up. Even if it was the end, there was still courage in you. You had held onto each other so tightly, to the very end, that maybe, just maybe, that love was powerful enough to change things.

The world outside might have been consumed by the darkness, but in this small, intimate space, the light between you was enough to push back the overwhelming weight of the curse. You looked at Kento, his caramel eyes shining even in the face of the inevitable. He was holding you. He was still there, still fighting with you. And that was enough.

“Maybe we’re not meant to go out like this,” you whispered, almost as if speaking the thought aloud would make it real. “Maybe... maybe we get another chance.”

He presses a kiss on your temple. “Maybe in another life, my love.”

Kento met your ghostly gaze, his eyes soft with a mixture of hope and acceptance. He didn’t speak, but the way his thumb traced circles against your palm told you everything you needed to know. Even in the face of the world’s destruction, in the face of everything that had been lost, you were still together.

And maybe, just maybe, that was all you needed to face whatever came next.

The curses grew louder, their grotesque forms now within arm’s reach, but there was no fear left.

You had each other. And that was more than enough.

A camera glimmers in the silence of the rubble.

182 notes · View notes

ggukivrse · 3 days ago

Text

THE ART OF PRETENDING - JJK | 04

but somewhere between fake kisses and real feelings, you start to wonder if letting go was ever the right choice at all.

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings: exes to lovers, fake dating, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, (eventual) explicit sexual content, swearing, alcohol consumption, i want them to fuck already sigh, ft. seokjin, namjoon, hoseok, jimin, taehyung, yoongi + four female ocs

word count: 5.2k

notes: i actually managed to get this one out early as promised yipeee!! this was very hastily edited cuz i wanted it out by today, but tysm to j @tranquilreign for beta reading!! idk what i’d do without u pooks :’) likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are very very appreciated! enjoy reading my lovies <333

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⤷ chapter four — halley’s comet

i was good at feeling nothing, now i’m hopeless / what a drag to love you like i do

Jungkook used to call you sunflower in the summer.

Not because of the flower itself — he never cared much for metaphors like that. But because every time the sun was out, you’d tilt your head back, eyes closed, face tilted towards the sky like you were trying to soak up every last drop of light. He’d tease you for it — call you predictable — then press a kiss to your forehead like it was instinct.

You tilt your head back now and the sun kisses the same spot. His lips don't.

And for some reason, it's the only thing you can think about now as the warmth bleeds across your skin, soft and steady. The boat rocks gently beneath you, the scent of salt lingering in the air. Laughter bubbles up from the other end of the deck, and you open your eyes behind your sunglasses, squinting toward the sound.

"Hyung, I still can’t believe you actually pulled this off," Namjoon says, nodding at Seokjin, who’s standing at the front of the boat.

Seokjin doesn’t even try to hide his smug grin. "Please. When have I ever let you down?"

"Should we make a list?" Yoongi mutters from his seat, but his tone is lazy, not sharp. He’s nursing something with ice in it and hasn’t moved much since boarding.

The engine hums beneath the conversation. You’re all sprawled out across the deck, sipping on melting drinks and soaking in the sunshine.

Somewhere behind you, Hoseok curses as a gust of wind nearly steals his hat. Haeun laughs too loud. Taehyung’s lying flat on his back with his eyes closed, Yasmine tracing lazy shapes on his chest with her finger.

Ari shifts beside you, adjusting the corner of the towel you’re both lying on so that it doesn’t bunch beneath her back. Her arm brushes yours, warm from the sun, and you feel her turn her head toward you even before she speaks.

“You guys okay?” she asks, soft and easy, like she’s just making conversation. Like she isn’t cracking open the air between you and Jungkook with three simple words.

Your body stiffens — not visibly, not enough to draw attention — but your fingers freeze mid-swipe against the condensation of your cup. You don’t answer right away. You can’t. Your brain rushes to catch up.

You glance toward the other end of the boat. Jungkook’s there, laughing at something Jimin just said, the wind catching at the hem of his shirt. Too far to hear you. Too busy to notice.

You look back at Ari.

“Huh?” you say, feigning light confusion, buying time. “What do you mean?”

She lifts her sunglasses slightly onto her head and looks at you more directly, less playfully now. “You and Jungkook. Did you guys have a fight or something?”

You blink at her. Then shake your head, too fast.

“No,” you say. “No, we’re fine. Why?”

Ari shrugs one shoulder, almost like she regrets asking. “I don’t know. You just feel... off. A little.”

You exhale through your nose and angle your face away from her, pretending to squint at the water. “We’re not off. We’re just... tired, I guess.”

“Okay,” she says, but it’s not full agreement.

You finally glance back at her, trying not to let anything show. “Do we really seem that weird?”

She hesitates, then gives a small, knowing smile. “Not weird. Just a little different.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Different how?”

“Dunno,” she says, settling back onto her elbows. “Usually you guys are either glued together or trying to beat each other at whatever game’s going on. Now it’s just... less of that.”

You almost laugh, but not because it’s funny.

Ari doesn’t push. She never does. She just lets the silence sit for a moment before speaking again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it a thing. It’s not a big deal.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I get it.”

She glances toward the others. Jungkook’s crouched by the drink cooler now, talking to Hoseok about something. You look away before he catches you watching.

“You know,” Ari says after a beat, “it’s not like people expect couples to be perfect all the time.”

You swallow. “We’re fine, Ari.”

She holds her hands up. “Okay. I believe you.”

And you think maybe she does. But she’s still watching you with the kind of look that says she knows something’s sitting underneath. Something you’re not saying.

She lies with you for a few more short minutes in silence before slipping away with a soft pat to your leg, joining Kiara and Haeun near the back railing.

You let your head fall back against the towel with a quiet sigh. The sun blurs through your lashes and your drink is nothing but sugar water now, flat and warm. You swirl the straw absently, trying to shake off the weight of that conversation.

It’s not like she was wrong.

You just wish she didn’t see so much.

The spot beside you shifts slightly, and you glance over just in time to see a cold can held out toward you.

“Figured you'd want something actually drinkable,” Jungkook says, nodding toward your cup as you take the drink from his hand.

You lift the can to your forehead before cracking it open. The cool metal soothes your skin. “Thanks."

"No problem." He lowers himself onto the towel next to you, close enough that your arms brush when you both move to get comfortable. You don’t move away. Neither does he.

You tap the can against your thigh, condensation already dripping down your leg.

Jungkook stretches his legs out beside you, arms behind his head, gaze on the sky like he’s trying to read something in the clouds. The silence between you is comfortable, but your chest still hums with the residue of Ari’s voice. You tap your can against your thigh again — once, twice — then let the words tumble out before you can second-guess them.

“She asked if we were okay,” you say, not looking at him.

Jungkook turns his head slightly, but doesn’t speak.

“Ari,” you clarify. “She asked if we had a fight.”

He lets out a slow breath through his nose. “What’d you say?”

“I said no.”

A pause.

“And then?”

You shrug. “I said we’re just tired.”

Another silence, thicker this time. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, steady and searching. You refuse to look at him.

“She didn’t buy it,” you add after a beat. “Not completely.”

Jungkook sits up slowly, arms resting over his knees. His tone is quieter now, more careful. “Think anyone else noticed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. Ari’s always been... observant.” You finally glance at him. “She wasn’t pushy or anything. Just— curious," you say with a shrug.

Jungkook simply hums in response.

