starvvie

[starvvie]

Continuing 🖤

the princess bride | jungkook ( 2 )

synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.

pairing. jungkook | you + yoongi | you

genre. royal au, angst, smut, fluff

word count. 7.1k

rating. M

warnings. ❗️steamy scene, violence, threats, mention of rape❗️

a/n. chapters will be coming out whenever I'm able to post and they may vary in word count greatly ♡

chapters. 1 × 2 × 3

Freedom didn’t last long.

You managed to hold your own through the night, running and fighting against your dress that stubbornly would entangle in the branches of the tall bushes, draining you throughout. You barely caught on any sleep, trying your best to keep walking and pushing yourself toward your new-found goal—the borders of Keirn’s citadel.

But once the first rays of light greeted you, and the shadows of the night were long gone, even the woods couldn’t protect you from your father’s cunning.

The tall walls surrounding the kingdom seemed tranquil on this side of the border; completely unoccupied saved by the chirping birds that flew by. You had been counting on it since you knew this to be one of Keirn’s blind spots.

You approached the wall carefully, your head paranoidly snapping at any sound. It loomed above you, imposing and seemingly insurmountable. Inhaling deeply you reach for the dagger Yoongi had given you, its weight a comforting reminder of his promise. Holding it tightly, you find a small crevice in the wall, just wide enough for your fingers.

With a deep breath, you begin to climb. The rough stone bites into your hands and feet, but you press on, using the dagger to wedge into cracks for leverage. Each movement is deliberate, your muscles burning with effort. The climb feels endless, but the thought of Yoongi and the freedom that awaits you on the other side keeps you going. You think instead this is just the customary climb toward the tall window of the castle you grew up running from in the middle of the night.

Finally, you reach the top, pausing for a moment to catch your breath and scan the horizon. No movement. The kingdom lays quiet beneath you. You allow yourself to close your eyes even if for an instant, breathing the scent of the pine trees your home is known for, and the faint one of lilies. Arden’s borders are just there, waiting for you.

You open your fingers wide on a lazy morning stretch, and a smile, even if bittersweet, tugs at the corners of your mouth. You did it.

Carefully, you begin your descent on the other side, your grip firm on the dagger.

As your feet touch the ground, you swiftly place the dagger back in the strap around your thigh, relief flooding through you. Even with no belongings besides the dagger, or plans, that is what you feel, relief. You could make a life for yourself in the borders of Arden, you were sure of that.

But the respite is short-lived. Before you can take another step, a group of soldiers emerges from the shadows, their armor glinting menacingly in the early morning light. Leading them is the face of your eldest brother, Seokjin.

You gulp down the tears that threaten to blur your vision. In the space of one single night both of your brothers, the brothers you loved so dearly and thought to have a deep bond with, pierced a sword through your heart.

There is really nothing nor no one that beats the loyalty to your father, the fearsome king of Keirn.

“Y/n,” he calls out, his voice carrying a mix of authority and if you didn’t know better, sorrow. “Did you really think you could neglect your duties?”

Heart pounding, you take a step back, only to feel the cold steel of a blade pressed against your back. One of the soldiers had moved in behind you with lightning speed.

“Seokjin, please,” you plead, your voice trembling. “I can’t go back. I won’t.”

Your brother’s expression softens for a moment, a flicker of something—perhaps regret—crossing his face. But it is gone as quickly as it came. “The King has ordered your return. You know I can’t disobey him.”

You clench your fists, the dagger in its sheath a cruel reminder of your fleeting freedom. Your fingers tap gently the fabric of your dress as you ponder retrieving it and trying to fence your way through. But who are you kidding? Even if great with a blade, and sure you could turn tables with the odds you’re being dealt with, you could never hurt Seokjin.

You love him too greatly to strip the life out of him. And that’s what this situation would come to, as you know his soul well enough to ignore how he would only disobey your father’s orders if death were to fall upon him. “And what about what I want? He’s selling me like cattle!”

Seokjin sighs, stepping closer. “Sometimes, our duty is more important than what we want. Come quietly, Y/n. Don’t make this harder than it has to be…Please.”

The soldiers close in, their grip on your arms unyielding. As they lead you away, your mind races, searching for a way out. You glance back at the wall, the symbol of your almost-achieved freedom, and silently vow that this will not be the end. Yoongi’s promise echoes in your mind, giving you a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

“I’ll find you,” you whisper to yourself, the resolve in your voice strengthening with each step you take back toward the castle. “No matter what.”

The journey back to the castle was a blur of rough handling and harsh words. Seokjin stayed by your side, his presence both a comfort and a constant reminder of your impending fate. The soldiers led you through the familiar corridors, and though your surroundings felt like home, each step deepened your sense of captivity.

Once inside the walls of your childhood home, you were taken to your chambers. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and rose, but it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Servants you barely recognized bustled about, drawing a bath and laying out garments on your bed. The dress chosen for you, which you could pinpoint to be your father’s doing, was beautiful, but it felt like a cage, its silk and lace suffocating you.

You bathed quickly, the warm water doing little to wash away your anxiety. Every moment you spent in the tub, your mind raced with plans and desperate schemes to escape. But when you emerged, the sight of guards posted outside your door and under the tall window sill crushed any fleeting hope. It made you question if all these years going on silent escapades was indeed merit of your skills or just a jest your father allowed.

It made you feel like a farce.

The dress fit perfectly, of course, but it wasn’t yours. Although its silk was made of the softest blue, a color you were peaceful with, you had never worn it. Ever since you were little, you always dallied through bold and sometimes dark colors that enhanced your features. You weren’t made for the delicatessen this soft blue suggested, or better, you weren’t made for the role this color, the color of Ilya, demanded of you.

And so its fabric clung to your body, a constant reminder that even your own appearance was no longer under your control.

Servants that were never appointed to you before tightened the corset, fastened the clasps, and stepped back to admire their work. All the while being silent like stones. You felt like a doll, dressed up for display and to be ignored entirely.

Sat in the comber as the youngest of the maids fight your stubborn hair, you notice through the mirror more guards approach the hallways, blocking every possible exit. Your father had spared no effort in ensuring you had no means of escape.

Your thoughts go to Yoongi and his well-being. You don’t know what happened to him after fleeting his hut, nor do you find yourself brave enough to ask for information seeing that even your greatest confider has betrayed you so easily. So you hold onto the hope of Yoongi having managed to escape if his face not being amidst the guards is of any indication.

You are snapped out of your thoughts as you are dragged through the halls of the palace by a stern-faced soldier instead. He is also the one informing you that you will be having your lunch inside the carriage that will take you to your doom instead of the dining hall, as you protest in his arms.

The words sting, and you can’t suppress a shudder. Not that you would want to see his face at the moment, but your father didn’t even allow you to say goodbye to anyone else who mattered to you. Not to Binna, the cook who had raised you like a mother since you were an infant. Her warm smile and gentle presence had been a constant comfort… How could you imagine life without her and the sticky buns she made every time you were sad?

The thought of leaving without a farewell is not only a bitter pill to swallow but unfathomable.

As you are dragged your feet start caving a ragged track in the rough path of the entrance, you frantically scan the fleet that will escort you to Ilya. You see Seokjin leading it, sitting proudly atop his white stallion. What you don’t see is your own horse, Solas.

“Where’s he, Seokjin?!” you shout exasperated, the hands of the guards tightening around your arms as you mention diverge the path toward your brother. “Where’s Solas?” your throat gets hoarse from the sudden strain.

Seokjin doesn’t spare you a glance. And as he tries so hard to look forward instead of you, the message is clear and is delivered to you like a punch in the gut.

Solas won’t come.

They are forcing you to abandon everything, even the treasured things that could travel with you.

This is a lesson from your father. A way to say from now on you either abide by the rules or you won’t be allowed to have anything at all.

The thought of Solas’ gentle eyes and the way he nuzzled you for treats plague your mind, an invisible hand squeezing at your heart so hard you think you might stop functioning. And in a way, you do.

“Please,” you grab one of the maiden’s hands as you’re about to be pushed into the carriage. “Tell my brother- Tell Taehyung to take care of my horse. Please!”

Taehyung.

It’s only then that you realize you aren’t seeing your younger brother either. You choke on your words, your heart almost coming to a stop.

The pain of not being able to see his face or feel his embrace one last time is almost unbearable. Who knows when or if you will ever get the chance to do so again?

Taehyung had been more than a brother, in ways that Seokjin hadn’t been so; he had been your confidant, your rock, but more than that, the two of you shared a bond that words couldn’t fully capture. From a very young age, you had learned to communicate with just a glance, understanding each other’s thoughts and feelings without a single word. His absence now was a gaping wound in your heart, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever experience that kind of connection again.

You steal one last glance at the castle, hoping against hope that Taehyung might be there, watching from the shadows. But there is nothing, just the cold, impassive stone walls and the unwavering gaze of the guards.

You settle into the plush seat of the carriage deflating, the door closing with a finality that echoed in your soul. The carriage lurches forward, and you feel a heavy weight settle in your chest. Would Taehyung not even attend the wedding? Would you ever find someone who understands you as he did, who could communicate with a mere glance like best friends do?

As the castle fades into the distance, your eyes close, your head rocking with the shake of the carriage. Everyone you love, the life you were building for yourself, and everything that you are is being left behind.

This journey may as well try to break you… But it won’t.

That is your promise to yourself.

You won’t marry the King of Ilya.

You won’t ever not try to escape this fate.

Even if you have to die trying.

Your breath quickens as you find yourself enveloped in Yoongi’s arms. The both of you lie in a secluded glade, the moonlight filtering through the trees, casting a silvery glow over everything.

His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands roam over your body. His lips trailing hot, and tortuous slow kisses along your neck.

“Yoongi,” you call for him like a beacon, your voice trembling with desire. His name is like a prayer on your lips, a plea for more.

He immediately responds with a low, hungry growl, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that leaves you momentarily dizzy. Your bodies press together, and you can’t help but claw at his back.

You feel feverish as his hand slides down a sinful path between your breasts, fingers deftly unfastening the laces of your nightgown. You gasp against his mouth as the cool night air brushes against your bare skin, but his warmth quickly replaces it.

His touch is everywhere—tender, demanding, setting you aflame.

You arch into him as he squeezes your inner thigh, your own hands tugging at his hair, exploring the feel of his muscles taut under your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, your eyes half-closing in ecstasy. Yoongi’s lips curve into a Cheshire cat smile as he obliges, his mouth tracing a path down your collarbone, his hands lifting you higher into his embrace.

You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, feeling the heat and hardness of him through the thin barrier of your clothes. Pushing his hips down with your heel you almost unravel at the sound he makes.

Your head falls back, a moan escaping your own lips as he whispers your name, his voice thick with need. You are lost in the sensation, the world around you fading into nothingness as the both of you move together, driven by mad desire.

But then, something shifts.

The cool night air seems to grow colder, the moonlight dimming. Yoongi’s touch begins to fade, his presence becoming insubstantial.

Panic surges through you as you try to hold onto him, but he is slipping away, his form dissolving into mist.

“No,” you cried out exasperated, your hands grasping at nothingness. The glade around you begins to blur and dissolve, being replaced by the dim, familiar surroundings of the carriage now moving into the night. You are alone inside, sat at an erroneous angle, your body aching with unfulfilled longing.

It was just a dream.

The realization hits you like a splash of cold water, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You adjust yourself as you hear the clip-clop of the horses outside, staring up at the ceiling, your heart pounds in your chest. The vividness of the dream lingers, the sensation of Yoongi’s touch still ghosting over your skin.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the ache of loss settles in. You quickly wipe away the tears, you haven’t allowed anyone the satisfaction of seeing you crumble ever since you left Keirn.

It’s been two days now on the road. Every time you closed your eyes you had seen Yoongi’s eyes staring back at you, felt him, his touch, his kisses.

Every time he is ripped away from you by the cruel reality you swear to yourself this is just a reminder of what you are fighting for.

“No matter what it takes,” you mumble.

Not a second passes before you hear Seokjin’s voice coming from outside, “Y/n? Do you need something?”

During the day and the occasional breaks you take to eat and rest, he has been keeping his distance. Either because that’s the order he received from your father or because he feels guilty about it all, you don’t know. But at night, he always falls back to help guard your carriage, and every time you so much make a movement inside the damned thing he always checks on you.

You sigh, tired of the monumental turn your life made, and consequently your relationship with your elder brother. “No, I’m quite satisfied in my confinement, thank you.”

He says nothing else, and just like the previous night, you find solace instead in the soft melodies the hooves of the horses make against the gravel.

Your heart sank as soon as morning came and you saw yourself passing through the gates of Ilya’s castle. Looking through the small window of the carriage, Ilya’s kingdom revealed a breathtaking view that under different circumstances you would have been captivated by.

The castle’s towering spires seemed to reach toward the sky, adorned with intricate carvings that told tales of a rich and ancient history. Lush gardens surround the structure, filled with soft-colored flowers and meticulously pruned hedges that showcase the kingdom’s prosperity and attention to detail.

Everything seemed to fall into order, even the crystal-clear streams that flowed through the gardens, their gentle babble almost soothing. Almost.

You step out of the carriage once a sea of castle workers line up to greet you. You can’t help but notice every and each of them is impeccably dressed, not a thread out of place or a crooked button in sight. Their eyes to the floor, hands clasped behind their backs, all ready to serve.

Your stomach flips with the sight. Your memories float astray before your eyes. Binna with her apron full of flour, Jina, and Peggy all smiles with shaggy flower crowns on their heads.

Everything feels wrong.

You don’t even notice as Seokjin takes your hand and helps you out of the carriage, entwining your arm around his as he walks you to the front doors.

“Y/n,” he says as his eyes keep focusing forward, his voice tight with urgency. “This will be as far as I’m allowed to go. I’m expected at the front lines…I won’t be able to make it to the wedding.”

Your eyes widen with the news, heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean front lines? We didn’t declare war on Arden yet and—” you pause as the puzzle pieces all fall in place. Suddenly the rush of your wedding doesn’t feel so strange.

You remember Yoongi commenting on how they weren’t gaining territory over Arden at all, on the contrary, they were rioting and pushing the soldiers back. With this marriage, your father gained the men needed to make a difference on the front lines. They would be attacking soon before the surprise effect lost its spark.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say.

Seokjin comes to a stop and you follow suit. He turns to face you now and you see how his throat bobs. “I’ll do my best out there, so you do your best out here.” he chants something you used to say as kids and you force your jaw shut trying to fight the tears.

He’s going to the front lines.

Suddenly you’re back at being five, finding his already big for his age shoulders to be the only thing you needed to fight your fear of storms. “What if- What if something happens-”

Seokjin doesn’t pull you into a tight embrace like he used to, shielding you from the world. Instead, he flicks your nose, out of custom. Something he only does when you accomplish something that makes him proud. The smile on his face is measured and yet so full of meaning.

His eyes say it all.

“You’ve always been braver than you think. Don’t stop now,” he adds. “We’ll see each other again.”

You don’t have time to react as he turns away, taking long strides toward his horse and away from you.

He is going to the front lines. Your brother is going to war.

Your head starts spiraling again. It’s been an avalanche of farewells, and suddenly, against better judgment, you don’t think you can hold yourself together.