You watch the side of his face. There’s a faint shadow along his jawline, the kind you used to trace with your thumb when you thought no one was looking. You shake the thought loose before it sticks and take another sip of your drink.

“I mean, what do they want us to do?” you mumble. “Make out on the boat?”

Jungkook chokes on a laugh — not the soft kind, but the genuine kind that comes out sudden and loud, like it caught him off guard.

You glance at him. “I’m serious.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still grinning. “You say that like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world.”

“It is,” you deadpan. “You want to traumatise Yoongi? That man hasn’t moved in an hour. You think he’s got the energy to witness that?”

That makes Jungkook laugh again, head tipping back. For a second — one small second — it’s just him, sunlight caught in the strands of his hair, smile easy and unguarded like it used to be. You look away.

He leans back beside you, bumping your arm with his in the process. “Okay,” he says. “So, no making out on the boat.”

“Glad we’re setting boundaries.”

He gives you a sidelong glance. “We just have to... I dunno, turn it up a notch.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He shrugs, still watching the clouds. “Be a little more couple-y. You know. Lean on me sometimes. Laugh at my jokes.”

You scoff. “You think me laughing at your jokes is what’s gonna sell this?”

“Absolutely,” he says, deadly serious. “That’s the most unrealistic part of our relationship now. If you start doing that, everyone’ll think we’re closer than ever.”

“Right,” you deadpan. “Because this all hinges on me fake-laughing at your stand-up routine.”

He grins. “Exactly.”

You shoot him a look, but there’s no heat behind it. “So what else? You planning on feeding me grapes next?”

“I could,” he says, suddenly thoughtful. “But someone might throw themselves overboard if I do.”

Your mouth twitches before you can stop it — not a full laugh, but close. More breath than sound. You shake your head like you’re trying to brush it off, but the smile lingers for just a second too long.

There’s a beat of silence. A shift in tone that’s almost invisible, but not quite.

“Maybe just... ease into it,” he says. “We don’t have to overdo it. Just the little things.”

“Little things like what?” you ask, suspicious.

He shrugs. A breeze moves across the deck and a strand of hair falls across your face, sticking to your lip.

Before you can reach for it, his fingers are already there — brushing it back behind your ear.

You freeze.

Not too dramatically. Not enough for anyone to notice. But inside, everything stills.

Jungkook doesn’t pull away immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary — maybe two. Then he draws his hand back like nothing happened.

“See,” he says, “this is why Ari’s catching on. You’re a terrible actress.”

You blink, caught between five different emotions. “Excuse me?”

He huffs out a laughing breath. “You didn’t even flinch the other day when Taehyung almost touched a jellyfish, but this? I tuck a little hair behind your ear and you go full statue.”

“Because it’s weird!” you protest, flustered now. “You don’t just— touch me like that anymore.”

The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them, and there's a pause.

Jungkook goes still. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, and for a second, you think he might actually say something real — something raw.

But then he exhales through his nose, masking it with a crooked half-smile.

“Right,” he says, voice lighter than it should be. “My bad. Next time I’ll just let it smack you in the face.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but your mouth twitches like it wants to smile.

He notices. Of course he does.

“You’re trying not to laugh,” he says.

“I’m trying not to shove you off the boat,” you correct.

“Same thing.”

He lets your words hang in the air, smiling in that way he does when he knows he’s gotten to you, just a little. It’s not smug exactly. It’s softer than that. Like he’s letting himself enjoy something small, something fleeting — and trying not to ruin it by pointing it out.

You shake your head and look back toward the horizon. The water is endless, all shifting blue and gold, and the sun is starting its slow descent, softening everything it touches.

Jungkook sits up, arms resting on his knees. You don’t look at him, but you can feel the shift — the way his attention settles on you in full.

“I meant it,” he says after a moment.

You glance over. “Meant what?”

He shrugs one shoulder, careful. “That it’s the little things. That’s how people believe it.”

You arch an eyebrow, sceptical. “People? Or you?”

There's humour laced in your words, but your smile falters when he meets your gaze.

“Both.”

The breeze picks up again, brushing against your skin, tugging gently at the edge of your towel. You catch it with your elbow, more for something to do than anything else.

You’re the one who looks away first — not because you’re uneasy, but because if you don’t, you might say something you can’t take back.

The silence stretches, and eventually you lie back, arm draped over your eyes to shield them from the sun.

“I’m still not fake-laughing at your jokes,” you murmur, voice flat but quiet. “Just so we’re clear.”

Jungkook laughs, but it’s lighter this time. The warmth that usually comes with the sound isn't quite there.

“Fair,” he says. “But maybe... maybe don’t flinch like I’ve slapped you every time I touch your arm.”

“I make no promises.”

He smiles. “Didn’t expect you to.”

The room is quiet except for the occasional hiss of steam from the bathroom and the soft swish of fabric as you move. The sun is lower now, casting long shadows across the floor, and the salty breeze sneaks in through the crack in the door.

You’re barefoot, crouched beside the dresser in a black satin dress that fits cleanly at the waist and skims your frame like it was made to. It’s simple, elegant — the kind of thing that photographs well even when you don’t try. Your hair is mostly curled, but the last roller is still clipped near the crown of your head, half-forgotten.

You’ve been retracing your steps for the past ten minutes. First calmly. Now a little less so.

“Come on,” you mutter, pushing aside a pile of folded clothes with the back of your hand. “Where the hell are you…”

You wore the earrings all day. You remember clipping them in this morning before the boat ride, the pearls small and elegant, the kind that sat just right against your jaw. They’d survived volleyball, swimming in the pool, even lying half-asleep by the sea. But now, just when you're supposed to get dolled up for one of Yasmine’s “sunset glam” photoshoots, one is gone.

And of course, it's your favourite pair. A gift from your mom the day you turned twenty.

You crouch next to the bed and run your hand along the rug for the fourth time. No glint of metal. No satisfying clink. Just a couple stray bobby pins and a sock that might be yours, might be his.

The bathroom door opens behind you with a quiet click. You hear it before you see him.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls out. “Have you seen my—”

He stops.

You glance up from your crouch to see him standing just outside the doorway to the bathroom, towel-drying his hair with one hand. He’s in sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his waist, and nothing else. His skin is still damp, a faint sheen catching the last of the light. His hair sticks up in unruly spikes, and there’s a crease from the towel pressed into his shoulder.

He pauses when he sees you on the floor in your dress, face flushed with frustration, one roller still pinned in your hair.

You straighten up. “I lost my earring.”

Jungkook blinks once. Then twice.

You don’t wait for a response. “The pearl ones. I wore them all day, I definitely had them on earlier. I think I might’ve lost it on the boat or something, or maybe at the beach, I don’t know. Fuck— if I dropped it in the ocean, I’m going to lose my mind.”

You brush past him towards your bag, and start digging through the little zip pouch where you sometimes toss jewellery when you’re tired. “And Yasmine’s going to have a meltdown if I’m not ready in five minutes. I mean, not a real meltdown, but she’ll definitely give me that disappointed look. You know the one.”

You don’t know why you’re rambling. Maybe to fill the silence. Maybe to ignore how he’s still standing there, towel now slung around his neck, jaw ticking like he’s trying very hard to keep his expression neutral.

He steps back into the bathroom without saying anything. You hear the low rustle of a drawer opening. When he re-emerges a few seconds later, he’s pulling a plain black t-shirt over his head, the fabric catching slightly against damp skin. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just crosses to his side of the room and scans the floor near the nightstand.

You risk a glance at him, then look away quickly. “It’s fine,” you say, quieter now. “You don’t have to help. It’s probably gone.”

He crouches down anyway, lifting the corner of the rug with one hand.

He doesn’t look at you or ask any questions. Just scans the floor like if he stares hard enough, it’ll reveal something.

You sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple. “I just really liked those earrings.”

“I know,” he says quietly.

You glance back at him.

He’s sitting back on his heels now, hands braced on his thighs. There’s a faint crease between his brows, like he’s still somewhere else.

Then he says, without looking at you, “You look good.”

The words are soft, sincere even, but they catch you off guard.

When you don’t respond right away, he clears his throat and stands, walking over to the dresser and running his hand along the edge, like the earring might have magically perched itself there.

You swallow. “Thanks,” you say finally, voice low.

He nods once, then double taps on his phone screen to check the time. “They’re probably waiting.”

You nod too, even though you still haven’t found the earring. The one that made you feel just a little more like yourself. The one that matched.

You take one last look at the floor, then straighten slowly. You adjust the roller in your hair without thinking, but your fingers move sluggishly now.

Jungkook’s already at the door, hand resting on the knob like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something. He glances over his shoulder.

“I’ll tell them you’ll be a minute.”

"Thanks."

He shuts the door behind him softly, and you let out a quiet sigh, turning toward the small jewellery box on the nightstand.

You sift through it with practiced fingers and pull out another pair — not the ones you wanted, but good enough.

As you clip them in, your hands move on instinct, your thoughts somewhere else entirely.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind you, the sound too sharp against the stillness of the room.

Your skin is clean, warm, dewy from the last step of your skincare routine. You pad across the floor and let your body fall onto the bed softly. The air leaves your lungs in a long, tired sigh as your legs dangle off the edge, your hair still damp from the quick rinse you took after coming back. The mattress dips beneath you, then settles.

The room smells faintly of clean cotton and the trace of your conditioner — the kind you only use for special things, because it costs a little too much and reminds you a little too much of before.

Your dress from earlier lies draped over the back of a chair, the earrings you ended up going with still sitting in your palm. You set them down on the nightstand without much care.

You’d smiled for the camera. You’d posed, you’d laughed, you’d tilted your head at just the right angle. It was fun in the moment and everything had gone well. The pictures were probably beautiful.

But you’re annoyed. And tired. And the kind of restless that only comes when something small goes wrong and you know it’s not about that small thing at all.

You sit up just enough to grab your laptop from the side table and the camera from the dresser. Yasmine had given it to you after begging you to upload the pictures onto your laptop since she didn't bring hers.

The familiar beep of it powering on is strangely comforting, and you scroll through a few thumbnails before plugging it in. A progress bar creeps across your screen as the files transfer. Slowly, of course. Nothing ever moves fast when you want it to.

You stretch out again, laptop resting on your stomach, and start clicking through the images as they load.

At first, they’re all from today.

Yasmine behind the lens, as always. The golden hour light is flattering. Everyone looks sun-kissed and effortless — mid-laugh, mid-step, mid-spin. You see yourself in frame: eyes half-lidded, wind teasing your hair, smile tugging at your lips.

There’s a shot of you and Kiara, and one of Ari piggybacking Haeun into the water. A blurry one of Jimin striking a ridiculous pose mid-jump while Taehyung points in mock horror. They'd come to join in at the end, both more than a little tipsy.

You click through them slowly, deleting a few accidental ones and some you don't think are the best.

Then, without meaning to, you scroll a little too far.

Today bleeds into yesterday, and yesterday into the last few years. One second it’s this trip, and the next it’s pictures you'd uploaded from your own crappy little camera. A party in someone’s dorm. A night spent crammed onto a too-small couch. A table cluttered with takeout boxes and half-empty cups.

You didn’t even remember some of these being taken.

Your face in mid-yawn. Jungkook blurry in the background, reaching for popcorn. Yoongi asleep on a beanbag with a party hat sliding off his head.

You find yourself smiling as you click through them all, before your finger comes to a still.

A thumbnail catches your eye. One of a video with no further label or context.

You pause, cursor hovering, before double clicking on it.

The video starts with a shaky frame — the camera shifting as you adjust it, then settling as you hold it up with both hands.

Jungkook stands in front of a claw machine, sleeves pushed up, jaw set with quiet determination. The glow of the machine paints him in soft neon blues and reds. There’s a Totoro plush front and centre, slightly tilted, half-buried under a heap of other prizes.

Your voice comes from behind the camera, already amused. “This is a lot of pressure, baby.”

“I’ve trained for this,” he says, without looking at you.

“You’ve failed three times.”

“That was just a warm-up.”

You huff a laugh. “That’s what you’re calling it now?”

Jungkook moves the joystick with purpose, eyes narrowed like this is life or death. The claw slides left, then back, then hovers over the plush.

“This is it,” he says.

“I believe in you,” you deadpan. “I mean, statistically, you have to get it eventually.”

The claw descends. You both watch as it surprisingly manages to grip the Totoro. Not perfectly — it's a little too far to the side — but it lifts nonetheless.

“No way,” you breathe.

It swings. Wobbles. Then drops cleanly, right into the chute.

There’s a second of stunned silence from you behind the camera.

“No fucking way," you laugh, genuine disbelief laced in your voice.

Jungkook bends down, reaches into the machine, and pulls out the plush. He turns toward you, holding it out with a smug smile.

“You actually did it! Oh my god— wait, let me see— he’s so cute!”

The frame swings back up, catching you reaching out for the Totoro, turning it in your hands, squealing softly like you can’t believe it’s real.

And Jungkook — he’s looking at you.

The camera somehow manages to catch it perfectly.

He’s not laughing or gloating, just watching you. A soft smile pulls at his lips, dimples making an appearance against his cheeks. His eyes are steady but a little dazed, like he’s taking in more than just the moment. Like he can’t help it.

You don’t see it in the moment — too distracted as you hug the plush to your chest and start thinking of what to name it — but the camera does.

“Can't believe that you actually managed to get it," you say, shifting the camera to show the plushie properly.

“Course I did,” he says. “You wanted it.”

You giggle, mumbling "Cheesy fuck." But the smile is clear in your voice, and Jungkook simply laughs before the screen cuts to black.

You stare at the screen for a while, fingers still resting on the keyboard, frozen in place like even they know you’re not ready to move yet.

There’s a warmth spreading low in your chest, starting at your ribs, curling in your stomach, settling somewhere just under your collarbone.

You’re still smiling. Just a little. That soft, involuntary kind you used to get around him when he said something dumb on purpose. Like when he tried to teach you how to play some impossible game at the arcade and kept losing so dramatically you suspected he was doing it just to make you laugh.

You thought that part of you had burned out. Gone cold after the breakup. But sitting here now, wrapped in soft clothes and the hush of this room, staring at a frozen screen where his laugh used to be — you realise it didn’t.

It just went quiet.

And now it’s creeping back in through the cracks, blooming in your chest with a stubborn sort of gentleness.

Because the truth is, you remember that night. You remember how he looked, focused and determined and weirdly proud of himself over a claw machine. You remember the weight of the Totoro plush in your hands. You remember walking home with him, the two of you talking about what you’d name it and him insisting that if it was going to live in your bed, he should get visitation rights.