With tears welling up in your eyes, you watch him mount his horse and ride away, followed by his fleet. The sound of hooves echo through the courtyard as a maiden holds you by the arm keeping you from hitting the ground.

Seokjin is headed into the danger of war while you are left to face a different kind of battle.

Each and every attempt of yours to glean information about the King of Ilya, as you hadn’t met him yet, was met with tight-lipped silence. No maiden dared spill anything, not even a description of said man.

Their refusal to answer your questions only heightened your apprehension.

You tried to search your mind after your father’s comments about the other kingdoms and their rulers but came out short-handed. The only thing you managed to remember him saying about Ilya was that its last king had died in an unfortunate altercation and his son took over.

Although sure his son, the new King, was about your age, your heart was already entitled to another.

You did not want this marriage, the alliance, and the burden it came with. Not only because you didn’t even know the King, but mainly because he didn’t know you.

If he did, he would spare the trouble, or at the very least understand you are not the type of woman to sit and be ordered around, and therefore no marriage would happen in the first place.

For the entirety of the day, you were shown around the accommodations. You were fed and bathed, and as soon as the latter activity was over, you were locked inside your pompous excuse of a room in nothing but a nightgown and Yoongi’s silver dagger that you managed to hide like a swindler.

The balcony served you with no comfort. As soon as you stepped foot on it you realized it was too high of a fall for you to even attempt climbing off it. And even if you were desperate enough, which you are, there was no wall close enough, no crevice, to hold on to on your way down.

Or a bed sheet, and even a curtain wide enough to help. You had checked.

The wedding was to be held at night, that much you were told.

And was only when the sky started to get painted a darker blue that the maidens walked into your room once more.

You stood before a large mirror, on top of a small platform, as the girls dressed you in layers of delicate fabrics. You were in shades of yellow and hues of gold from head to toe. Even the jewels were composed of yellow sapphires.

You liked what you saw in the reflection. This color made you feel at home, but as you caught your eyes you saw that they were nothing if not urgent and alert. You didn’t have time to admire the somewhat modern cut of the dress and how it hugged you in every right way, no. This was the only time you had to think about finding a way to escape. To at least postpone the wedding to get to know the castle better, its exits, its people.

One of the maidens tugs at one strand of your hair, trying to secure the last hairpiece. Your eyes fleet to her figure.

The girl didn’t appear much younger than you. Perhaps she was Taehyung’s age, exactly seven months your junior, who knows. She had been quiet just like the others, but her eyes always lingered a bit on yours before aiming for the floor. She didn’t ignore you intently like everyone else.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she works, and suddenly you notice the sapphire hairpiece slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.

“Forgive me, Princess,” she says, bending down to retrieve the piece. As she does so you notice that she sends an authoritative glance toward the others, and as they exchange glances, they discreetly exit the room.

The inked-haired girl rises to her feet, the sapphire piece in hand, and yours travel instinctively toward your thigh where the dagger is sheathed safely. She accompanies the movement with determined eyes.

“Your Highness, there won’t be a need for that,” she starts and a friendly smile eases her complexions. “I apologize for the startle, but I needed a moment alone with you.”

You eye her with suspicion still, “Go on…”

She takes a deep breath. “We’re not friends or better acquaintances- You don’t even know my name. Yet I can’t help but sympathize with what I see in your eyes.”

You cock your head at that comment. You never bothered with people’s assumptions regarding you, but it didn’t mean you liked it nevertheless. “And that would be…?”

The girl seems unfazed by the gesture, and if she fears the disparity in status, she doesn’t show. Instead, she continues. “I know what it means to love someone and be forced apart. Or at the very least, know the feeling of being imposed with a life you don’t want to yourself. Am I close?”

At the lack of a response on your end, she takes one step closer to you. “I want to help you, your Highness. I can assist you in escaping.”

You swear your heart skips a beat and for a moment you think you are hearing wrong. “Why would you risk such a thing?”

What if this is just a ploy of yet another cunning King?, you think to yourself. Why would a maiden risk her neck to save mine? She doesn’t even know me.

“Because I have someone I love, too,” she confesses, and something in the way she says it gives you a feeling that she for a fact is speaking the truth. “I can’t stand by and watch someone else be denied their happiness. If there’s a chance to reunite you with the one you love, or what you want, I will do everything in my power to help you.”

You always thought of yourself as having a high judgment of character. Never once have you failed to do so, but things lately have turned into a mess.

“I don’t have the means to pay you and if you get caught-”

“We don’t have much time,” the girl interrupts your poor excuses, her voice urgent. “Tonight after the final preparations, I will come for you. Be ready.”

You nod at the warning, dismissing second thoughts as a flicker of hope ignits within you.

The maiden carefully secures the sapphire hairpiece in place, and you stand tall once more facing the mirror.

The girl comes to stand by your side and as your eyes lock in the reflection of the both of you she says in a whisper, “You can call me Hana, your Highness.”

You don’t think you had ever been so nervous in your entire life. Not even when you lied through your teeth that time Taehyung vanished for two days and you covered for him with your ruthless father.

It isn’t an easy feature to put your life in the hands of someone else, especially not blindly.

Hana had left you with the other maidens, claiming she would come for you, but nothing else was said. You didn’t exactly know what would be the plan, you just knew she would come for you.

But as you are escorted to the chapel to bind your life to the King of Ilya in front of his order and his guests, you start doubting if Hana is ever going to show.

You are one step away from the staircase that will lead you to the entrance where the spectacle awaits when said girl carves a path between the guards and maidens to reach you.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, your Highness,” she huffs and two guards come to drag her away.

In sudden fear, you shout at them, “Leave her!” and they do as you command.

Hana straightens her simplistic dress before coming closer to stand in front of your figure. “Will these do, your Highness?” she opens her hands in front of you, head down in a theatrical display for the others, as she shows you the most scintillant sapphire earrings. They are composed of two pieces, one polished yellow stone at the top and another one hanging, only secure by a bird’s claw that tightly embraces it.

It’s beautiful.

Your hand is like a ghost as it touches your ears, unaware they had been bare until now. “Yes, these will do.”

Hana presses down a smile at your astonishment for the piece, and if you were in Keirn, where you had power, you’d be pushing her in a playful jest.

But you are not in Keirn, and you recognize this is the moment she will somehow execute the plan. It has to be.

Your eyes are laser-focused on her as she comes even closer, trying to secure one earring on your ear. You can barely understand as she whispers, “Open your mouth slightly- Not like that. Gentler.”

You do as you’re told, and in a flash, when she swifts her hands to your left ear, something is inside your mouth.

Immediately you close it and your tongue goes out to inspect what appears to be a capsule.

“Once you’re to say your vows, crack the capsule and fall. I need you to appear faint,” she whispers again, stalling the insertion of the earring on your ear as the soldiers start to get agitated.

You search her eyes for more but she only says, “Trust me. Don’t open your eyes until I’m with you and I tell you so. Just play dead.”

And then she steps away, saying loudly, “All done, your Highness!” and you’re back moving toward your doom.

You feel the capsule hidden under your tongue as you start walking down the aisle of the cathedral.

Rows of guests turned to gaze upon you, their eyes filled with curiosity and judgment. The whispers and murmurs seemed to close in around you, but you kept your head high, determined to see through with the plan.

Just play dead, you think, easy enough.

Your dress, the exquisite creation of silk, seemed to shimmer in the soft candlelight, each step causing the delicate fabric that only cinched in your bust and waist to ripple like waves. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of incense.

Your attention however floated elsewhere as you finally dared to look ahead, your eyes catching the ones of the man you are being sold to.

Standing at the altar, the King of Ilya awaits you dressed in all white, a vision of purity and grace. As you see his honey gold hair cascading around his equally gold crown, you understand the choice of color for your dress.

His features are delicate, almost ethereal, with a softness that belies the power he holds.

Coming closer, almost reaching him, you notice how his plump lips curve into a beautiful smile, one that takes you by surprise. Somehow you’d imagined it to be faker, or filled with ill intentions, but none of that is present.

You see yourself fleetingly wishing that you could have met him under different circumstances. If you were a friendly visitor to Ilya, or perhaps meeting him as a future ally, one that had ascended to the throne of Keirn instead. You would’ve wanted to know him better.

You wondered what kind of person he was beneath the crown, what dreams and fears he harbored.

But those thoughts are quickly overshadowed by the reality of your current situation. As you reach the altar, the King kindly extends a hand to you, his smile never faltering. You accept it, feeling the warmth of his touch, and look deeply into his eyes.

You don’t know if it’s nervousness about what you’re about to do, but you can’t read him.

“My bride,” he says gently, kissing your knuckles without ever breaking eye contact. If you had more time to ponder, you’d risk saying he was finding amusing the way you were analyzing him.

He guides you to stand face-to-face with him, and from between you, you hear the priest proclaim, “Without further ado, we are here today to be testimony of the sacred matrimony between Y/n, previous princess of Keirn, and our beloved King Jimin, ruler of Ilya.”

The whole room filled in with, “All hail King Jimin,” as if it were a prayer.

You take that as your cue to bite the capsule.

The bitter taste of whatever content was inside it makes you pull a face, and as you open your mouth a bit distraught by the liquid now swirling in your tongue, you see droplets of red falling.

King Jimin frowns, scanning your complexion. “My dear, are you feeling under the weather?”

You don’t waste any time before rolling your eyes back and falling heavily onto the ground.

It’s a hard task not to wince at the blow your head suffers once it meets the cold stone beneath you, but it had to look credible. You do your best to look lifeless as you hear Jimin shouting for assistance, kneeling beside you while holding your hand tightly.

Or when the crowd goes into a frenzy when Jimin does the same path you just minutes ago walked, as he bravely carries your limp body to a private room escorted by his royal cavalry.

You keep playing dead even after he gently places you on top of what appears to be a wooden table. “Get me a healer. Now!” he commands frantic.

There’s the clink of steel and then a new pair of footing making noise on the cold stones.

“Your Highness,” it’s Hana’s voice, you believe.

Jimin who was still holding your hand, seemingly guarding you like a lion, places your limb on top of your own belly, softly caressing your temple before walking away.

“Where’s the healer?!” he inquires, closer to losing his temper, if he already hadn’t done so.

“He’s on his way, your Highness,” you now know for certain to be Hana as she says meekly. This must be yet another facade of hers as you can gather by now she is nothing but meek. “I came as the priest ordered me to. Your Highnesses are not yet married to the eyes of the lord, you can’t be alone in a room.”

She waits patiently as you hear Jimin sigh and grunt, pacing in what you can imagine a furious state, contrasting greatly with the image you built of him earlier on the altar.

“I’ll be right outside,” He warns. “Don’t you even dare breathe near her. We don’t know as of yet what this could be, I don’t want…Nothing happening to her. Do you hear me?”

“Of course, your Highness. I’ll stand over here.”

You wait until you hear his footsteps growing further down the hall. And then the wooden door slamming.

You wait as Hana’s feet come closer.

And only when she whispers, “And… Wake!” on your ear do you rise like a ghost.

As you do so, still a bit overwhelmed to have pulled such a display, you’re met with Hana’s smile.

She guides you out of the table and gestures for you to keep quiet, indicating for you to follow her.

You do it readily, watching as she opens a secret doorway hidden behind a tapestry, leading into a dark tunnel.

Both inside it, Hana closes the door behind you, cutting your eyesight completely. In instinct your hands shoot before you, feeling under your fingers the musky stone walls.

“Listen to me closely,” Hana murmurs, and by the proximity of it, she’s standing right to your left. You try to look her way. “Down this tunnel, at the very end of it, you will find a horse strapped in a tree. I packed it with food and some things for your journey,” her speech is rushed, you can sense neither of you has much time.

“This is as far as I can take you,” she says finally.

“Thank you, Hana, truly,” You try to put every sense of gratitude in the small words you can offer. “If we ever cross paths again, I hope we can call each other friends. If not, I’ll carry you with me with the utmost gratitude. I need you to know it.”

You can hear her smiling in the dark, “Go before there’s nothing else to thank me for, Princess, but alas- If it’s not asking much, could you smash my head in the stone in a friendly way? It’s no hard feature, you just have to-”

You chuckle, “I’m well acquainted with that, don’t worry. Just show me where your head is.”

Hana swiftly takes your hand and guides it toward her skull. She then proceeds to get closer to the wall and you tag along to execute the move.

“To make you black out or…?”

“Christ, woman!” she hushes, “No. Just to give me some kind of excuse when the King barges in and finds me alone when I should be looking over the future Queen of Ilya.”

“Oh!” you exhale, wincing at what you’re about to do. It won’t be that hard but it will hurt anyways. “I do this with the utmost gratitude.” You feel the need to add.

“Just do it—!”

You smash her head before she can say anything else, and as you leave her trying to suppress a wave of screams and curses, you do your best to navigate in the dark to the end of the tunnel.

For her.

For Yoongi.

For you.

You found the horse Hana had left you with ease. The white stallion was hard to miss.

Your mind raced as quickly as your heart as you guided the animal toward the dense forest. The night had been pitch black, the canopy of the trees above you blocking out any light from the stars. Navigating your way out of Ilya’s kingdom and toward the borders of Arden was proving to be an arduous task, made all the more difficult by your bold attire.

Your yellow wedding dress, though beautiful, was a cumbersome hindrance in a survival mode meant not for a party. Its skirts tangled in the underbrush and caught on every low branch. It looked like a beacon.

Keeping the mount atop the white beast had been also a struggle, the dress snagging and pulling at you with every movement. But you kept holding on.

You missed Solas. He was not only swift but pitch black as the night itself. Riding him had always been like a thrill, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across open fields and dense woods. This poor animal beneath you, that you didn’t even have a name for, by contrast, was a gentle and slower beast. Its white coat was visible even in the peering darkness, its pace frustratingly sedate.

You clung to the reins through the entirety of the night. The adrenaline that had fueled your escape was waning, replaced by exhaustion, a throbbing head, and a lack of sleep.

You hadn’t slept properly in days, and the weight of the past travels pressed heavily on your body. The steady, rhythmic plod of the horse’s hooves was almost lulling, and you found yourself fighting to keep your eyes open as you steered the beast Southwest.

You just have to keep going southwest, all the way. Then Arden will be there, your mind swirled with drowsiness.

Something sharp and unyielding wraps around your waist, yanking you violently from the saddle. You have barely time to gasp before you’re thrown to the ground, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

The horse, startled, rears up and bolts, disappearing into the morning light.

You lie on the forest floor, stunned and disoriented. Your vision is a blur of soft shades of orange and blue, indicating you have indeed snoozed somewhere along the night.

You begin to panic as the throbbing pain oozes off and a stranger points an arrow at your head.

“I wonder what kind of insanity consumed Ilya that now they are letting their Queens go on crusades into the woods alone,” his voice is rough, with a deep undertone that makes your nails claw at the earth beneath you. “Get up. Slowly.”

You take the opportunity to do so, with the dress you are wearing, it’s better if you are on your feet than in full display to your enemy.

Rising to your feet, you take that your foolish and careless act of rendering yourself to sleep awarded you with your captivity. Jimin must have ordered his men to search for you as soon as he saw the empty room, and as you slept through the night, you lost terrain on them.

Idiot. Idiot. idiot!, Guilt gnaws at you.

“You better kill me now,” you say through gritted teeth. “I won’t go back!”