And you remember how easy it was to love him.

Not in a dramatic way, but through the small things. In the way he listened. In the way he noticed when your shoelace was untied before you did. In the way he always, always looked at you like that — like you were it.

And not just the way he looked at you, but the way you felt looking back. Because even after everything, even after the silence and the distance and the effort you’ve poured into pretending you’re fine, the truth is that it never really went away.

That warmth tightens in your throat, a little too full to swallow. You blink down at the laptop, like maybe it’ll help. Like maybe if you just sit still enough, breathe slow enough, you can keep the feeling contained.

The screen has gone to sleep now, casting the room in a dim glow. Outside the window, you can hear the ocean, its soft waves rolling in and out quietly.

You close your eyes, just for a second.

But the quiet moment is interrupted when the door opens with a small click.

You sit up just enough to slam the laptop shut, a little too fast, the sound echoing louder than it should in the soft hush of the room. Your pulse jumps. You don’t even know why. Reflex, maybe.

Jungkook pauses in the doorway.

“Oh,” he says, voice low and a little slurred. “Shit. Thought you were asleep.”

He’s leaning on the doorframe, one hand still on the handle like the room is swaying more than it is. His top is slightly damp around the collar, and his hair’s a mess.

You blink at him. Say nothing at first.

He squints toward the laptop on your lap. “You working on something?”

“No.” You slide it aside, shake your head once. “Just… photos.”

He nods like that’s a satisfying answer, though you’re sure he didn’t really hear it. His attention shifts to the bed, and then without warning, he pushes off the door and flops onto the mattress beside you.

Not the far side. Not right on you either. Just… close.

You instinctively scoot half an inch back.

“Whoa,” he mutters into the pillow, one arm sprawled above his head. “This mattress is nice as fuck.”

You glance down at him. He’s half on his side now, eyes on the ceiling, a faint smile tugging lazily at his mouth.

“Why didn’t you come down?” he asks, sudden but not sharp. Just curious.

“I was tired,” you say.

He hums — thoughtful, but not convinced. “Lame excuse.”

“I’m allowed to be tired.”

“You’re always tired.”

You exhale, not quite a sigh. “You’re always drunk.”

That pulls a muffled laugh from him. He turns his head toward you slightly, cheek pressed into the pillow. “Not always.”

You glance at him. “Tonight?”

“Not my fault,” he mutters. “Jimin dared me to match his shots. Dumb fuck.”

You shake your head — not at him, but at the image of it in your head. “Sounds like him.”

Jungkook shifts again, rolling fully onto his side to face you. His arm stretches out across the blanket, fingers dragging idly over the fabric between you like he’s drawing invisible lines without thinking.

The air dips quieter. Softer.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, almost absently.

You reach up, brushing your hair off your face. “Shampoo, probably.”

He hums again, eyes heavy-lidded now. “The one you always stole from me.”

“I didn’t steal it,” you say, casually.

He smiles into the pillow. “Right. Borrowed forever.”

You shake your head — more amused than you’d admit out loud — and look away, toward the open window where the breeze has picked up just enough to shift the curtains.

"You looked really good too. In that dress. I mean— not that you don't look good without it. Not like without it, without it, just— y’know, you always look… pretty."

You can't stop the quiet laugh that tumbles from your lips despite the heat spreading across your cheeks. "Go to sleep, Kook."

He hums in response, and it doesn't take long for his breathing to settle into something slower.

You pull the blanket up over your lap and lean back against the headboard, trying not to think too hard about the warmth pooling between you.

You shift slightly, pulling the blanket higher.

The laptop is still balanced on your legs, almost forgotten now. You reach over and place it on the nightstand, careful not to knock over the earrings still sitting there. One catches the light and glints for just a second before going still again.

“Can you move?” you murmur, nudging his leg with yours. “I need the blanket.”

Jungkook groans dramatically, but rolls away from you, flopping flat on his back with one arm thrown over his face. “You’re so demanding.”

“You’re in my way.”

“You’re lucky I like you.”

The words slip out so fast and so soft you don’t have time to react before he’s already tugged the blanket down to your waist with one hand, helping, not thinking.

You lie back slowly, head against the pillow, trying to keep to your side. Jungkook moves around beside you — one knee bent, one leg stretched out. His foot brushes yours once, unintentionally.

His arm loosely drapes across your waist as he gets comfortable. You glance down, but say nothing. He’s already half-asleep, breath evening out, face turned toward you like he’s forgotten where he is.

You don’t move his arm, though, you don’t lean into it either.

You just let it be.

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lo1k-diamonds · 4 months ago

Text

A woman's best friend 💜 Part 2

PAIRING: Taehyung x (f)reader

SUMMARY: After falling into temptation once, you and Taehyung tried to navigate the aftermath as best as possible. It turns out none of you can handle it, so your friendship is bound to end one way or another.

WORD COUNT: 7,127

GENRE: f2l, smut (uni AU setting)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: mutual pining, angst, dirty talk, body worship, nipple play, oral (m receiving), fingering, protected sex

A.N. I know part 1 was bittersweet, and I am a sucker for happy endings, so here is part 2 with a shiny new ending for this couple 😚 I think it has the right vibe for Valentine's Day, enjoy! (Thank you to @eerieedits again for the awesome banner 💜)

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs | AO3 | Wattpad

The rhythmic thud thud on the window made you pull the curtain and look out the window. It was storming outside, and the night lights glistened as cars passed in the roads below and people enjoyed their Saturday night.

Not you, though. Once, you had two types of Saturdays: the ones you’d go out with all your friends and the ones you’d stay home hanging out with Taehyung. Lately, you had neither, and it was all your fault.

You still remembered a night like this one. Turning away from the window, you let your gaze wander your living room. Back then, Physical: 100 kept playing on the TV screen for a long time, serving as background noise as you stayed in Taehyung’s arms. You lost track of time, then, staying awake and worrying about what that night would change.

You never discussed it further with Taehyung. He had fallen asleep, breathing gently with his arms around you, and you stayed perfectly still, aware of every ticking second. The conflict inside your chest was paralyzing — you didn’t want that night to end, but you also feared it continuing. The more you touched or interacted with him intimately, the harder everything would get.

Those thoughts kept you awake, staring at the ceiling. So you recalled when the TV timed out and switched off, prompting you to go to the bathroom and come back only to find Taehyung exactly where you left him, naked with a blanket partially covering him as he slept. You didn’t regret slipping back into his embrace; you’d never get another chance. He wouldn’t know you had decided to return to his arms or how much you needed his warmth to calm down and fall asleep.

When you woke up, you found out a summer storm had broken out. It rained so much, then, but the same thud thud from the windows was unable to draw you away from his arms. All you could do was linger in his warmth for one second longer while you worried. Dreading and fearing how you’d ever look at him and not remember. How you’d brush each other and fake not having butterflies in your stomach. What if you saw him with someone else? How were you supposed to be his wing-woman again?

Of course, Taehyung had reacted the way you expected him to when he woke up. He chuckled at the pouring rain outside, happy that he had his leather jacket with him, and smiled dazzlingly when he saw you in a robe with your morning hair.

Then, before he left, he reassured you again, “Don’t worry about it.”

But you were yourself, and you had been right to worry. The problem wasn’t that you had slept together but that it had changed something inside your heart. Those feelings you once thought buried refused to vanish, the hope you once thought dead was alive and kicking, and to make things worse, you couldn’t forget.

Taehyung invited you for an ice cream, and you remembered what his eating you out felt like. He told you about this movie he wanted to see, and you knew what his baritone voice teasing you would sound like in the dark. He was excited about the new classes he was taking, even more so because you were there, too, and you shuddered at the memory of him kissing you as he came deep inside you, holding you so close you felt like a treasure. He promised to take you home when your group of friends decided to check out a new club, and you dreaded the whole night, both because he could choose to hook up with someone and because you wished that person could be you. Finally, he invited you to work on a group assignment together, and as you listened to him passionately go on about the topic, you wondered if you’d ever be able to reel your feelings back in.

You screwed yourself up over that one single weak moment. That yes had turned your life upside down, and while Taehyung kept his promise of being your best friend, you couldn’t.

So you did the only logical thing — you started avoiding him. It was inevitable — if his proximity made it impossible for you to get over him, then the only natural solution was not to have him close.

You weren’t sure he noticed, but you knew he was understanding. He never mentioned the situation and treated you like nothing happened. He never pushed to know why you started saying no to night outs or confronted you about being tired every time he invited you over. You were never able to invite him to come over and be alone again in that very same living room, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, so it didn’t surprise you never asked about it.

In the end, it hurt you more than anyone. You were frustrated with yourself; you asked for this, it was all your doing. But you were helpless. Sometimes, you could act normal, and your interactions were playful and warm, as always. He poked you under the table? You knew there was a joke coming. Or he’d lean into your ear to whisper something, and your heart wouldn’t somersault and expect a caress. However, other times, you couldn’t help but withdraw your hand or avoid sitting next to him and letting such interactions bloom. Because you’d read into them or remember or wish for things to be different, and you hated it. Hated it all.

You were about to turn on the TV and search for something that could take your mind off him when the doorbell rang. You wondered if the neighbor had put the wrong door number on the food delivery again, but Taehyung was outside your door like an apparition.

Despite his black leather jacket, he looked drenched and dejected. He raised his dark eyes to yours. “Hi, can I come in?”

You didn’t hesitate to reach out to pull him inside. “Of course, let me grab a towel!”

You let him enter your place first and close the door behind him, then rushed to your bathroom to get a towel. Only when you came back to the living room did you realize it was odd that he was there.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with the others tonight?” you asked as you threw the towel over his head to dry his dripping hair. “How come you’re here?”

He grabbed your hands and pulled the towel away so he could face you. “I can’t take this anymore. We need to talk.”

“Alright! Who wants to drink what?”

Taehyung barely heard Jimin's question as your group of friends sat around on the couches and loveseats. That was their corner; they always sat there, and as he waited for everyone to settle down, his heart dropped. The loveseat you always shared with him was empty. You weren’t there again.

Taehyung asked about you quietly, trying to conceal the way his heart was squeezing inside his chest.

“She’s not coming,” Jimin answered, then shrugged. “Something about being tired.”

“She’s always tired lately!” Hoseok huffed as he sat next to Jungkook, who hummed.

“Maybe she’s sick?”

“When’s the last time we’ve seen her?” Jin wondered, and Namjoon sat on a beige pouf.

“Couple of weeks? Anyway, why are you asking?”

“You would know better than us,” Yoongi croaked with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Don’t you have classes with her?”

“Aren’t you best friends?”

Taehyung nodded absentmindedly as they resumed choosing their drinks, and the weight inside his chest didn’t relent. Yes, he saw you; he should know about you. He should be able to understand, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t. You were slipping between his fingers, and he just couldn’t sit idly by and watch it happen anymore.

“I gotta go.”

He rushed outside without hearing their protests, and the pouring rain greeted him. It wasn’t enough to dissuade him; he raised his leather jacket’s lapel to cover his neck and made his way in between the people trying to reach the nightbars and get cover from the rain. You lived fifteen minutes away; you were just within reach.

It was all his fault. He should have thought twice about crossing the line with you, even when you said yes. Not just for you, but for his own sake. That night was branded in his memory, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move on from it. And he tried. He tried doing everything right. He tried pretending nothing happened, that he didn’t want anything more than friendship with you, that it wasn’t a big deal. He tried looking at you as purely as a friend would, and he tried looking at other people the way he knew he shouldn’t look at you. Yet, even in the few moments he was able to entertain the thought of someone else or get engrossed in a conversation with them, it was always the same. The moment you crossed his mind, he was reminded why it wouldn’t work. He’d be talking with someone clearly interested in him and instantly thinking about your kiss, your smile, your gaze as you kneeled before him, your teases. The person in front of him would touch his thigh, hinting at something more, and he’d instantly raise a wall. You were on his mind, and even if being friends was the only thing you wanted, it didn’t mean his heart or body wanted anyone else.

He craved you. That night wasn't just a dream or a type of heaven he wished had become permanent. It was a risk in every sense. He knew he wasn't just fucking you. He didn’t want just to leave you a slobbering mess, he wanted more. He wanted to look into your eyes and see it — the moment you'd realize how good you felt together. How perfect it was and could be. He wanted to look into your eyes and see the moment you'd fall in love with him.

And that was his biggest mistake. That one moment of pure greed — it wouldn't happen, he knew that. Even if you were curious about him, that wouldn't just happen. Best case scenario, you'd scratch the itch, be it for sex or curiosity, and move on. Worst case scenario, you'd regret it and never look at him the same way again.

He suspected the latter was happening despite his efforts. The whole night he had you in his arms, he struggled to enjoy it after the way you revealed your worries. His heart burned with a discomfort he couldn’t voice while he prayed that he wouldn’t lose you. That, no matter what happened, you'd stay in his life.

But he should have known. It was worse than a drunk one-night stand with someone from your friend group. You were best friends; of course, it was hard for you.

You started pulling away, and he instantly noticed. At first, it was the little things. You'd withdraw your hand from his or flinch ever so slightly when he leaned in closer. You didn’t invite him to spend time or the night in your apartment, just the two of you, and he understood why. The worst was that you withdrew from your typical antics and cut your smiles short. You’d be sitting next to him and not even look his way, and it withered his heart. Of course, when you did turn to him, he always had a smile for you. He wanted to be a comforting presence no matter how fleeting your interactions were, but still, it only got worse.

It hurt when you avoided sitting next to him or dancing, and then you started disappearing. You didn't show up to all classes anymore, and you didn't hang out with your group of friends, at least not when he showed up. Then he'd text you to ask about it and notice that even through messages, things had changed. You texted less and less, and the distance was breaking his heart.

He kept running through the stormy weather with his hair dripping down his forehead. He didn't care; nothing mattered at this point. It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and there were only three or four texts in between. What he feared was happening, it was undeniable, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. He needed to see you and try one last time. It would be his dying breath, but at least he'd try. For once, he'd bare his soul and hope you'd do the same and forgive him. He just didn't want to lose you. He loved you so much.

He crossed a delivery boy at your apartment building entrance and ran upstairs to consume some of that nervous energy. Then, he rang the doorbell, and you opened the door for him, and his heart convulsed. God, he missed you so desperately.

“Hi, can I come in?” he mumbled, lost in the sight of you in your robe that brought him such bittersweet memories.

You pulled him inside without hesitating. “Of course, let me grab a towel!”