“Kill you?” the strange soldier dares to look amused and a chill climbs down your spine. Oh Gods, he’s going to have his fun with me first, you panic. “Oh no, my Queen. I have better plans,”

“No!” you grunt, fumbling with the silk of your dress to get a hold of your dagger.

“I wasn’t asking.” he exudes confidence in his statement and you feel your blood boil.

He lowers his bow, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he starts taking slow and assured steps toward you.

This is a play for him. He’s having fun.

His eyes are a deep sea of black and he pins you with it, his stare so intense it’s like you’re drowning in tar.

But then they turn round and alert, snapping to look in the direction of a rust of leaves.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, but you can’t take your eyes off him.

In a quick and sudden move, he grabs you by the waist, taking you by surprise at the ease he does it as he rolls the both of you to take refuge at a large trunk of a tree.

Your body is caged between the tree and his own, which feels like warm steel as he presses it further on you. When he covers your mouth with his hand, pinning you with his eyes once more, you notice his cloak.

A brown ragged thing that now serves as a disguise for both of you when he pulls the hood to shield his face. He can’t be a soldier, is the first conclusion you make.

Not one from Ilya.

His nose is so close to yours that it tingles.

And from this close, you can see a deep scar on his tanned cheekbone. You gulp.

“Do not make a sound, Honey,” he whispers, his nose brushing your own.

taglist. @starvvie @kookisoorecs @httpextaevaganza @codeinebelle @ttanniett @hoseoksluv89

*comment down bellow if you want to be part of it ♡

[starvvie]

Resuming. 🖤

CLOUD9 AGENCY ☁ JJK X OC

Ⓒ bluenpjm — all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

synopsis.  faced with decisions that can change the course of her career, the art director of the cloud9 agency decides it is time to act and reignite the flame she had once lost. and all because of an intern… genre.  non-idol au ; slice of life au ; intern!jungkook ◦ fluff ◦ angst ◦ smut pairing.  JJK x OC rating.  M wordcount. 4.8K warnings.  foul words, sad vibes and life not making sense, drinking, arguing, lying, just a lot of different feelings!  a/n.  after months without being able to form a sentence, I couldn't be more pleased to be able to continue this series. to everyone waiting, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this rollercoaster! chapters. 4 — 5 — 6

Just as he had promised, Jungkook texted Carolina the day after. He continued doing so the day after that, and the one that came next. Slowly but swiftly, he attained Carolina’s friendship back. 

Some days, their exchanges would be as simple as the man sending something funny he saw online. Others, especially when the messages deepen into the night, they would text for hours. They had comfortably conquered a perfect streak ever since that day in Carolina’s apartment. 

Today, however, Carolina hadn’t had the opportunity to reply to Jungkook’s message. In fact, her head was in a twist over the message he had sent her the night before. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s hang out. She was up for it, no doubt. But she already had plans that were impossible to cancel. And if she said so, he would ask. Jungkook was as curious as he was shameless. So, she struggled between simply pretending she didn’t see the message and unequivocally not telling the truth. 

Could it really be considered misleading if she was omitting information? In Carolina’s textbook, yes, omitting information was, indeed, a synonym for a bad thing. 

Inside Carolina’s apartment, the energy is a mix of anticipation and enthusiasm as she and her friends busy themselves preparing for Jae’s surprise birthday party. Their situation over the last month had turned… complicated, to say the least. It somewhat resembled the chaos that had taken over her home. 

Balloons in various colors cover every available surface, some swaying gently in the air while others lazily drift on the floor. 

Deo had done the favor of gracelessly opening up yet another bag of balloons, despite the ones unattended at the table, with such force that resulted in them spilling all over, creating a small hazard that Hyori rushed to solve. Lu and Sarah were neatly hanging streamers crisscrossed along the walls, filling the room with bursts of color. They had also raided Carolina’s stash of fairy lights, draping them around the room like twinkling stars, the perfect feed photos already forming in their minds. 

A makeshift photo booth had been set up in one corner, complete with an assortment of quirky props and a backdrop adorned with glittering stars and shimmering curtains. “This is going to be a great makeout spot,” Deo muses as she admires the final result, the old curtains brushing on the floor providing full privacy inside.

“My room is off limits,” Carolina says loud and clear for the room of single ladies. 

“Noted,” Sarah pretends to take a pad and pen from her jeans back pocket and scribble on it. “Hookups on the balcony and bathroom only.” 

“And photo booth,” Lu adds with a smirk. 

“Kitchen counter could also be a good spot.” Hyori's giggle sounds far more innocent than her statement and if the girls in the room hadn’t been acquainted with her already, they would be shocked as the words didn’t match the delicate and innocent features of the girl.

The owner of the apartment can’t help but laugh at the witty comebacks of her friends. Drifting away from the photo booth, her gaze wanders deeper into the living room. There’s still a soft smile adorning her features as she surveys the space around her. She’s pleased with what they had done so far, but something was still missing. Determined, she approaches the coffee table, hands reaching out to grasp its edges, only to be met by another pair. 

“Let me help you,” Lu’s smile reaches her eyes as they carry out the one-person job. 

Removing the coffee table opens up the space for people to move around the sofa and as they rest it near the corner, their hands fall to their hips, admiring their not-so-hard work. Carolina purposely ignored Lu's curious stare on her, focusing instead on the task at hand. However, Lu's intuition couldn't be ignored for long. 

“What's up?” Lu asks, her voice soft, contrasting against the backdrop of laughter and chatter. Their eyes met briefly and the girl senses there’s something on Carolina’s mind. “You seem a little lost—more than usual, at least.” 

Carolina hesitates for a moment, her smile faltering slightly before she replies, "All good. Just thinking about how to make sure everyone has a good time tonight." Her attempt at reassurance fell a little short.

“You guys okay?” Lu's question hangs in the air.

“Oh, yeah! Peachy,” Carolina tries to brush off the concern, knowing that the photographer would see right through her. The room was too crowded and if a single word from this conversation was caught by any of the other girls present, Carolina would be in trouble. Although everyone meant well, she did not feel like chatting about this right now—or ever, for a matter of fact. 

“I won’t press…” Lu sighs, helpless, sensing Carolina’s discomfort. “But you know I’m here.” 

The last sentence is barely heard as Deo’s voice calls out from the kitchen. Seizing the opportunity, Carolina steps away. 

“Thank God,” Carolina whispers as she reaches the youngest in the room. “What do you need?” 

Ignoring the initial comment, Deo goes straight to the point, “We’re out of ice. You should text one of the boys so they can bring it.” 

“Why don’t you do it?” Carolina raises her eyebrows, suddenly amused. “You have Hobi’s number.” 

“I am currently in the process of getting over him and the feelings I made up in my mind. If you want all your drinks to be warm, don’t ask for ice.” The passive-aggressive phrase is accompanied by an all-aggressive smile. “Also, can I borrow your phone to put on some music? Mine’s about to die.” 

Carolina nods and Deo takes the phone. The owner of the device notices as she texts Hobi first before searching for the music app. She rolls her eyes fondly at the stubbornness of her friend. “You should at least give him a chance.” 

“Mind your own business,” Deo sings as her eyes scan through the playlists. “He’ll be nothing but trouble.” 

As Deo’s about to return the phone, a new notification pops up, immediately catching their attention. jjk.97 sent you a video slides on her screen, a silent reminder of the text that was pending an answer from her end. Despite the turmoil, Carolina suppresses the urge to scream.

Deo remains silent as she waits for action. Just a few nights ago, they had discussed this whole Jungkook and Jae situation. On one side, the latter was dependable and gentle, a signal of safety that Carolina had started to enjoy. He was a sort of human Golden Retriever that always seemed to make her days better. On the other side, though, loomed Jungkook. Despite the pain that Carolina had somewhat managed to forget, Jungkook still had the power to evoke butterflies with his simple, albeit silly, texts. 

Without exchanging a single word, Carolina silently navigates through her phone settings, silencing all notifications from Jungkook for the next 12 hours. Her heart feels a little lighter. 

“Let’s see if that’ll be enough to take him off your mind,” Deo sticks out her tongue before disappearing into the living room. 

“Brat,” Carolina shakes her head before moving into the living room and continuing the preparations for the party. 

Not too far from Carolina’s kitchen, Jungkook was at his friends’ apartment. The room’s loud, filled with laughter and chatter from the two tenants, but if he had to be honest with the pair, he hadn’t heard a single word for the past half hour. Sitting on the edge of the couch, phone in hand, Jungkook had been scrolling through TikTok. He would always do this, but he had spent today’s watch time in stealth mode, carefully selecting the best ones to send to Carolina. Their chats would leave the message apps just to be continued on the video platform and he loved it. Teasing Carolina with videos had easily become one of his favorite hobbies and it was his way of keeping the conversation alive, of staying connected to her. 

Today, however, there was no response. For the millionth time, he unlocks his phone and glances at his messages. No reply and no bubble signaling typing. She had left him on read and it was gnawing at him. He missed her. He wanted to see her. And he was too close to throw a tantrum. 

Of course, every possible scenario had crossed his mind. At first, he assumed she was busy. She fell asleep during their conversation last night and today had a packed schedule. It had happened before. But then he got to thinking about whether something was wrong. And after he had gone through all the probabilities, he started to freak out. Was she avoiding him? 

Jungkook’s fingers hovered over his phone screen, contemplating sending another message, when he was jolted back to reality by a sudden snap. Jimin’s fingers were right in his face. 

“Hey, what do you think, JK?” Jimin asked, his eyes searching his for a response. 

“Huh?” He sinks onto the couch and finds Taehyung looking at him as well. “I wasn’t listening.” 

“The plan for tonight,” Jimin clarifies, raising an eyebrow. He hated when he had to repeat himself. “You’ve been zoning out for a while now.” 

“Yeah, sorry man.” Jungkook runs a hand through his hair. “I was just… thinking.” 

“About the art director?” Taehyung is quick on his feet. He might’ve forgotten the girl’s name, but he sure was curious to know more about her. She got Jungook talking about his feelings out in the open and that was a first in the long years they’ve been friends. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles sheepishly just thinking about her and immediately regrets letting his guard down as his friends’ eyes widen and they suddenly become interested in whatever kind of confession could come out of his mouth. “I just… haven’t heard from her all day.” 

“Oh, I remember her!” Jimin remarks but he lies. Regardless, he’s excited. “So, what’s the deal with you two? You like her, she likes you..?” 

Jungkook hesitates, glancing at his phone again as if waiting for some sort of rescue from it. “Well, we’ve been texting a lot. And I think we got a good thing going. But it’s still unclear.” 

Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest after ditching his phone that wouldn’t stop ringing on the coffee table. “So, what are you waiting for? A signed letter of forgiveness? Maybe she’s just busy today and didn’t have the time.” He gets up, rilled up after seeing Jungkook so sadly slouching his shoulder. “Why not just drop by?” 

“What?” Jimin and Jungkook ask at the same time, confused. 

As Taehyung strides from one side of the room to the other, his hand falls into his pocket, an idea forming in his head. “Yeah, grab her some flowers or some food and drop by.”

“What about our plans?” Jimin whines and Taehyung is quick to dismiss him. 

“I don’t know man. I don’t want to come off as too pushy or desperate.” Plus, Jungkook knows that Carolina most likely wouldn’t dig the flowers. 

“Dude, you miss her right? Sometimes, you gotta go for it.” 

Jimin nods in agreement. “Sometimes all they’re waiting for is a gesture. So, show up and tell her how you feel. It’s been more than time.” 

Jungkook looks between his two friends, their excitement infectious. And if he stopped to think about it, it hadn’t been the first time that showing up unannounced to Carolina’s apartment had paid off. “You really think so? What if she’s got plans?” 

Taehyung’s phone buzzes on the table again. “Jesus Christ man, who’s trying to catch you?” Jimin comments annoyed at the noise before turning his attention to Jungkook again. “You just gotta roll with it. At least she’ll see you’re serious about wanting to spend time with her.” 

Jungkook exhales, “Alright. Maybe, I will.” 

“Atta boy!” Taehyung claps him on the shoulder, smirking. “Just be yourself. She already likes you, man.” 

“Yeah—yeah, you’re right!” Chest filled with his inflated ego, Jungkook smiles confidently. “I’ll drop by her place later.” 

Jimin cheers, throwing his hands up. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s finish this game, and then you can go win your girl.”

As the game resumes, Taehyung adds, “And remember, if all else fails, just be extra charming. It works for me... sometimes.”

Jimin grins, “And bring food. Everybody loves food.”

The banter continues and Jungkook, amongst the sound of laughter, the buzz of the city outside, and the support of his friends, starts to believe that maybe—just maybe—tonight could be the night he finally tells Carolina how he feels. 

Electricity can be felt in the air as everyone rushes to hide. The sound of hushed whispers and stifled giggles fills Carolina’s apartment, blending with the soft rustle of fabric as friends duck behind couches and crouch next to the available furniture. 

Carolina’s heart raced widely from the moment she got Jae’s call. She’d lied effortlessly, telling him that, as per usual, she was running late and invited him to wait inside. It was a white lie, but still, it had left her nervous. In reality, she had been nervous about this party and her feelings for Jae for some time now. Everything was a whirlwind of emotions that made her head spin and made her feel lost. The silence in the apartment was almost oppressive, the only sound Carolina was able to make out was her own shallow breathing and the pulse pounding in her ears. 

Jae knocks on the door, and Carolina feels like her heart is going to leap out of her chest. She quickly opens it, the darkness inside the apartment swallowing him up as he steps in. For a brief moment, it’s like the world freezes. Then, in a synchronized shout, everyone screams, “Surprise!” 

The lights are immediately flicked on, revealing the grinning faces of friends and the vibrant decorations hung around the room. Jae’s eyes widened in genuine surprise, his face lighting up with a joy that made Carolina’s heart swell. Everyone in the room can tell that he is touched by the gesture, and his smile is infectious. 

Without hesitation, the birthday boy crosses the room and pulls Carolina into a tight embrace. As his lips met hers, the world seemed to tilt slightly. The kiss was everything one would expect from a rom-com—passionate and heartfelt—, yet something’s missing for Carolina. The room erupts into cheers and Hyori swoons the hardest right by Namjoon’s side. 

Carolina can hear the whoops and hollers, the clapping and laughter, but it all feels distant, like background noise. With her mind racing, she notices how Jae’s kiss is warm and soft, his hands gentle as they cupped her face. She is aware of the dozens of eyes on them and it makes her feel exposed and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Breaking the kiss slightly before Jae does, Carolina’s cheeks are flushed not just from the kiss but from the intense scrutiny of the audience. “Let’s drink!” The hostess tries to act nonchalantly and Jae looks at her with a mix of happiness and adoration, oblivious to her inner conflict. He’s beaming, clearly thrilled by the surprise and the kiss, while Carolina forces a smile, hoping to match his enthusiasm.

The party quickly shifts into full swing. Laughter and chatter fill the apartment as drinks are poured and people mingle. The living room is a blur of color, the decorations the girls had worked so hard on during the afternoon glittering under the lights. The sound of clinking plastic glasses and upbeat music create a backdrop to the best surprise party of the year. 

Carolina found herself slowly relaxing as she moved through the party while making sure everyone was having a good time. Deo, Hyori, Sarah, and Lu soon gather around the karaoke machine, pulling her with them. 