You closed the door behind him, and he took his shoes off so he wouldn’t make a puddle in your living room. Yet that was the last thought he had before where he was hit. That couch, that place. His heart ached again as he turned to you, and you threw a towel over his head.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with the others tonight?” you asked as you patted the towel to dry his dripping hair. “How come you’re here?”

He grabbed your hands and pulled the towel away to face you. “I can’t take this anymore. We need to talk.”

He saw the second you tensed as the towel fell to the floor, but you didn't withdraw your hands, and he was not holding back.

“You said you didn't want things to change, and I'm trying. I'm trying so hard to hold onto you,” he said, pain lacing his voice. “But I can't if you keep pushing me away like this.”

He paused, looking at your startled and tense expression, waiting for you to say something, but you were frozen.

He lowered his hands but kept holding onto yours. “I'm sorry if I ever hurt you. If I pushed you to do something that made you uncomfortable with me. It's my fault, I got carried away with my own selfish feelings,” he confessed, tearing up with a sad smile. “I promise I won't ever touch you again or bring up anything inappropriate, so please.” He let go of your hands gently. “Please forgive me. Please say we can still do something about this because I can't— I don't want to lose you.”

His voice wobbled, and you frowned, shaking your head.

“I’m the one who is sorry,” you managed to say despite the tears pushing to get out. “Because it’s my fault. My selfish feelings, not yours. I'm the one who said yes and then couldn’t handle it. I'm so sorry, I— I should have told you, but I— I’m so sorry—”

You stammered, rubbing your face in embarrassment, distraught. You needed to tell him; you couldn’t let him think he did something wrong. But what if he thought staying friends would worsen things and decided to end everything?

“Told me what?” he asked, anxiously stepping closer to you. “Please, tell me,” he requested softly, but you kept hiding your face. “Please.”

Your hands started shaking over your face, and he suddenly realized you were holding back your cry as you trembled.

His heart sank. “Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

You uncovered your face to look at him. “No, you didn't.”

He held his breath as he observed you cleaning your cheeks. “But you’re crying,” he pointed out, desolation tearing his chest. “I'm so sorry! I promise I won’t ever do it again!”

You wiped your cheek annoyedly and reached to grab his jacket. “Stop!”

“I never wanted to hurt you, I—”

“Stop it!”

“I won't ever touch you again, I just—”

“Stop saying that!”

He stayed put, no matter how angrily you held onto his jacket. “I’ll never forgive myself if—”

“STOP!” You had to shout and pull him to you so firmly that he stumbled in your direction. Desperation was taking hold of you as sobs shook you, but his disheartened eyes kept you focused. “You never hurt me, I don't want you to think that for a second!”

“But… you've distanced yourself from me.”

“I know,” you croaked, looking down at his lips curved sadly.

“You said you didn't want things to change.”

“I know…”

“You said you didn't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I did…”

Taehyung waited for you to say something or look into his eyes again, but you didn't.

So he asked, “Did it?”

“Yes.” Your eyes finally rose from his lips, and you had to be truthful. “I can't be your friend anymore.”

Taehyung paled and stared at you, speechless, livid. His heart broke; his worst nightmare was—

“I look at you, and friendship doesn't begin to cover how I feel.”

“What?” He blinked, befuddled as his thought process stumbled on itself.

“I should have told you, but I never thought you’d— I knew it would be risky, but—” You licked your lips, having a hard time ordering your thoughts. “At that moment, when you asked, I just— Of course, I said yes, I— I’ve wanted you for so long, I— I should have known it would mess me up— I begged you not to let things change because I knew— I knew they would change for me, and—”

You were struggling to breathe and say everything you wanted, and he supported your arms as you held onto his jacket.

“You wanted me?” he asked softly, and you nodded. “What changed? Please… Please tell me.”

His gentle expression and supporting hands gave you the courage you needed. “Everything— everything changed,” you confessed. “I can’t look at you the same way. I can’t look at you without wanting to touch you or kiss you. I’m sorry, I—”

He cradled your cheeks suddenly and crashed his mouth to yours, and you whimpered ever so softly. You gripped him closer by his leather jacket and kissed him back, not hesitating for a second to meet his tongue with yours. You wanted to lick that taste back into your life, that warmth, that comfort you missed terribly.

You thought he felt the same way when he halted your kiss to a simple press of your mouths as though he needed to feel it. When he pulled away, his eyes were red and glistening, eying you with such emotion your heart trembled.

“You wanted to kiss me?” he asked, still cradling your cheeks.

“Yes.”

“To touch me?”

You nodded anxiously. “Yes.”

“That's what changed?”

“No.” You looked at his lips again before facing him. “I've always wanted to, but we were friends. Now, I just can't pretend anymore.”

“You mean… you don't see me as a friend?”

You shook your head still in his grasp.

“So you don't regret it?”

You could see him relaxing, his features soothing as you two talked, so you shook your head again. “I don't. Do you?”

“No,” he replied instantly, smiling. “I did when I thought you pulled away from me because I hurt you, but—”

“You didn't,” you assured again, pulling him closer. “Do you… Could you see us as more than friends?”

“Fuck yes,” he rasped, brushing your cheeks gently. “I want to be yours. I’ve wanted it for so long. There’s nothing else I want.”

“Really?”

Your eyes watered as you looked into his. Was this a dream?

He smirked. “Really. You better start believing it because if you let me into your bed again, I’m not leaving. Like ever.”

You chuckled and bit your lip. “If I invite you, I expect you to never leave. We cross the line and get rid of it. We say things that make us feel like more than just friends because we are more than—”

He crashed his lips into yours again, letting go of your jaw to pull you closer by the waist until your chests were glued. His leather jacket was still dripping from the rain, but you didn't care. If he kept kissing you like that, he wouldn't have it on for much longer anyway.

“Say it, then,” he mumbled between kisses. “You know the drill.”

You chuckled. “Do I?”

He hummed, chasing your lips.

“I only know the one to give you the green light to fuck me into a slobbering mess—”

His groan as he dragged his lips to your neck made you clench around nothing, and you bit your lip.

“But what if I don't want just to fuck?”

He pulled away to face you, with blown pupils and wet lips, held in check.

“What if I want to be yours?”

“I'll make you mine,” he promised, grabbing your hair on the back of your head so you'd face his dark eyes. “I'll make you forget ever not being mine.”

“In one of those five ways you thought of?”

Your whisper was not simply a tease, and you suspected he knew it when he groaned and leaned in to peck your lips.

“I've since thought of many more.”

He licked and nibbled your lips, and you had to close your eyes with the shudders.

“You thought about fucking me?”

“I haven't thought of fucking anyone else ever since I met you.”

Your cheeks burned as you snapped your eyes open. “What?”

“You heard me,” he murmured against your chin.

“But— I helped you— with that other guy—”

He shrugged. “Nothing happened. We got outside the bar and went our separate ways.”

“You never told me that!”

“Well, what could I say?” he said, speaking close enough to you that you could feel his breath on your lips. “That I wasn't really interested and went home to fuck my fist while I thought of you? I didn't think you'd appreciate that—”

It was your turn to grab his hair and pull him down to kiss you again, consuming just a little bit more. Your tongue darted out to lick, tease, and take, and he fought you with a low groan. Whatever you wanted, he wanted it too if it meant you were going to kiss him like that.