The opening notes of Wannabe by Spice Girls fill up the room. 

Deo took the lead, carrying out the iconic lines shamelessly after only a couple of drinks in her system. Hyori and Sarah danced along, their voices harmonizing perfectly. Lu added her own flair to the performance, twirling and striking poses that had everyone laughing. Carolina joined in but mostly with her phone, as this was a moment she did not want to forget and needed to record it.

Meanwhile, the other guests enjoy drinks and chatting in small groups. The photo booth, as predicted, was a hit. A couple stumbles out of it, laughing and clutching a strip of photos, their faces red from the flash and the drinks. The party’s alive with energy. 

As the song comes to an end, the room erupts into applause. And, of course, Carolina and her friends took exaggerated bows, their faces flushed with laughter and exhilaration. Carolina is quick to pass the microphone to the next singers as her body slumps onto the couch with Lu and Sarah by her side, their laughter still ringing in their ears. They lean back, slightly breathless. 

“That was amazing! I felt like I was 15 again,” Lu giggles, eyes sparkling with excitement. 

Sarah nods, still catching her breath. “I still can’t believe I remember the lyrics. We should form our own Spice Girls tribute band.” 

Carolina laughs, outfits already forming in her mind to fit every one of the girls. “We’d be a hit at every party.” 

Lu grins, nudging Carolina with her elbows. “Speaking of hits, this party is fantastic. Look at everyone having such a great time. You did an incredible job organizing it.” 

Carolina smiles and looks around the party. She easily spots Jae across the room, chatting warmly with Namjoon and Hyori who had run back into the latter boy’s arms. Meanwhile, Deo and Hobi had lost themselves on the balcony, taking cute pictures together, their giggles so loud they occasionally drifted back inside. “Thanks, Lu.” 

“You really nailed it, Cece,” Sarah adds, leaning back with a satisfied sigh as she too adored her hard work. “This is exactly what Jae needed.” 

Carolina nodded, taking in her words. “I’m glad everyone’s having a good time. I’m going to grab a drink from the kitchen.” 

As Carolina returns to her friends, cup in hand, she notices something amiss. The front door to her apartment is swung open, a crude light ruining the party’s ambient. Jae is standing there, looking into the apartment with a curious expression. Standing in the doorway, looking equally confused, was Jungkook, his face twisted into an awkward smile. 

“Oh shit,” Carolina’s heart skips a beat, a sick feeling washing over her as she rushes to them. The two boys who had taken over her heart were facing each other without even knowing who the other was. She felt a lump form in her throat as she approached them. 

“What’s up, guys?” She does her best to sound casual despite the rising panic. 

Jae turns to her, a puzzled look on her face. “I was just about to come find you. Heard someone knock, and then found him at the door.” 

Jungkook’s smile falters slightly as he looks between Carolina and Jae. “I tried calling but couldn’t reach you. I didn’t know you were having a party,” He tilts his head slightly and Carolina can tell that he’s trying his best to understand everything happening inside her apartment. “Just dropped by to see how you were doing.” 

“Come on in, man! It’s my birthday and this lovely lady over here decided to surprise me.” Jae side-hugs Carolina, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. 

“Good thing I brought this, then!” Jungkook hands a bottle to Jae without even looking at him. His eyes are laser-focused, trying to burn into Carolina. She never mentioned this guy before and a million questions were starting to form in his mind. “Happy birthday—”

“Jae.”

“Jungkook.” 

They shake hands, the tension palpable as their eyes meet briefly. 

“So, how do you know each other?” Jae asks as Jungkook enters and closes the door behind him. 

At that moment, Deo appears, her eyes widened by the sudden sight. Before Carolina can even begin to form a word, Deo swings her arm around Jungkook’s and says in the most friendly tone possible, “Through me! JK and I are long-time friends. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone!”

Deo quickly leads Jungkook into the party, her arm still looped through his. Carolina only has time to trade some glances with Deo, silently thanking her for the quick save, before Jae steals her attention yet again. 

“Great guy!” Jae is chipper, oblivious to who Jungkook is and what he means to Carolina.

At that moment, it was like time stopped and the lump in Carolina’s throat had gotten so big that it was keeping her from breathing. Things were already bad—she didn’t like the fact that she had been masking it for the past weeks, and now amplified by Deo’s well-intentioned but ultimately disastrous lie, it was gnawing at her insides. She felt like she was about to explode. Her mind was rushing with thoughts and emotions, each one more overwhelming than the last. 

Ultimately, Carolina’s biggest wish was to march up to Jae and tell him the truth—about Jungkook, about the lie Deo had just plastered in their faces, about them, and her feelings. She wanted to clarify that, although they’d been having fun and he was a great guy, it wasn’t fun anymore. Yet, to have her peace of mind, she would have to ruin the party—the party that she had painstakingly planned. She had planned every detail to ensure Jae had the perfect birthday, and now it was all teetering on the brink of disaster. 

Putting on a brave face, she plasters a smile and nods along as she finally loses Deo and Jungkook in the crowd. But inside, she was unraveling. Pretending that someone had called her, she quickly excused herself, “I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice strained but steady. “Go have fun.”

Carolina refuges herself in the kitchen. Out of all the places at the party, it was the quietest, and finally, she’s able to let out the breath she had been holding. It’s shaky and she tries to dig her nails into the napkins. The facade drops and she feels the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Bringing her cup to her lips, she downs the liquid in one gulp, the bitter taste numbing her from the chaos in her mind. She immediately pours herself another drink. “Get a grip!”

As the evening wore on, the party showed no signs of slowing down. The apartment was alive with a symphony that consisted of laughed and animated music. The vibrant atmosphere was almost enough to mask the tension Carolina felt. 

Eventually, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived: the birthday cake. The lights were dimmed, and the room filled with the flickering glow of candlelight. A hush fell over the guests as the cake was brought out, candles blazing atop it. Jae stood at the center of the room, his eyes twinkling with delight as he took in the scene.

As the familiar strains of the birthday song filled the air, Jae reached out for Carolina, pulling her close to his side. He wanted her there, wrapped in his arms, as everyone serenaded him. Carolina felt a pang of discomfort and forced a smile, trying to match the joyous energy of the moment, as she could feel Jungkook’s gaze on her, heavy and intense, like daggers piercing through her.

As the song drew to a close, Jae took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and made a wish. His face lit up with a beaming smile as he blew out the candles, the room erupting into applause and cheers. Carolina clapped along, forcing a smile, but her mind was elsewhere.

Jae turned to her, his eyes sparkling with gratitude and affection. He gave her a quick squeeze, his joy evident in every gesture. “Thank you for this,” he whispered in her ear, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. Carolina nodded, her smile faltering slightly as she glanced around the room.

The guests began to dig into their slices of cake and Carolina took advantage of the fact that everyone’s focus was on the sweet to slip away from Jae’s side. 

Carolina steps out onto the balcony. The city stretched out before her, its lights twinkling like a starry sky. Leaning against the railing, her slice of cake droops in its plastic plate, forgotten in her hand. Chocolate cake—Jae’s favourite. She sighs as she closes her eyes, the cool night air a welcoming friend from the heat and noise inside.

“Quite the party you got going here.” Jungkook’s voice startles Carolina. Her hand flies to her chest as the sliding door of the balcony is slammed behind him. “My invitation must’ve gotten lost.” 

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” Carolina’s voice is stern, her patience running thin. It was the same tone she used when they worked together. Jungkook hadn’t seen it often, but each time it happened, he knew he ought to tread lightly. 

“I came to check in on you.” His eyes are sincere as he takes a step towards her. “I honestly got worried that something was wrong.” 

Carolina huffs at his response, her irritation bubbling over. Of course he did. She turns to face the city again, her back to him. 

Jungkook doesn’t appreciate the lack of response so he continues, now standing right by her side, close enough that their arms brush. “Had I known you were throwing your boyfriend a party, I wouldn’t have come, obviously.” 

“Excuse me?” The sarcasm in Jungkook’s voice makes Carolina see red. If she could, she would have punched him in the face right then and there. “First of all, he’s not my boyfriend. And even if he was, I don’t remember you being the boss of me, so I don’t have to inform you of anything.” 

The answer doesn’t exactly please Jungkook and he presses his lips before gaining the courage to speak again. “You’re right.” 

Carolina sighs deeply, fingers finding her temples and massaging them for a while. “You should leave—” 

“Do you like me?” Their eyes meet briefly only for Carolina to roll them. Impatient, Jungkook continues, “Or him? Do you like him?”

“It’s complicated.” She replies. “And—again—none of your business.” 

Apprehensive, Jungkook decides to face the city. “Do you remember the first time we kissed? In my car, when I took you home?” Carolina hums in response and takes the opportunity to admire his side profile. She notices how he plays with his lip piercing and how much darker than the night sky his eyes are. “I had been wanting to do that for months. I had the biggest crush on you ever since the moment I laid my eyes on you.” 

“I—” Carolina tries to speak, but Jungkook cuts her off. 

“Then I fucked up and you already know the whole story. My point is that in all that time, I never stopped thinking about you. And now, that we’re friends—can I say we’re friends?” 

“Sure,” Carolina bites her lip, slightly flustered at the man’s monologue. Jungkook gives her a small smile. 

They are engulfed by silence for a second. “I actually came in here to do more than check up on you.” His head hangs low and he laughs, suddenly feeling shy. “I want to be more than your friend. I want to kiss you again like we did in my car. And after the club. I can’t take you out of my mind. And I don’t want to hide this from you anymore.” 

“I appreciate you finally disclosing what you want or what you feel. I really do.” They are back at facing each other. “You have been a pain in the ass to deal with and I hated the fickle thing you made this to be—I made this to be. Because it’s not. and yet I can’t give you more than this at the moment.” Realizing the course of her words, Jungkook can’t help the frown that falls on his features. “It’s not fair for Jae. Or for me for that matter. He’s not my boyfriend but he came close to being something for me, so I need the time to think about this mess. You can’t just barge one day in my life when you’re finally ready and just—you get the gist.” 

For a moment, Jungkook is at a loss for words. “I understand that. Yeah—I get it.” He speaks almost in a whisper. “We’ll speak soon then, Cee.” 

“Jungkook,” Carolina calls out. He looks heartbroken and it’s painful to see. 

“Great party, man.” Jungkook doesn’t look back and his words to Jae who was standing on the other side of the door aren’t accompanied by a smile. 

“Thanks!” Jae steps foot outside, confused. “What happened?” 

Carolina sighs. Damn surprise parties. 

[ chapter 6 ]

☁ want to be tagged in the next part? comment below or send me an ask!

[starvvie]

New read 🖤 Ongoing.

the princess bride | jungkook ( 1 )

synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.

pairing. jungkook | you + yoongi | you genre. royal au, angst, smut, fluff word count. 1.2k

rating. M warnings. ❗️so far yn is only angsty about changing her fate❗️

a/n. chapters will be coming out whenever I'm able to post and they may vary in word count greatly ♡

chapters. 1 × 2 × 3

You had been waiting for this little escapade since you’d heard your father announce your marriage to the King of Ilya earlier that day.

The world came tumbling beneath your feet as soon as you heard it. No matter how much you protested your father, the King, was irresolvable. You were not shielded behind your title like your brothers… Unlike the youngest heir of Keirn who wanted nothing to do with the crown besides partying and living it up to his rake title, you would give a finger to rise to the throne. And yet, the oldest of you, your brother Seokjin, who would eventually sit atop of it wanted nothing to do with it as well.

You did not doubt that if you had been announced as a boy as soon as you’d been born your father would have done whatever it took to put you on the throne. He had always favored you. And not because you were a girl, but because Seokjin did not possess the natural leadership you demanded whenever you entered a room, and because Taehyung did not possess the cold heart needed to rule a kingdom.

And yet your father did not think twice before offering you as a form of alliance with the powerful kingdom of Ilya.

He did not think of his daughter but of the kingdom. He put the nation of Keirn first, as you still wage a war with Arden’s great warriors and struggle to advance on territory.

The worst part is as a born ruler you can understand why he made the trade. With Ilya’s help, the unfortunate middle position on the map of your kingdom becomes nothing but a past worry. The soldiers can concentrate on upholding only one side of the borders.

But as a daughter, as a woman of your own, you can’t fathom why your once-loving father would deny you the only thing you ever dreamed of having—your freedom.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the stone walls of the tiny cottage belonging to your secret lover. You met him years before this, thanks to his father’s high-rank position in your dad’s order.

Like his deceased father, Yoongi is also a commander; a general. His scars tell tales of many battles, yet his eyes, the soft ones he has only for you, tell you of everything he wishes your lives could be instead of this. That’s why in your rampant need to escape your newfound obligations, you found yourself atop your trusted horse, riding toward this. Toward him.

The air inside is thick with the sweet scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the fire. Your breath comes in soft, heated gasps as you press yourself against Yoongi. Your fingers tangling in the dark hair you worship, his hands roaming your back, pulling you closer, as your lips meet in a fervent unyielding kiss.

Breaking the kiss you rest your forehead against his, your eyes brimming with determination. “We could leave tonight,” you whisper, filled with hope, much different from the condition you arrived at the cottage. You had been a storm of betrayal and raging tears before Yoongi dwindled everything with his caress and soft-spoken words. “We could escape the castle, make a life for us in the woods… Just the two of us. No one would find us past the clearing.”

Yoongi’s eyes search for yours, his expression a mix you know of too well. Longing and apprehension. You could bet your own eyes were telling the same secrets. “Y/n, your father would never stop looking for you.” His knuckles caress gently your cheeks. “He would send all of the fleet to every damn corner of the kingdom, you know that.”

“They wouldn’t find us. You’re the best at what you do and I—”

“My love,” he pins you down with his eyes. There’s nothing but sadness in them. “You’re now to be-” He stiffens, if only ever slightly. “You’re to be Ilya’s queen. They won’t ever let you go.”

He won’t fight for this, for you. Why won’t he fight for you?

“But we’d be free,” you insist, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Free to be together, to do whatever we want of our lives.”

Yoongi’s eyes close in a thoughtful wish. Maybe his resolve could wave after all. He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time as if trying to pour all of his emotions into this very moment. “I want that more than anything,” he murmurs against your lips. He sighs and eyes you closely before adding, “We’ll have to be smart about it if we’re even to attempt it.”

You smile against his lips.

You didn’t think your heart could possibly be more his, and yet…

A sudden noise from outside breaks your wishful dreams. Your intimate bubble bursts as the unmistakable sound of boots crunching on gravel reaches your ears, followed by the clang of armor.

Yoongi is up in a second, his grip on you tightening as he steps to shield you even if the enemy is still outside the cottage.

“No,” you whisper, your voice trembling. The only person to have ever known about you and your knight in shining armor was Taehyung. If your father’s soldiers were here… “They- They found us.”

Your spirit is crushed.

Not letting you dwell on what could have happened, Yoongi turns to face you, his expression hardened. This wasn’t your Yoongi, this was the general demanding your attention. “You have to go,” he says urgently, his eyes locking into yours with fierce intensity. “I’ll find you. I promise I’ll find you no matter what, but you have to escape. Now, Y/n.”

Tears well up in your eyes. You can’t leave him, you don’t want to. But you learned the same techniques as Yoongi did when little. You know that if you don’t split now they will catch you both. And you also know that it’s your freedom put in jeopardy, not his.

There’s no time to argue.

Yet you do.

“I can’t leave without you-”

His large hands are cupping your cheeks in a second. All of the resolve in the world swirling in his cat-like eyes. “No one will ever set us apart, My love. You’re blood of my blood,”

You are caught by surprise as he chants the words. But there’s no time to spare, and so you finish reciting the vows you know by heart. “…And bone of my bone.” You answer him gently. “I’ll give you my body, that we two might be one.”

“I give you my spirit until our life shall be done.” He finishes with a bittersweet smile.

As you rest your forehead on his cheek, inhaling for one last time everything that he is, he places a cold piece on your palm and a kiss on your temple.

“Please be safe,” you whisper close to his lips, your voice breaking.

Yoongi gives you one last, searing kiss before pushing you towards the back door. “I’ll find you,” he repeats reassuringly.

You can still taste him on your lips as you slip out of the cottage, your heart pounding in your ears as you sprint into the dense forest. Behind you, the sound of soldiers crashing through the door and Yoongi’s defiant shouts fill the air.

You don’t dare look back, trusting in his promise as you disappear into the darkness, praying that once the sun rises yet again, you will be not only reunited but in charge of your fates.

In your palm rests the reassurance.

A silver dagger in the form of a wedding ring.

taglist. comment down bellow if you want to be part of it ♡

*chapter two coming soon!

[starvvie]

— JUNGKOOK ★.ᐟ

[starvvie]

Continuing 🖤

CLOUD9 AGENCY ☁ JJK X OC

Ⓒ bluenpjm — all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own.

synopsis.  faced with decisions that can change the course of her career, the art director of the cloud9 agency decides it is time to act and reignite the flame she had once lost. and all because of an intern… genre.  non-idol au ; slice of life au ; intern!jungkook ◦ fluff ◦ angst ◦ smut  pairing.  JJK x OC rating.  M wordcount. 4.8K warnings.  foul words, violent thoughts, sad vibes and life not making sense, drinking, arguing, just a lot of different feelings!  a/n.  a really really late birthday gift to my #1 supporter of this story. happy late birthday lulu, you're the best! 🥺💛🌻 chapters. 3 — 4 — 5

It hadn’t been the first time someone had disappointed Carolina. It had been, however, the first time she had allowed someone to get too close too quickly. And that was a mistake she wouldn’t be committing again anytime soon. After all, you learn from your mistakes. At least you should.

She storms towards the elevator, her anger seething within her. 

Carolina doesn’t care to collect any of her belongings that stay laid in her office—and for the sake of everyone in that entire building, it would be best that her little purple troll with neon green hair would be in the box with her stuff the next day. Horace—the troll—had been her companion throughout the most challenging moments of trite; that, and her camera. Cassandra never bothered to replace the agency’s old one that, for the entire time Carolina had been with Cloud9, had been broken and merely acting as yet another item in her glass office to be left to collect dust. 

Already inside the elevator, she faces the crowd for the seconds it takes the doors to close—some people had already started whispering, others dispersed once faced with Cassandra, while the one intern that she cared about didn’t move; her eyes are on him and she doesn’t look away until the doors close. As she begins its descent, she’s met with her reflection in the steel doors. She wants to scream and punch someone. Wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t mind punching both Jungkook and Cassandra straight in the face. “Stupid Jungkook,” she mutters under her breath, hands falling to her hips. “Fuck you and your meaningless empty words.”

Her chest keeps rising and falling as she crouches on the floor, practicing her breathing exercises to calm her racing nerves, as the box keeps on dinging, signaling that she is closer and closer to the ground level. 

Stepping out of the tall building that had been her workplace for the last couple of years, Carolina stood on the bustling sidewalk, the busy street teeming with people despite the hour. She hated early meetings. In fact, she hated all sorts of meetings. There was no need to have an entire team stop their days so that they could waste 45 minutes of their busy schedules to speak about something that could easily be an email. 

Her work day was managed according to her own will. The team that worked closely with the creative director was used to her being offline in the morning and extremely active during night hours. Her brain became electric after midnight and they had all been able to coordinate a pretty balanced work schedule so they could communicate effectively. 

With its modern design, the towering building loomed above her. Car horns, the hurried footsteps, and the chatter of pedestrians created a symphony of urban chaos that served as background noise for the audio message she was recording for her best friends, trying her best to veil her frustration and disappointment as she recounted the situation. She knew she didn’t have to lie; in fact, it only worried her that her friends would jump Cassandra in the street or key her car. It wasn’t like her to openly discuss her feelings. Instead, she made some jokes.

“But yeah—” She pauses briefly, phone momentarily touching her lips. “I’ll be seeing you guys at 8 pm. As usual. Peace out!” 

She hits the green button, sending her audio through, before immediately typing a quick message so they don’t rush to listen to her recording. 15 entire minutes of her ranting about her day so early in the morning would definitely alarm them. 

Her ride finally arrives and she lets out a sigh of relief as she climbs into the backseat. The added feature of no conversation was a blessing as her mind throbbed with frustration. Leaning back against the comfortable leather seats, Carolina closes her eyes and lets the soothing melodies of the music playing on the radio wash over her. As the car began its journey, the towering buildings of the city gradually faded into the background, replaced by the familiar sights of her own neighborhood. The streets became lined with quaint houses and small local businesses. 

From time to time, she would open her eyes, checking that the normal-looking guy who was driving her home didn’t have a little bit of Joe Goldberg in him and took a detour to his secret layer where he would try to murder her. She had been devouring true crime podcasts and it had quickly taken over her mind—whichever situation she found herself in could be the perfect crime scene. Sometimes she even found herself looking for ways to leave clues behind so that the investigative team could find her body. 

But as her paranoid mind came to ease, she couldn’t help but appreciate the contrast between the hectic city and the peacefulness of her neighborhood. The cool breeze gently brushed against her face as she peered out of the window, and her home was just around the corner. She longed for a cold shower, a chance to wash away the stress and frustrations that had been weighing on her shoulders. 

Successfully arriving home without being kidnapped, Carolina takes the stairs up to the third floor. The elevator in her building had been making weird noises and after getting stuck there twice, she decided not to put her luck to the test any longer. The angels were probably worrying about someone else because she was having one hell of a day.

She feels exhausted and defeated. As she closes the door behind her, one of her shoes is already flying as she swiftly takes it off. The other follows suit. Tossing her keys on top of her bag that had also been thrown to the floor, she moved with automatic precision toward the bathroom. 

The soothing sound of running water fills the room as Carolina turns the faucet, letting it pour into the bathtub. The cold shower is replaced by a warm bath that would hopefully serve as a place to unwind and let go of the stress that had accumulated throughout her morning. The day had barely started and she was feeling drained. 

Stepping into the warm water, she lets out a sigh of relief as it caresses her skin, the tension in her muscles slowly melting away. But the feeling of betrayal kept lingering in her mind, as she could still vividly picture Jungkook’s doe eyes stuck to the floor, the question of why he hadn’t backed her up as he promised haunting her. Closing her eyes, Carolina submerges herself in the water, wanting nothing more than the world surrounding her to fade away. 

By the time Carolina left her bathroom, she was surprised to find her living room dimly lit, washed in tones of orange as the sun had already begun to set. She fetched her phone and wasn't surprised by the thousands of messages her friends had sent her, both on their group but also in the private chat. She was expecting them to explode by the news—that, and that they were going to kill her because of the lack of communication. 

Her wrinkly fingers wouldn't allow her to leave a fingerprint behind, making it impossible to unlock her phone. Her attention fell on the time displayed on the screen instead and she knew she had to hurry if she didn't want to be yet again late to their dinner date. 

Carolina’s encounter with her friends that evening was based on venting frustrations and only after she had some drinks and shared some laughs, they discussed her situation with Cassandra and Jungkook. As she had expected, the two girls immediately began a plan to make the lives of the two people who were tormenting her friend’s mind a living hell. 

As the evening drew to a close, Carolina managed to put her friends in their respective cars, calling one for herself while feeling grateful for them. She knew that with the two she would never be alone in her struggles and that they would always be there for her. But as she arrived home, she couldn’t help but check her phone for any missed messages. Despite still being upset with Jungkook, deep down she craved to have something from him—some sort of explanation for his reaction earlier. Scrolling through her social media, the feelings only grew inside her and she decided it was time to call it a day. Setting her phone down, the silence in her room is deafening and it feels like it’s spinning. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget this day ever happened. 

As days turned into weeks, Carolina’s rage faded down. 

After quitting her job, her days settled into a monotonous rhythm. Her once bustling schedule was now a simple sequence of actions that played out in the confined space of her house. The path she treaded between her bed, the fridge, and the bathroom would soon start to feel worn, like a well-trodden trail that could be found in the woods. 

During the initial days of her newfound routine, Carolina found a peculiar comfort in the limited space, as if the world beyond was too vast and too overwhelming to face. Deep down, she had been craving this alone time; this silence—a relief. The constant ringing of her phone, which had once been a constant reminder of work-related stress, was now replaced by a soothing quietness. For the first time in a while, she was able to breathe in the stillness of her surroundings. 

However, a sense of emptiness began to creep into her life. Despite the wanted freedom, an undeniable void had emerged. Her phone became a reminder and creator of chaos in her mind. Whenever it chimed, her heart would skip a beat, anticipation rising in her chest. Her thoughts darted between who could be the culprit behind the sensation of the mini heart attack she suffered with each buzz. Most times, it would be her friends. But those weren’t the calls or messages that she craved; her mind darted to the possibility of it being him. 

Jungkook crossed her mind endless times per day. The man who, somehow, had vanished from her life. His absence, although appreciated at first, started to gnaw at her, the frustration and anger that had been her initial response giving way to more complex emotions. She started feeling helpless. The more shows she binged, the more she started to realize that her life, in that moment, was stripped of sense. 

Carolina’s thoughts seemed to gravitate towards Jungkook with every passing day. She would catch herself wondering where he was, what he was doing, and whether he was thinking about her as much as she thought of him. And every time, she would end up feeling ridiculous by occupying her mind with someone whom she believed she didn’t mean half as much to. 

“So,” At the sound of her friend’s voice, Carolina’s gaze left the blurry images that were displayed on her screen to face the girl sitting on the other end of the couch. 

“Oh no…” She sighed, fighting the urge to massage her temples. “what is it this time?” 

“How’s that portfolio coming along?” Deo eyed Carolina through her eyebrows as she sipped on the noodles that were fuming from the cup in her hand. 

“It’s coming.” The short answer was an easy indicator of the lack of interest regarding the topic. “Ya’ know.” 

The friend hummed and Carolina pursed her lips together. Her friends had been bugging her for the past week so that she would get some work done. Deep down, she knew that this was their attempt at making her leave the somewhat depressing state she had allowed her body to grow into. She wasn’t like this—the type to back down; cross her arms while the world revolved and she remained still. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with. And so, it was odd to see her so defeated.

That night, however, after saying goodbye to her friend, she didn’t go to bed. She didn’t slouch on her couch either, as usual, Netflix playing on the screen of the TV with the most recent drama until she either finished it, the sun rose or she fell asleep. Instead, she managed to take all the clothes that laid on her desk’s chair and moved them to her bed, allowing her to sit in front of her laptop for the first time in weeks. 

The first couple of times she hit the power button, it wouldn’t turn on, completely drained of power. So, Carolina lost a couple more minutes looking for the charger. 

It took some minutes for the machine to reboot and for the screen to make her dark eyes glow. Opening the first drawer of her desk, she fetched an old dotted notebook and started to outline a strategy. In her mind, it wasn’t that clear yet, but Carolina had started to define, step by step, how she was going to get control of her life again and make it incredible.

The visual identity of her very own agency wasn’t done that night. The sun rose and she continued glued to her screen. And after a couple of days, she contacted previous clients, explained her new situation, and offered her services. She planned to start her very own agency, offering her creative mind to those in need. A modern-day superhero, if one could say.

The first couple of months were hard—harder than Carolina had anticipated. Regardless, she was in a good place. After a long day, her mind didn’t wander back to Jungkook; she didn’t think of him at all. He had become a wound that healed—a thought that she managed to wipe completely from her mind. 

Someone once said that the most beautiful parts of life were in the small things. Carolina’s small thing lately was the group of people who acted as her employees—some freelancers that she hired to help out on her projects. The group worked weirdly in sync together and they had been a constant in her life in the last weeks. 

Lu, a photographer with a keen eye for art and amazing drawing skills, had become a close friend. The other girl in the group was Sarah, a writer who would often pitch in Carolina’s social media strategies. The three girls were walking to the bar after hitting the dance floor of a club for the past thirty minutes. 

“Are you official, yet?” Sarah nudged Carolina on her side, head tilting to a table where 5 guys were sitting. The latter’s eyes followed and landed on the one who was trying to vent some air through his black shirt. Jae. Carolina laughed. “Exclusive, then?” 

“We’re playing a dangerous game already,” Carolina turned her back to the table, viewing the ludicrous wall of liquor. “Giving it a label will only make it more complicated.” 

“Those big round eyes—he looks just like a lost puppy,” Lu’s speech is slurred. 

“Getting strays off the streets is more your scene. How’s Lucious?” Carolina joked wittedly, remembering that just last week the girl had sent her a photo of a stray cat that she rescued from the streets. It would be kitty number four now and she was certain that the it’s just temporary—until I find someone to take him talk was a big fat lie.

As the conversation develops between the other two girls, Carolina’s eyes fall on the subject of their previous conversation. If anyone had asked her about him, she would most likely say he's nobody—better yet, a work colleague; someone that she hired now and then to help her out on her gigs. But when her friends asked, it had become quite evident that their little rendezvous after work, which usually resulted in her doing a walk of shame back to her apartment the next morning and ignoring his texts for the next couple of days until work brought them together had become more and more common and Carolina was trying her best so that people wouldn’t notice how he messed with her head and heart. Their eyes meet and Jae gives Carolina a giant smile, which she shyly reciprocates before turning around to face the bar yet again. 

People-watching was one of Carolina’s favorite hobbies. Her creative mind would go wild, creating stories according to the faces of the people in her sight, sometimes even roaming into the dialogues they were having. Lucky for her, the area is packed. 

A woman, not much older than her—or at least she guessed—playfully twirled her hair between her fingers, a radiant smile on her lips as she talked to a guy next to her. He had the puffiest lips Carolina had seen that night and it was evident by his body language that he hadn’t kissed or been kissed enough that night. 

Another man sat not so far away and, in contrast to the people next to him, he was gloomy. Head was swinging up and down as his focus was on catching the attention of the barman to ask him for another drink. That one certainly would have a hard time finding a taxi home. And that is of course if he wouldn’t end up sleeping on one of the benches outside of the club. 

The barman that the gloom wanted to attract was busy taking the orders of a young man over the loud noise of the music. The man was leaning his whole body on the counter in a kind of boyish manner, trying his best to speak clearly despite his eyes already appearing somewhat foggy. As he finally finishes, the barman gives him an assertive nod and the man smiles. And suddenly it clicks… that smile. It sends Carolina down a spiral and she has to control the pulsating need that rushes through her body. 

“Hey, you’re feeling ok?” Lu rapidly asks but gets no response. “Are you going to throw up?”