“You have— no idea— how much— that drives me crazy,” you managed to say between kisses. “The thought of you— thinking of me— fuck—”

He seemed to get an idea because his hands lowered to your ass to squeeze it, catching you when you jumped into his arms. You never stopped kissing, even as he walked with you in his hands, until your back hit a wall.

You didn't care how or where he fucked you as long as he did. Of course, your mouth was busy as you opened it more so he could deepen the kiss, so you couldn’t tell him. But you could show him in the way your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close. Your heavy breathing matched his as your hands explored and tried touching him everywhere you could, but his jacket was in the way. He likely felt the same, seeing the way he fought to open your robe and tried getting it out of the way so he could kiss down your neck into the cleavage of your pajama top.

You chuckled; the two of you were making things harder by trying to undress each other at the same time. His eyes crinkled as he matched your smile and gave you the lead. His lips trailed your jaw as you pulled your robe open and shrugged it back to give him access to your neck and collarbone. Your skin instantly drew his lips, allowing you to push his jacket off him while he was happily distracted.

You tried to get rid of his sweater, too, but couldn't. As soon as his jacket hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around you again and buried his face between your tits, squeezing you to him so firmly you couldn’t breathe. However, you could feel the way he was rutting into you and it drew a quiet moan as you fisted his hair.

Goosebumps ran over you as he licked your cleavage, dragging his tongue over every inch of skin he could reach, and you needed more. You released one hand to reach in between your bodies with the single goal of touching him, and it wasn't easy. His ruts were unpredictable, not leaving any space between you, but you needed to grasp his desire for you, feel it in the palm of your hand.

When he raised his lips to kiss you again, it gave you the opportunity to unbutton his jeans. His tongue pushed through your lips, deepening his kiss so much you moaned quietly, muffled. Yet it just complemented and amplified your urge to grab him, and you did.

Your hand finally reached inside his boxers to grab his dick and pull it out, and he groaned. Your hand clamped shut around him, fisting him unapologetically, and he had to break your lips apart to moan softly. You adored the way he held his breath, letting his forehead fall to yours as he closed his eyes, taking in everything you gave him. His sweet expression sparked your desire even further, so you kept pumping him, delighted with the precum dripping around your fingers and his knitted eyebrows.

You'd go to the last consequences of this with pleasure, but he suddenly grabbed your hand away and pressed himself to you. You were squished between the wall and his body, but you had zero reservations about it, especially when he kissed you like that. His mouth crushed yours as his hips thrust into you, jumpstarting a carnal hunger that consumed you. His hand dug under your pajama top, scratching your skin up to squeeze your tits, and you moaned, bucking your hips to match his. His tongue was so deep in your mouth that you were drooling, both desperate to moan and feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your unfortunately still-covered cunt. You were fucking desperate to have him, and you'd gladly cum right here and now if he filled you up.

“Tae,” you tried, barely able to part your lips from his. “I need you inside me, please.”

He moved in a flash, checking his pants were open enough to give him space before letting you stand to pull your pants down your legs.

You gripped his shoulders for support, then sighed when he leaned in to nip just under your ear. His fingers skimmed your wet folds before pushing two fingers in roughly, unleashing your moans as he touched all the right spots inside you.

You were so ready to blow you could feel the enthralling pleasure tingling in your nerve ends.

But somehow, you had a discerning thought. “Condom… Tae… Grab a condom.”

He stopped suckling on the skin of your neck to eye you with a lustful gaze.

“I'm not on the pill,” you whispered, brushing his luscious hair off his eyes. He looked absolutely dazzling, and you wanted him to fuck you till you couldn’t even stand, but you did not want accidents. Not yet, anyway.

He blinked, his hand pulling out of you to feel his pockets. “I… I don't have one. The last time… I never got another one.”

You chuckled and he pouted, and you could read his thoughts.

“Not like I planned for this to—”

You kissed him, then pushed him back to have space to move away from his hold. “I know, I'll get one.” He tried to catch you, but you jumped over your clothes gracefully, only turning back to tell him, “Bed. In my bed.’

You got to your roommate's room to search for condoms. Hopefully, she had some, even though she spent more time at her boyfriend’s than there.

It wasn't hard to find them on her nightstand, and you took the whole box with you. It was not like she'd need them tonight.

You wondered how Taehyung would greet you but still staggered at your bedroom's entrance. He was lying on his back, arms spread over your bed sheets as he stared at the ceiling. Having heard you come in, he raised his head and promptly sat up.

Even though his pants were unbuttoned and his clothes drenched, nothing would have given away what you were doing just minutes before. Except perhaps his dark glistening eyes running up and down your figure before they set back on yours.

You were naked from the waist down, yet suddenly, it wasn't enough. His eyes were curious and electrifying, and you wanted to keep going. Your heart was thumping loudly inside your chest, the thrill of that moment making you tremble, but you waited.

He raised his hand for you to grab, and your heart finally settled as you took it. Your fingers fit in his perfectly, and as he hugged you to him, resting his head on your chest, you finally stopped trembling. On the contrary, you caressed his head calmly as he held you. It felt like reaching home at long last. It was the first time you were touching each other like that, with such vulnerability and with all the cards on the table, and yet it was the best type of feeling.

He pulled away to look up at you, and you caressed his face gently, letting that ease echo between the two of you. It was real — his hands on your waist, his sparkling eyes, and the adoration in them. You knew then that it was as validating and fulfilling for him as it was for you that you were finally in each other's arms.

“Did you find one?” he asked hoarsely, and you nodded. “Do you want to stop?”

“Hell no.”

You frowned, and he wetted his lips. “I don't want to move too fast and mess this up. I care so much about you.”

You brushed the back of your fingers down his cheeks sweetly. “Me too. But we're not moving too fast. Right? We've been friends forever, and we want to be more than that.”

He nodded, his eyelashes fluttering as he enjoyed your touch. “Please.”

“Then let's,” you whispered, leaning in to nuzzle him. “I don't want to wait.”

“Then we don't.”

He was ready to get up and touch you, but you simply smiled and pecked him before getting on your knees. You could see how his lips parted expectingly as his eyes transfixed on you, making you giddy. You gave him an excited smile and reached for the hem of his pants, and he helped you get them off. Then you bit your lip as you reached and grabbed his erection again.

His head dropped back at the softness of your touch as he mumbled your name, and you nodded. “I want to suck you off.”

You never thought you'd get another chance to grab that juicy cock, let alone delight yourself in its smoothness and taste. You would have admitted to Taehyung how much you thought and fantasized about a moment like that one, but the words evaporated from your mouth. Your only thought was his taste, and as soon as a precum drop glistened over his slit, you dove in.

You sighed as he groaned above your head, instantly grabbing your hair out of the way as you sucked. You didn't even realize how intensely you were doing it, bobbing your head so he'd touch the back of your throat, because you were out. His cock pushing inside your mouth made you anticipate how he'd feel inside your tight walls, and his moans made your mind soar high, elated. Taehyung, only the one you had wanted and had feelings for forever, was right there, losing his mind with you. Because of you. Because he wasn't indifferent to you. He actually wanted you just the same, had feelings for you, thought of you, longed for you—

“Fuck— Wait—”

His voice was strangled, but you weren't listening. You here so dazed, clenching around nothing and high on your desire, that you only realized the reason for his warning too late.

His warm taste invaded your mouth, and you moaned, gushing between your legs at the thought of him losing control. Yet, in a split second, his hand wrapped over yours around the base of his cock so tightly it was almost painful for you.

Only then did you stop blowing him and pulled away, confused, and looked between him and his delicious cock. You had tasted cum for sure, and yet despite the way his dick twitched in front of you, there was no more coming out. He was groaning harshly, almost frustratingly, but you knew by his expression that pleasure was assaulting his nerve ends.

When he finally stopped groaning, his dark eyes opened. “What do you think you're doing?”

His voice was quiet, almost annoyed, and you just blinked up at him.

“You didn't tell me to stop.”

“I told you to wait.”

You simply shrugged. “You did say something like that, I just… I told you I wanted to suck you off.”

“And I told you I'd make you mine.”

“You still can,” you argued as he grabbed your hands to pull you up and get you on the bed.

“Not if I came fully.”

You shrugged and let him pull your legs around him as you leaned back on the sheets. “We have all night.”

“We have forever,” he underlined, making you chuckle as he got on top of you in between your legs. “Starting right now.”

You could only be amused and giddy with his assertiveness about making you his, and he smiled too. He brushed his hands along your naked legs, then leaned in to kiss your neck as his fingers got tantalizingly close. You tensed under him, gripping his shoulders. You waited impatiently, expecting to feel his touch any second and wondering how he'd react when he found out how ready you were.

“Holy shit,” he almost whined when his fingers slid along your slit. You moaned back, shuddering with his touch. You knew you were slippery and dripping, and now he did too. If the pool between your legs wasn't obvious, the sounds surely gave you away. “You're so ready for me.”

You moaned your agreement as you gripped the sheets. His fingers weren't eager like before; this time, he patiently dragged his digits along your folds, pressing gentle circles on your clit now and then. Your whole body trembled every time he did, letting his kisses and nibbles on your neck build you up so intensely that you didn't know what to do anymore. You were hot and trembling, and moaning just wasn't enough.

You gripped his hair in search of something, and his answer was to crash his lips to yours. The kiss turned consuming instantly, and you moaned into his mouth, completely overwhelmed. His fingers entered you and hooked, pressing into your sensitive flesh with lewd sounds, and you couldn’t hold on anymore. You tried whimpering his name in between kisses, and if anything, he firmly kept going with his fingers, both inside and out, over your clit. It drove you to pull his hair harshly back, parting your mouths with strings of saliva between you, yet you didn't notice. Your orgasm burst through you, and you lost sight of yourself, moaning desperately in his hold, gripping his hair so tightly, you surely pulled it painfully.

You noticed this when you came to, blinking at him sluggishly. Your fingers instantly relented their hold, yet absolutely nothing in his expression indicated any pain. On the contrary, he was enticed. He was looking at you as though you had bewitched him.

He raised his hand to brush the hair out of your face, careful not to use the fingers still covered in your slick. “You're so beautiful.”

You would have blushed if you weren't already hot and bothered. Instead, you met his lips with yours, kissing him more calmly than he was able to. You melted a bit more with how he matched your gentleness, careful not to push or impose. He was adorable, and you were not done yet.

“Too hot,” you whined when the kisses picked up steam. “Get rid of it,” you asked, pulling on his sweater.

He firmly pressed his lips to yours before rising to his knees and pulling the sweater off. Then, he saw you struggling with your robe and helped you. Your pajama top met the same fate as his clothes on the floor, and you giggled because before it could even happen, he was already grabbing your tits and licking a nipple wildly.

Moans interrupted your laughter as he licked and pinched, slurping your hardened nipples inside his mouth one at a time. You squirmed under him, trying to both grab him close and escape the onslaught. The more you writhed, the more you felt his hard dick pressed to your thigh, leaking against it as he rutted.

It drove you fucking wild because no matter how much you enjoyed having him eat your chest, you craved him inside you so much more right now. “Make me yours,” you begged, locking your glistening eyes with his when he looked up from the drooling mess he was making on your chest. “Don’t wanna wait, I need you.”

You noticed the red spots his lips were leaving behind on your chest, but you didn’t care because, in an instant, he was kissing you again. He stole your breath, diving in while you relished his hands tracing your curves until they caught your legs, spreading them so he could press his dripping cock and grind against your soaked cunt.

You groaned, unable to control your bucking hips to match him. The quiet moans out of his mouth burned you from the inside out, setting you on a path that could only end in you both consuming that passion sizzling between you.

But he pulled away from your lips, hiding in your neck and panting heavily as you moaned.

“Tell me where the condom is, or I’ll fuck you without it.”

You whimpered, feeling the way he slid across your folds length and rubbed your clit deliciously. “I’m so close.”

He uttered your name in a scold, the warning lingering as you kept bucking your hips. You opened your eyes to face him and bit your lip, so fucking close you could see it. You were tempted to throw all caution out the window and have him raw. To raise your hips so he’d get inside you right as you came around his thick cock, creaming him from tip to base. The very thought was risky; his current expression was already pure lust, holding on by a single thread. If you pushed him, he’d fuck you raw and right, just like you craved.

But you let your hips fall to the mattress and relented. “Right pocket of my robe.”

He felt the robe still under you and ended up raising his hips away from you before you’d both lose it. It made you sigh and feel beneath you as well, finally finding the crumpled part of the robe that had the pocket you both needed.

He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and got the condom on as fast as he could. When his eyes raised back to yours, and he grabbed your legs, pushing them to your sides, you clenched. His expression was dark and unreserved, as though the brakes had come off, and it made you shudder.

Yet when he aligned his dick with your entrance and sank in, he was nothing but respectful and careful, almost solemn. The way your tight embrace left him adrift was evident in the way his eyebrows knitted and his jaw hardened, but he didn’t ram inside you or let that feeling overcome his control. He waited for you to adjust to his size, but you kept clenching around him, prompting him to look at you.

You had felt him before, but it was just as earth-shattering as the first time. You simply shook your head as you sighed. “You feel so good— Don’t hold back!”

He almost growled as he let his hips snap to yours, and you let your head fall back. Your hips matched his, increasing the intensity of each thrust, and it was wild. You got lost in the sounds of skin slapping and moans and the heat overwhelming you from the inside out. He adjusted your legs to bend further, perfecting his angle to one that simply unleashed your voice with every slam and let him guide you to the finish line.

He knew you were close by the way your pussy sucked him in, tightening like a vice that barely let him move away. It made him tremble from head to toe as he groaned in your neck. “Just like last time— I've dreamed of this for so long,” he confessed, trying to kiss you, even as you both heaved and tried keeping that hallucinated rhythm.

“Me too,” you whimpered, searching for his eyes in the midst of it all. His hand wrapped around your hair, keeping your eyes on his as though he needed to look at you, too, and you squirmed with watering eyes. This time, you didn’t need to hide. This time, you could lose yourself because he was yours. “Please.”

You mumbled his name between moans as you begged, and he listened. He was lost in the pleasure, but he was attentive to you, noticing all the little cues he was only once privy to. You moved with him as your eyes rolled back closed and your nails dug into his shoulders, and he felt the shattering orgasm start around his cock before he heard your moans.

Your orgasm started his out of nowhere, but as he grunted and trembled in your arms, he had only exhilaration radiating from every pore. He spilled his cum as deeply as your quivering heat allowed it but quickly and eagerly opened his eyes to look at you. You were still trembling and moaning breathily with your lip between your teeth, but then you looked at him, and he knew.

He’d never catch the moment you fell in love with him, because the truth was, you already had.

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