Carolina focuses on the man’s movements and sees how he licks his lips as his back hits the counter, attention dispersing to something—or someone—in the crowd. His silhouette was unmistakable amidst the sea of gyrating bodies now that she had found him. Her eyes dart from his profile to the back of his head and it’s like she has laser vision and it’s starting to burn a hole in his head as his hand comes to caress the area. It’s at that moment that their eyes meet for brief seconds.

“I’ll be right back,” Carolina speaks through gritted teeth, not noticing the man taking a double look at her. 

“Where are you going?” Sarah’s concern is palpable in her voice as she watches Carolina dart through the crowd. 

The pulsating bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, creating a rhythmic throb that seemed to synchronize with Carolina’s racing heartbeat. The air had suddenly become dense with laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glasses. 

Carolina’s eyes finally meet the man’s surprised ones again. Determination fueled her steps as she pushed through the tightly packed room, navigating the ocean of people that ebbed and flowed around the bar. Each step felt heavy, like a battle against a roaring sea, the tide pushing her back in the shape of warm bodies that added to the suffocating atmosphere. The scent of perfume, sweat, and spilled drinks mingled in the air; it felt nauseating, the surge of emotions of seeing him after so long threatening to spill over. 

Her breaths came in shallow gasps as emotions threatened to consume her, and yet, the determination to confront the man she had managed to extinguish from her mind propelled her forward. Carolina stands before him, hands resting on her hips as her eyes lock into his. The world seemed to quiet for a moment, the surrounding chaos fading into the background as she prepared to unleash the torrent of emotions that had simmered within her. 

“Carolina, I—” And as her name rolls out of the man’s tongue, she almost crumbles, getting hit by sudden nostalgia. His shaky eyes scan her entirely and she restrains her body from moving. Jungkook is only steps away from her and where she thought hurt would lay, a sense of antipathy is born. 

"Cat got your tongue?" 

Yet again, they were face to face. Had she been completely honest, Carolina was terrified. Her life was decent—good, even. She was healthy, and happy, and enjoyed what she was doing. She was proud of her projects. She would even wake up some mornings and go for a jog. But encountering Jungkook at the club and being with him in the intoxicating setting such as his car, with all those memories and all those emotions, made her swing back and forth between maintaining her cool and ignoring the feelings that hadn’t been dealt with and, instead, shoved deep down into her core. 

“I am sorry.” He paced slightly from the end of the couch he was sitting on to the window. For a few seconds, he stared outside. And then he noticed she hadn’t even blinked. “I am.” 

A long sigh escaped Carolina’s puffy lips. She wondered if he was trying to make her believe his words or if he was trying to realize if he meant them. “So you’ve said.” 

“I mean it.” Jungkook sat back down on the couch. He stared intensely deep into her eyes, trying to reach the warmth of her soul, sincerity pouring through his, while she gazed at him back, void of emotion. “I really do.” 

“Can’t exactly say your word means much.” She reclined back into the armchair. While Jungkook was sitting on her couch, she had decided to take aid in the singleness of her armchair, far enough that he couldn’t reach her. “You say a lot of stuff, but it doesn’t seem to have much meaning.” 

Carolina knew that her harsh words and unfiltered sincerity were one of the things that bothered Jungkook. It was probably one of the things that always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells around her. He was the complete opposite. Politically correct, even. His expressions could fail him—although rarely—but he would always say the nice thing, or not say anything at all. Carolina would be truthful if regarding something she was passionate about, even if it meant saying something the other person wouldn’t enjoy.

“I know what I did to you—the way I acted,” Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, almost as if trying to collect his words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, Carolina would throw him out of the window. She had already pictured that scenario only minutes after he had entered her apartment. “it was wrong, and you deserved better.” 

“And yet…” She gesticulates with her hands, emphasizing their position. “here we are.” 

He just wasn’t saying the right thing. And if Carolina could be honest, she wasn’t sure there was a right thing to say. Maybe there was nothing that he could say to make up for the heartache she felt. For the humiliation. And seeing him hide his face between his hands as his head hung heavy between his legs, just made her want him gone. And almost as if reading her mind, Jungkook asked “What do you want me to say? I am really really sorry and I haven’t stopped thinking about it and you ever since.” 

And that last sentence was like a punch to the gut. “Ya’ know what? I forgive you!” Almost as if Carolina had been suddenly hit with a wave of good spirits, she gets up from her armchair, her tone chipper. “You are forgiven for being an absolute asshole and a liar. I am completely over the fact that you betrayed my confidence.” Her hands fell to her hips and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, please, leave. We don’t have anything else to discuss.” 

Grabbing him by the arm, Carolina almost hauls Jungkook from his seat. “Wait,” his manifests are in vain though, because only when he enforces his stance she stops. “I think I loved you,” Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the floor. “and that freaked me out.” 

“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Arms in the air, Carolina turns to face her wall. She takes a deep breath. “You loved me so you played me and then never spoke to me again. Can’t imagine what kind of father you’d be!” 

He ignores her comeback, “I wanted to be with you every second of my day. I wanted to stay until late in the cloud room with you just noticing how the colors made you look more and more beautiful. You were messing with my mind and I was allowing myself to fall for you, even though it wasn’t appropriate.”

Carolina’s hand doesn’t move from the front door’s handle and she has to strain the laugh that threatens to leave her lips. Jungkook’s stance is incredulous as he doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he professes what seems to be his undying love for the girl. 

“You’re different and you’re weird and you have a funky taste and it scares the living shit out of me. You made me feel. When you smiled at me. When you trusted me with assignments…” Completely ignoring the girl’s wishes for his departure, Jungkook sits back on the couch again, this time on the armrest, his body facing her. “And then I get to the office, late as fuck, already freaking out, and see that scene. I was shocked. And when I finally came to my senses, I felt too embarrassed to reach out to you.” He speaks fast and his lisp is noticeable. Carolina sees how truthful his words are, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth as he faces the empty wall. “I was ashamed that I let you go like that, let you go through that situation with everyone looking at you and I didn’t stand my ground immediately like I should have.” 

Jungkook stands up and Carolina’s grip on the handle falls. “So, you have every right to hate me. You can even punch me if you’d like if that would make you less hurt…” he walks closer to her, stopping only a couple of inches away, somewhat afraid that she would take on the offer. He gives her a small smile. “although I would prefer you wouldn’t. You look like you have a mean hook.” 

She finally lets out a dry laugh, focusing everywhere but on the man in front of her. She’s trying to remain defensive, fighting the urge from her body to give in to his speech, to believe that he’s saying the truth, that maybe—maybe—this time, things can take a different turn. “So… past tense, huh?” 

He ignores her sarcasm completely, as if switching roles and him being the serious one. Jungkook wants to take her hand that hangs mindlessly in the air but restrains himself from doing so. He fights the urge to run his hands through her fluffy hair like he had done so the previous night in his car. His brain can still recall how soft it felt on his fingers and how it smelled of lavender. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know it’s my fault and I just want you to know that I feel like garbage for hurting someone who meant—means—so much to me.” 

Carolina purses her lips together, focusing on the dirt that stained the white of his Converse. 

“Can we start over? Friends?�� Her eyes land on his extended hand and travel all the way up to his face. He’s hopeful and she can’t wait to touch his skin again, so she shakes it. He smiles radiantly as if a little kid who just won the biggest fluffiest teddy bear at a fair. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Jungkook wants to sound certain but Carolina senses the shakiness in his voice. 

“Just don’t spam me.” Carolina rolls her eyes while they finally let go of each other’s hands. Jungkook gives her one last look, providing her with a silent chance to change her mind and as she doesn’t, he nods, pleased, before leaving. 

Carolina’s hands fly to her head, fingers massaging her temples as she is dazed by the event she has just lived. She closes her door, back hitting it for support and her focus relies on outside her window, how the sun had already set and the night had taken over instead, the sky painted dark navy blue while some stars shone in the distance. 

There’s a knock on her door and she rushes back to open it, reason completely out of her mind, “Jun—” She stops mid-word. “Jae! I was not expecting you.” 

“In my defense, I did text you. Not my fault you don’t look at the thing.” As he makes his way inside, chuckling, he gives her a small peck on the cheek. “Brought food.” 

“Great!” Before closing the door, Carolina glanced at the empty corridor, trying to shake the weird feeling that left her stomach turning. It doesn’t go away, not even after she ate the ramen Jae brought. And so she takes this sudden unwell state to send him off. The drawers inside her mind were all messy; she had some organizing to do.

[ chapter 5 ]

☁ want to be tagged in the next part? comment below or send me an ask!

[starvvie]

Feral for this type of JK 🖤

are you afraid to fall in love? » i'm afraid of being the only one who falls.

[ they are sent undercover as newlyweds to catch a terrorist, the only problem is that she hates him and he loves to annoy her ❤️‍🩹 read it here ]

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@magicshopew @narimiese @socksjinie @callmeharin @yundota @investigativelewis @httpextaevaganza @dulcetdevil3 @itshanic @teresaisla @allfortete @niniklip @ggukkieland @iamunrecognized @diminieshoe @bluenpjm @taespocket @sofiameetsevil @rcseluv @tangyguk @agustlee @bibliotae @joonipie @itsceesaw @september-husband @dropsofjoonpiter @telejoonie @hobilyss @starvvie

[starvvie]

🤍.

[starvvie]

cute when you're mad | jeon jungkook.

pair: jealousbf!jungkook × f!reader

warnings: drabble short n simple, smut, mentions of sex and fingering in public, dirty talk, reader gets slapped, voyeur (?)

☆ note: my second drabble! again, english is not my first language in case of writing mistakes. pics edited by me. :)

jungkook is pissed.

after a very long time, he finally asks his sweet girl to a date. he chose his best clothes, the perfume you always say that smells good while sniffing his neck aggressively, bought you flowers..

he did everything!

and now there's a random man flirting with you while singing some romantic shit in the middle of the restaurant, on top of a small stage.

jeon didn't like the way he was staring at you, smiling, eating his girl only with eyes. liking even less of how you were giving all of your attention to that bastard.

things get worse when that guy picked up the microphone, saying loud and clear:

"this song i'll sing right now, i'd like to dedicate to that beautiful girl right there!" and pointed at you.

then the instrumental of 'careless whisper' started.

hah.

jungkook let the tongue touch the inside skin of his cheek, arms crossed right in front of chest while watching you getting all flustered, smiling shyly.

how adorable.

he's definitely doing something about that.

"babe?" you called confused about the feeling of your chair being pulled, and suddenly you're sitting by him.

"stay quiet."

jungkook's hands, decorated with rings, went up under your delicate dress, squeezing your thigh right before touching that place, making small shapes there.

"people will see!"

"so let them see."

when he knew your pussy was wet enough, two of the longest fingers was already inside, getting out and in quickly.

"koo.." you let a moan scape, covering your mouth with one hand after that.

looking at jeon with certain difficulty, he watched with a smirk that guy singing, his eyes open wide. probably noticed what was happening between you two.

and now, all makes sense.

your boyfriend was jealous.

that makes you want to tease him, but let him show you are his for everyone at the same time.

"you look so cute when you're mad, know that?"

"yeah, let's see if i'll still cute when i fuck you in that bathroom until you scream, perrita."

and jungkook really did that.

he fucked you silly in there, his fat dick eating you from behind, forcing your head back only for you to see your own face, that was a completely mess, full of sweat and tears. your butt? all red from his strong slaps.

jeon growled in your ear things like:

"you're all mine."

"that pretty hole of yours is mine to eat. only mine."

"see that messy face? mine."

"am i cute now, love?"

and he was happy now with the thought of everyone, especially that motherfucker, hearing your moans, hearing you scream his name; nobody else's.

maybe this plot is too cliche..?

[starvvie]

This is turning out so good 🖤

"throw it at that guy's head for me, would you?"

» click to complete action «

( inp and art creation by: @singguks ! ) ✦ series' masterlist

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[starvvie]

— JISOO ★.ᐟ

[starvvie]

Reading 🖤

Marée basse

Happy New Year guys and thank you so much for liking and reblogging my work. ♡ Creating this blog was the best decision I made this year.

→ Part of Rated R series (masterlist not yet available).

Pairing: Model!Taehyung x Stylist/Fem!Reader

Genre: New York in the 90s AU, strangers to lovers, smut

Summary: Taehyung tells himself every time he sees you how much he doesn't like you. He hates how you're so caring, kind and pretty much the opposite of his ex who he's still obsessed over. One day, he dares to taste you and that's when he realizes his hatred for you is transforming into love.

Word count: 9.5k

Warnings: tae is kinda mean at first, French tae again, dom tae/sub reader, unprotected sex, oral (f), face sitting, masturbation (m), breeding kink because why not.

A.N.: It's long but maybe not enough? The story goes fast, but it's only to make it easy for me because I don't want to make a series out of Taehyung's storyline and I don't have the strength to write 15k+ words lol.

Playing: Elle ne t'aime pas

"You do know that it'll kill you someday, right?" Taehyung spits the smoke out of his mouth, the cigarette inked between his index and middle finger.

He reads today's news with his delicious cup of coffee that sits on the table in front of him. He takes sips from time to time when he feels the tiny bit of energy he has leaving his body. He hopes his sunglasses hide his dark circles properly as people pass by them on the sidewalk, adjusting the pair on his nose when it slides a little bit down.

If only his agency didn't obligate him to pose for 6 hours straight, perhaps he wouldn't have to wear sunglasses outside during cloudy weather. He wouldn't have to party until the time indicates 4 a.m. or smoke a pack of cigs a day to release his stress.

Taehyung sighs, his head raises to look at his friend, himself reading the newspaper. "If love doesn't do it before." His words spill with melancholy and sore souvenirs are quick at coming back into his mind.

He sees her again, screaming insults at him, her face twisted by anger. Or at least that's what he thought she was feeling like. She's at his entry, telling him how much she despises him, but the second after she's hanging on his lips. His mind goes blank, fortunately, before he can imagine further things. Oh, combien je te méprise.

"Mh, what a poet." The other man hums, crossing his legs. He leans his elbow on the coffee table while he winks at a group of two women, giggling as they continue their path. "Why do you still think about her when there are plenty of beauties everywhere?" He plays with his pencil between his two fingers, his gaze following the girls behind. When they are out of sight, he turns around to write letters down on the newspaper's crossword.

"New York girls don't pick my interest." Taehyung responds simply, carrying his cigarette to his pink lips. He looks down at the article on page three, the title big and bright, begging to be read.

"They will when you'll no longer miss Paris." He rolls his eyes at his friend's statement.

His childhood city is not the problem, neither are the girls. No, if he misses something, it is the delicate touch of a woman he loves. Not his ex, even though he thinks about her more than he would like to, but someone who'd make his heart beat again.

Beats like the time where he played soccer with his primary school's team. Sometimes, he can still feel the wind flowing through his brown locks. Running with the ball at his feet, approaching the goal. He liked soccer, he liked winning games. He liked making his dad proud.

He doesn't know what he would think of him now, if being a rich model in New York is something up to his standards. It probably is, considering the fact that Taehyung left the poverty he was born in. The only thing his parents had ever wished for him is to do better than them and he did. If it isn't for his handsome features, he doesn't know who he would have become.

"I'm not like you, Jimin." The said man laughs wholeheartedly, Taehyung could really be delusional sometimes. He can agree that he is much more salacious than his dear friend, but let's not forget who accompanies him at parties hosted by rich young people.

"And who's me?" Jimin questions him, cocking one eyebrow. He smiles playfully, he already knows how Taehyung is going to describe him.

"A city boy." He says, his eyes not looking up from the journal. "A womanizer." He adds, an arrogant smirk on his lips.

The man in front of him chuckles. "Come on, aren't you one as well?"

Once a time, he would have agreed. Back in France, when he was nothing else than a cute face, he didn't care about his reputation he had with women. 'Le coureur de jupons', he was called.

The skin of a girl against his own was what he was living for, why he woke up in the morning with the intention of going clubbing at night. Their personality was no importance, a good fuck history of feeling something. A glimpse of intimacy he never had because nobody really bothered to befriend the poor boy.

At least he could brag about hooking up with every woman he desired. A chance that none of his friends had.

It's only after he was engaged in his first modelling agency that he stopped. It was also the time where he met his ex-girlfriend.

"I'm not." He takes a gulp from his coffee, licking the excess from his lips with his tongue. He finally looks up at Jimin when he puts back his cup on the table. "But guess who is. Apart from you." He lifts his journal from the wooden surface, pointing at the title of page three.

"The local rockstar caught in the arms of a fan." He reads the title out loud, scoffing when he realizes what it implies. "Don't tell me it's-"

"Jeon Jungkook. Yup." The man confirms, letting the newspaper fall on the table. He grins at the thought of his friend being scowled for sleeping with a groupie once again.

"He's not like me. I'm a heartthrob and he's just an horny teenager." Jimin defends himself, shifting his hand in the air.

"He's twenty-five." Taehyung rectifies, raising his eyebrows at him.

"Same thing." The two men sneer, mocking the famous boy who's always in some type of scandal. Jungkook is not the one to follow the rules of society and surely not the one who'd say no to sex, no matter if it's one of his fans or not.

Jimin gets a look at his watch, his eyebrows raising up when he realizes that he's late. "Fuck. Gotta go, but see you around, yeah?" He slips his wallet in the inner pocket of his leather jacket and leaves a ten dollar bill on the table. He secures the paper by putting his empty cup of coffee on it so it won't fly away. "Call me or something."

Taehyung nods as his friend waves him goodbye. He disappears in the crowd of New Yorkers, avoiding the bodies that are walking in his way. The man sighs, lifting his glasses up to his head to rub his eyes as he yawns deeply.

He got a new contract, one with Guess. His manager concluded that it was a good deal and Taehyung doesn't really mind for who he's posing for. Honestly, he has very little to say, but with his popularity, pretty much every brand wants his model skills.

The photoshoot is at one p.m. so he needs to come back home before he runs late.

She never loved him and it's like Taehyung had no clue of it. It was always love and hate between them, but he thought it was normal. He also thought that she was dressing for him when in reality his name didn't even cross her mind.

Sooner or later, he did. He understood that her kisses weren't for him. Her lipstick wasn't chosen for him. Her eyes didn't reflect his person. Her laughs weren't meant for him.

He had to let her go, and he eventually did, but for a long time he thought she was the last person he had in his life. She haunted his dreams because he thought she was the only possible key to his heart. She wasn't.

His heart isn't a locked door nor a broken vessel. It's pumping fast in his chest, screaming to him that his ex isn't the solution but rather the problem. He wishes she's still thinking about him in her apartment, falling asleep with his face engraved in her mind. She's not and he knows it, but his lonely soul would do anything for his wish to become true.

"Shit! I'm so sorry! Oh, God..." His eyes fall on the feminine figure kneeling in front of him, wiping a liquid off the floor. "I'm so clumsy, I can't believe it." Taehyung blinks several times, wondering what just happened. He looks over his chest and he notices a big stain of coffee. Why bother for the floor when his shirt is dripping in coffee?

He frowns, observing you standing up with paper towels in your hand. You look at the mess you made by dropping your coffee on him and your face is filled with shame. You bring the towels to his chest, trying to fix the damage you have done on Taehyung, but nothing works except getting worse.

"I can't believe it either." He says, exasperated. He steals the paper towels from your hand and decides to wipe the excess of coffee himself. If you're silly enough to spill your drink on him, he better clean it himself. "Who hired you? Bet you're a trainee." He scoffs, the incompetence certain people have will always amaze him.

"I'm sorry, really. I wasn't looking where I was going." You apologize again and you seem genuinely sorry. It was probably nothing but an accident, but Taehyung is very exhausted. He can't deal with trainees who only have 'bringing coffees' as their daily task.

"Yeah, learn to fucking walk." As he spits his anger on you he lifts his gaze on your form and he feels a tiny bit of guilt poking at his heart. Truthfully, he wasn't looking either. He was lost in his thoughts again, walking to his dressing-room by memory.

You open your mouth to say something, to defend yourself because he has no right to talk to you like that. But you close it. 'If you have nothing kind to say, don't say anything.'

He gives you back the soiled paper towels, pushing them on your chest so you can feel the wetness of them. Just to be mean, just a little revenge. He doesn't need revenge, quite frankly. You are trying your best, it's obvious, but Taehyung is so tired. It's the last thing he needed today.

Slumped on the couch in his dressing-room, he browses through an Elle magazine. His mom has always loved this magazine, she had one in her hands every week. He admired all the women that were featured on the first page, finding their poses and their model face so interesting. He loved the way they were dressed, how their makeup embraced their unique features.

They were beautiful, like his mother. He wanted his mother to be a model, to show to the world how pretty she was. On the other hand, she didn't want to. She was too shy, but when her son became a model instead, she was delighted. It was still a win because Taehyung was cherishing a part of her beauty.

"Tae, come on." His manager instructs him to follow with a wave. "It's your turn."

"Coming." He throws the magazine on the low table in front of him as he gets up on his feet.

"What happened to your shirt?" The man points the big brown stain of coffee on his chest.

Taehyung sighs, rolling his eyes as he shoves his hands in his pockets. "An employee dumped her coffee on me. I have nothing else with me, so I guess I'm going out like that." His manager only hums, walking where the photoshoot takes place.

He sees you again, fumbling through clothes and giving people directives. Why would you tell them what to do when you're just a trainee?

Makeup artists and hairstylists all rush to Taehyung, touching up his contour and his bangs. A woman applies some powder on the entirety of his face while he closes his eyes and scrunches up his nose due to the brush getting in sensitive areas of his face.

"Ok!" A man yells and suddenly everyone backs away from him. When he opens his eyes again, you're right there, clothes in hands. You're standing next to the photographer, which Taehyung supposes was the person that just yelled. "I want the jeans to be done. We have a shit ton of them. That's good for you, Yn?" You open your mouth to respond, but you're cut off right away. "We don't have a choice anyway. Come on, let's go!"

The photographer literally doesn't give a shit. Taehyung already feels the monstrous hours he'll spend trying fucking jeans and shirts. He would complain to his manager, but he knows it's not worth it.

"You- You can get rid of your clothes." His eyes shift down to you, your own avoiding him. He then realizes; you're not a trainee, you're the stylist. Of course you are. "And put those on." You hand him a stack of clothing. "I mean, just those jeans. For now." You point him a pair of pants. "With the shirt, obviously..."

Are you naturally that silly or has he this effect on you? It wouldn't be the first time a woman crumbles down over his looks.

Taehyung inspects the room, but there's no place for him to change. He has to do it in front of every eye because no one cares about his intimacy. It's not the first time he has to, usually it's like that for fashion shows since the time is running out fast. It's like nobody minds because anyway, he's showing his body to the world, why would it matter to have privacy?

As he is unbuttoning his shirt, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and he sees you again, smiling because it would be rude not to. "I can ask for a screen. We have them in the back, they always seem to forget about it..."

Why are you being kind? He cursed on you not even an hour ago. You have other things do to than to care about him and he doesn't want your sympathy or whatever this is.

"Taehyung! What's taking you so long? Come on!" The photographer yells again, adjusting his camera, not even glancing his way.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize in a small voice, stepping away like a little mouse running back to its hole in the wall.

After three hours, the photoshoot is finally over. He has already another one booked with Guess, and fuck, he wanted to refuse so bad. He wants to lay in bed and do absolutely nothing, but is it his job to decide what to do? Not really.

He dresses himself back up, wincing when he takes the soiled shirt in his hands. Most of the employees have left while the photographer is reviewing the pictures carefully, spotting any unfavourable details. His manager is talking with someone, probably discussing the next appointment.

And you, you are tidying the precious clothes back on the rack and neatly folding them. You do it with an impressive precision and he can't believe that someone so perfectionist can knock him over, spilling a cup of coffee on him. But at the same time, working for such an important brand seems new to you, it stresses you out. You're scared to be told you're not doing good, not doing a perfect job.

But he doesn't know you and he doesn't want to. Taehyung shouldn't be wondering about your life. You don't pick his interest at all.

In his dressing-room, he hears small knocks on his door. It can't be his manager nor the photographer since they both left not long ago. Could it be you? You were the last one here, still occupied with folding pairs of jeans. No, why would it be you? Heck, why is he even thinking it could be you?

He opens his door, without a shirt on because he's not wearing the one that you have stained. Oh, it's you. "Hey, sorry to bother you..." You laugh awkwardly and he would say that you are uncomfortable around him, but for some reason you keep bugging him. "There." You show him a white dress shirt on a hanger. "Since I... Well, since I accidentally ruined yours."

He takes it from your hand, looking at it by turning the hanger around. There's a tag on, the logo of the famous brand written on it. Size medium.

You stand there, surely because you expect him to say thank you, but you quickly realize that he won't. "Again, I'm really sorry-"

Taehyung lifts a hand in the air, indicating you to stop. You do, closing your mouth with a confused expression on your face. Right now, you think that he is an asshole, that no matter how kind and respectful you are, this man doesn't want to hear from you.

"You keep apologizing. Stop."

"Sorry-"

"Stop." He repeats, this time sounding annoyed. You gulp and nod, finally leaving.

"Do you know how fucking crazy this is?" Jungkook exclaims, his boots squeaking on the marble floor of the expensive store. "Like, DGC, man. They only sign with legends." He is sporting the biggest smile ever. Taehyung finds that he looks like a kid, nothing comparable to the rockstar that he is.

"Mhm." Taehyung mindlessly checks through the Ralph Lauren polos and shirts.

His friend sits in a chair, his ankle placed on his knee as he wiggles his foot. If he wasn't JK, he would have been thrown out of the store really quickly. His tattoos and his piercings often send the message that this man isn't distinguished, but since he has money, they let him in.

"Dude, are you even listening? I swear, we should leave this place. I don't like how they are staring at me." Jungkook is referring to the employees, not minding their business as they keep their eyes on the famous man.

"They stare because you're a celebrity, Jungkook. Or because you're loud and drag your dirty boots everywhere." Taehyung smirks as he looks behind his shoulder to see his friend's offended face.

He pouts and repositions himself in the chair. "Don't talk about my Docs like that."

Taehyung laughs at him, shaking his head from left to right. He finally picks a long-sleeve polo off the rack, inspecting it from every angle. It looks like the one he bought for his father not a long time ago for his birthday. He had taken a break, flying off to France.

The house he had grown up in hadn't changed a bit. His room was in the same state he had left it in, his toys hidden in a box under his bed and his posters of AC/DC and Queen still plastered on his wall. When he was a teenager he was really into rock, it was starting to get popular after all. The younger him wouldn't have believed he'd become a fan of jazz.

When he gifted the polo to his father, he had looked at him in a strange way, an emotion he couldn't decipher passing through his eyes. He had taken off the price tag so he couldn't know the price, but his father wasn't stupid. Ralph Lauren is expensive and his parents refuse categorically to buy out of price clothings.

So that's the one he'll buy today. "I found what I was looking for." He says while walking to the cashier with Jungkook following behind.

But something - rather someone - cuts him in his tracks. "Taehyung, hi!" He snaps his head in the direction of the feminine voice, his sharp eyes finding yours instantly.

You're wearing a floral jumpsuit with heels. An odd choice considering your small height, but it suits you well. It makes you unique. He bets if you were in a crowd full of people, you'd be the first he noticed.

You avoided him the last time he went posing for Guess. You gave him the outfits without saying a word and went on with your work. You didn't bother caring for his privacy nor did you say the word 'sorry'. He would never admit it to anyone, but he watched you from far away anytime he had the chance to. Your superiors didn't seem to have any respect for you, never acknowledging your opinions. Taehyung felt sorry for you. He knows what it's like to be belittled.

Now, why are you giving him your attention, though?

"Hi... Yn." He greets you with little - indeed no enthusiasm. However, Jungkook seems very enchanted to see you, eyeing you up and down as if you were a piece of art hanging on a wall. Taehyung sees the interest that his friend has for you, and for unknown reasons, he doesn't like it.

"What a surprise to see you here! I mean, I- I didn't think I would run into you here..." Your nervousness around him would endear him if he didn't know you as the silly girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He knows for a fact that you would have apologized again for the incident if he hadn't told you to stop doing it before.

"Yn... What a beautiful name you have." Jungkook outputs his seducing skills and Taehyung hopes you don't know him or you're not one of his fangirls. Your eyes shift on his friend and he has the impression that they didn't want to leave him. "Never heard it before."

He flashes you a smile. You can't help but giggle at that and Taehyung hates this sound. "Really? Thank you." You answer shyly and he rolls his eyes. You're too smart to fall for that, he tells himself.

"Do you know who I am?" You raise your eyebrows at Jungkook's question and Taehyung holds back a laugh.

"Well, you're JK, right?"

"Exactly." He smirks and Taehyung can't believe it when he sees him winking at you. His friend has no shame.

You laugh, but it sounds forced a little. Is it possible that you are actually not falling for Jungkook and his miserable way of flirting? Your gaze is quick to remain to Taehyung and it feels right, somehow. It feels like your eyes are meant to look at him and no one else, but it's non-sense. He doesn't want you to look at him. Does he?

"I was wondering... Is your contract finished or...?" You ask hesitantly, not finishing your question so it seems more innocent, like it's simple curiosity.

"No, actually it ends whenever they decide to." He doesn't seem to understand the implications or he just doesn't mind them. Taehyung is not the type to complain, but it's beginning to look bad. His ex would have told him he's dumb for not reacting at how he gets treated, at how he's not even considered like a human being at this point.

But you, you just frown, showing your emotions instead of telling them. You don't know him enough to say anything anyway, but the way your expression tells him everything, is just astonishing.

"I have to pay. Goodbye." Jungkook scoffs at Taehyung's coldness toward you, looking at him like he's crazy to leave you behind when you offer him your kindness.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" His friend shouts at him as he puts his article down on the counter and takes out his wallet. "She was begging you, Tae. You're blind or what?" He doesn't respond and watches the cashier pack his polo in a paper bag with the brand name on it. Suddenly, Jungkook snaps his fingers, making Taehyung turn his head in his direction. "She's the stylist, isn't she?"

"You're fucking annoying."

"She is!" He groans at that, wishing he didn't tell his friends about the coffee incident. It's not even that important, why did he tell them? Jungkook is walking excitedly beside his friend, enjoying how much Taehyung hates this moment, but he has to talk about it, unless the man wants to pass out on his soulmate. "Invite her out."

Outside of the store, the usual sounds of cars and honks are heard. The pavement is so large it can fill a lot of people, the absolute contrary of Paris. The two cities have a lot of similarities, like being the most popular and populated cities of their respective countries, but they are also very different on a lot of aspects.

They are both dirty and filled with rats, but Parisians are less stupid than New Yorkers. Though, New Yorkers are less pretentious and rude than Parisians. Everyone has their flaws.

"No. Why would I?"

Jungkook chuckles as if the answer is obvious. Right, maybe it is, but he doesn't want to know it. "She has a crush on you and how long have you been single, remind me?" He counts on his fingers and Taehyung laughs at the absurdness. "Two years and six months! When was the last time you got your dick sucked?"

"Jesus. Jungkook, you're-"

"Don't tell me it was at my party! You didn't fuck since three weeks?" In reality, he didn't even pull any women at Jungkook's party. He wasn't in the mood for a hookup and it wasn't worth his time, but his friend doesn't have to know. He'll annoy him even more if he tells him the truth.

"I don't have groupies that are waiting for me to sleep with them and even if I had, I wouldn't touch them with a fucking stick." Jungkook shoves him away and they both laugh together.

"Come on, my fans are the most freaky. You wouldn't believe half of the stuff they want me to do to them."

"I would, actually."

It wouldn't be such a bad idea when he thinks about it. He talked about it with Jimin after he hung out with Jungkook and he believes the same. You seem interested, and Taehyung hates to say it, but you're pretty too. Not his style, but pretty.

He looked at you today, though. You made eye contact more than once and he could tell it made you flustered. He enjoyed that, how he can turn you into a stuttering mess with one simple look.

He knows you're still there, as always. You stay late, after everyone. You want to finish your work or whatever you're really doing at the back. He just has to ask you to come inside and there's a big chance you'd accept.

He hears footsteps passing by outside and that's the sign he needed to finally get up. He opens the door, "Hey." You turn around, startled. You didn't expect him to still be here and talk to you. "Can you come in?"

Your legs move hesitantly toward him in your pair of flare jeans. They hug your thighs deliciously, and you might think your tummy is less visible in them, but it's not. And Taehyung finds it attractive.

When you're standing next to him, your lips part from each other, your upper teeth showing. "Is everything alright?" You ask and he hates how you care about him as if you were both friends.

You haven't spoken to him since you ran into him at the store and you approach him like he didn't turn you off twice. You should stop being kind, you should not let people walk over you. Who is he anyway to give advices when he doesn't bother to stand up for himself?

He tilts his chin to the interior of his room, walking in silently as you follow him without asking any more questions. He closes the door behind him and gets closer to you, locking his eyes with yours. There's a part of him that hopes you'll run away from him or slap his face for the words that'll leave his mouth soon. Another part wishes you'll make him forget about his ex-girlfriend.

He takes small steps closer to you until your back hits the wall beside the door. Your eyes look up at him in awe while his reflects nothing expect for your small figure trapped under him. "Are you into me?"

Your eyes widen open. "What? Uh- No... no."

"Don't lie to me." He towers over you and he hates how small you are compared to him.

"Who... isn't?" You breathe out shakily, arms secured to your sides. "Why are you asking me that? I thought... you didn't like me."

He thought so too. Taehyung is selective, he doesn't want to waste time by building a relationship he knows isn't worth it. But that's the thing, he can't know if you deserve his time or not if he pushed you away. He wants to give the impression that you annoy him because that's the only way he can persuade himself that his heart isn't free.

If his love doesn't belong to her, it belongs to nobody else, but he's wrong on that and you need to make him realize it somehow.

"It's not like that." He exhales, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again. "Be honest with me." Say the truth to him so he knows real love exists, so he understands that holding back can't always benefit him.

It's weird how he hates this conversation and can't seem to end it at the same time. Maybe he doesn't know what hate means. Your shampoo is invading his nostrils, a soft odour of green apple tickling his senses. You smell good, yet he tells himself that it's an intolerable smell.

"Yeah, but it's nothing." You shrug and chuckle, but Taehyung doesn't find it funny. You look down at your feet and your hair follows your movements, gracing the sides of your face.

His hands move up on each side of your head on the wall and he slowly leans down. He glimpses at your lips and wonders what they taste like. Can he know without getting attached?

You look at his lips too, but you don't chase them, you let them come to you. You whimper when Taehyung crashes his mouth on you, taking your breath away.

He places his hands on your hips, bringing you with him. He breaks the kiss as he sits on the couch while you stay up between his legs. He palms your thighs with his big hands and his slender fingers squish your flesh through your jeans. "Tae-Taehyung..." You call him with an unsteady voice, gulping as his face is really close to your crotch. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He reuses your word, his palms coming up to touch your butt. His gaze lifts up and he looks unfazed like he wants to make you believe that it's really nothing. The reality is that he's scared this will mean more than nothing to you or to him.

Love is scary, but that's the feeling he craves the most. If he could, he would go back to his ex and beg her on his knees. He can't so he's ripping it out of you like your heart has always been his property, like your love is due to him. But he shouldn't do it if he doesn't intend to give it back to you.

He unbuttons your jeans and works on your zipper to pull it down. "Wait! I'm not- I didn't..." His dark pupils raise up again, observing your bottom lip being bitten by your teeth. "Shave." You say quietly like you're ashamed of it, as if he'll push you away in disgust.

Taehyung isn't the one that'll tell you you're beautiful and that society's beauty standards are non-sense, cruel towards women. He's not here to help you achieve the level of self-love that you deserve. It's not his job, but he will surely not let that insecurity get in the way of having sex.

"Does it matter?" He tugs on your pants, lowering them to your mid-thighs. If he wasn't good at hiding his emotions, you would see lust dancing in his eyes and hear groans leaving his throat. Your pink cotton panties with a bow in the middle is the sweetest thing he has ever seen. You weren't expecting to have any sexual intercourse and it turns him on so much. "Because it doesn't to me."

He brings his middle finger to your core, your panties are drenched, a slightly darker shade of pink crowning the area around your hole. He swipes his finger along your pussy and he can feel your lips spilling out of it. You grip his shoulders when he brushes over your clitoris, pressing slow circular motions on the little bud of nerves with his digit.

He elicits sweet moans out of you, his free hand holding on your thigh harder, his nails sinking in your meaty flesh. He leaves sloppy kisses on your stomach, just over the band of your panties. Your skin is as sweet as your sounds and soft to the touch.

You whine as his annular joins his middle finger on your clit, gently flickering it and bringing you closer to your orgasm. "Remove them, please, please..." You form fists into his shirt, gasping when he presses harder on your sensitive bud.

He continues his movements while he looks up at your face, mouth half-open and eyebrows furrowed. "What? Want me to remove your panties?" His tone of voice could resemble to him teasing you, but he knows that his question is exactly what you want.

"Yes." You nod rapidly and he smiles.

He tugs your underwear down, your core sticking to it as he settles them over your jeans. His eyes then focus on your hairy cunt, moving his palms on the meat below your ass, squeezing it softly. "What a pretty pussy." He purrs at you and his hot breath tickles your skin.

He pulls you closer and he can smell you, smell your arousal. The odour of sex is really strong, but he likes it, unlike your shampoo. He supposes you're dripping wet, and just to prove his thoughts, he slides a finger through your folds, collecting an enormous amount of arousal.

He rubs his wet digit on your clit again and you buck your hips into his face, demanding more. He accepts, giving your bud a lick with his tongue. You moan out, burying your fingers in his dark brown hair. He kisses you where you need him, to warn you or to soothe you, whatever fits better your fantasies.

He sucks on your clit and you whimper, clenching around nothing but air. His hands continue to knead your thighs and ass, giving your pussy a well deserved treatment. Taehyung has always liked giving women cunnilingus just because he knows they don't receive them often. He can please them with so little, yet it represents so much to them.

Your nails dig into his scalp as his tongue moves side to side against your bud of nerves and he groans from the pain you're inflicting him. "Taehyung?" You say his name in a high-pitched voice, whining after his tongue presses harder on your clit.

"Mh." He hums against you, feeling your legs shaking under his palms. Your thighs clench around his head by reflex and you shove his mouth harder against your pussy, making Taehyung groan again.

You squirm and whimper while he sucks on you fervently. "Ah!" You gasp when he slaps your ass cheek, looking into each other's eyes as you unclench your thighs to leave him space to move. "I'm sorry... Just that-" You grip his hair tighter and you fuck yourself on his face.

He flattens his tongue on your cunt as your pleasure takes you over. You rut your hips against him, closing your eyes and moaning out as he holds you by your thighs. You tilt his head back by his hair and he winces from the pain, but he keeps his tongue out, suffering gladly for you.

From this angle, he can see your face entirely, capture every expression. He finally feels his hardness trapped in his pants, his tip leaking pre-cum and damping his boxers. He wants to take it out and bury it in the warmth of your pussy, hearing the wonderful wet sounds your hole will make with his dick pounding inside.

The sight of you humping his tongue desperately makes his erection twitch angrily in his pants and right now, he thinks he can never get enough. Enough of your body, of your smell, of your voice, of you. Enough of the way his mouth makes you see stars, the way your eyes nervously find his on the other side of the room, the way you smile at everybody despite their indifference for you.

"I'm gonna cum!" You tell Taehyung as you use his tongue to get you off, the knot in your belly exploding. Your thighs shake while you drive out of your orgasm, rubbing your clit on his pink muscle. You moan, throwing your head back and gripping his hair as a poor way of holding you from breaking apart. "Oh, my God..." You breath out shakily.

You slowly detach yourself from Taehyung, your hands trembling slightly from your intense orgasm. He wipes off your lust from his chin with the back of his hand, licking the excess off from his lips as well. You sigh as you look at him, incredulous from what just happened. Though, he's not done with you and you understand it when he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You then remove your shoes and slide your clothes down your legs, getting rid of your jeans and panties in a second. His shirt still hangs on his shoulders when you push him aside on his back and straddle his hips, your bottom half totally naked.

He frowns when you make eye contact and he hears what his heart is saying. It asks him; 'are you ready to feel alive again?'. As his black orbs are scrutinizing each detail of your face, he fears love, your love.

He gets out of his thoughts when you pull yourself up his body, aligning your crotch over his face. He wasn't expecting to eat your pussy again, but he won't say no to your silent pleads. Your hole has opened up, naturally adjusting itself to his cock as your inner thighs are sticky from your cum.

He feels his penis throbbing in his boxers, painfully resting against its confines. "Hold on, pretty. I'll just..." You wait carefully, your pussy dripping from your wetness above his handsome face. You turn your head around at the sound of his belt clanking, his long fingers working on his zipper. He lifts his hips up to lower both his pants and underwear, giving you the beautiful view of his big cock.

You gasp as his dick springs free, sitting gracefully on his tanned stomach. "Taehyung..." You seem impressed, looking at his erect penis with admiration. He catches the way your walls contract around nothing, a desire to be filled to the brim without you even realizing it.

"Something's wrong?" Nothing could be better for him, but you might think you can't handle him, can't take him.

You reluctantly look away from his crotch and then down to his face, hidden under your wet cunt. "You're- You're huge." You exhale through your nose and Taehyung deduces that he's the first man you ever saw as big as him.

"Yeah." He agrees without saying anything more, only shifting his hands to the back of your thighs.

With a last glimpse in his direction, you lower your crotch on him, sitting down on his face. You whine when his tongue comes to lap directly at your sensitive bud. Your fingers find their place in his hair again and his scalp is burning by now, but the pain cannot compare to the one of his erection.

You wiggle your hips a little as he stimulates your clit, reaching for more friction. He switches positions when he hears you whining desperately, needing more, always more. His tongue glides along your folds, pulling your pussy lips apart that were sticking together by your cum.

He teases your hole, circling it and licking it from your juices. His big nose brushes your bud of nerves, sending heat between your legs as you contract your walls around his pink muscle. The whole scene feels like a pornographic film, but with the realest reactions you could ever witness. You hump his face and moan like it's the first time you have someone's tongue fucking your pretty pussy.

His cock throbs on his stomach eagerly and Taehyung has had enough. He slips a hand down his body to reach his sex and a groan leaves his mouth when he grips the base of his dick. The sight of your pussy over his face and the thought of you suffocating him between your thighs make him so hard he can't keep his hand away from stroking his erection.

"Uhh, Taehyung... This feels..." He's all ears when breathy words stumble out of your mouth, praising him, telling him how good he is at eating your dripping wet cunt. "This feels incredible... Oh! my God." He squeezes the flesh of your ass in his palm at that, his way of saying thank you.

He runs his fingers faster on his shaft, spreading his pre-cum over his entire length. You're so hot, it's a shame he never realized it before. Nothing's hotter than a woman falling apart over his mouth.

He shakes his head slightly, giving you more friction against your clitoris that is pressed up against his nose. His tongue enters and exits your entrance at a delicious pace, moving around in you, teasing your sensitive spot. He gives you everything, relentless with his licks, spending all his energy for you because you asked for it.

His strokes are harder around his cock, the skin of his palm slapping against his pelvis. You whine, but this time it sounds painful. You still keep going, rolling your hips at the pace of his tongue. You seem uncomfortable, though, and Taehyung doesn't want this to end badly. "What's up?" He asks, soft eyes observing your face and you frown as you bite down on your lip.

You shake your head and swallow in a whimper. "My legs start to hurt, but it's okay. Continue, please." Whatever you want.

He resumes his thrusts on his cock, stroking his tip while applying pressure on it. He hisses before burying his head back between your poor thighs that are shaking both from pleasure and pain. Your hands move to the armrest of the couch instead of his hair and he misses your fingers messing his hair around.

You now rut your hips more greedily, your clit rubbing perfectly against his big nose. You moan and you chase your high while Taehyung jerks himself urgently, wanting to cum at the same time as you.

He grunts as you clench your walls, a sign that you will cum really soon. He pants heavily, feeling his balls tightening, his toes curling from the intense pleasure. You turn your head around and when your eyes fall on Taehyung fucking his fist, you moan loudly. "I'm coming, fuck!" You inform him and your hands return to their spot on his head.

Your thighs tremble and close around his fluffy head of hair, gripping tightly on strands of hair as your orgasm hits you like a brick. You whine and roll your hips on his face, driving out of your high.

That's all it takes for Taehyung, moving his palm up and down his hard cock like a maniac. He throws his head backwards, his mouth leaving the warmth and the wetness of your pussy. "Shit, shit, shit..." He grits his teeth and you can't hold yourself from looking at his hand stroking his big dick until long ropes of white cum spill from the tip. His cum lands on his stomach, his abs flexing as he milks his cock dry. "Putain."

Your attention goes back to his handsome face and your heart skips a beat when you meet his eyes wide open on you. His eyebrows are furrowed and a silence floods through the room, only your pants are heard.

He wants to take you in his arms, hold you tight and never let you leave him. He wants you, but he can't. No, he can't because then what would it mean to have you? He wouldn't be able to keep you safe, he knows it. If he couldn't for her, why could he for you?

"Can you-" His voice disturbs you during your thoughts, probably thinking this is it, this is the moment your love story begins. But no, not with Taehyung.

"Yeah- Yeah... Sorry." You get up from him in a hurry, taking your clothes from the floor.

He sits up on the couch, gripping the tissue box laying on the coffee table. He cleans himself from his cum and puts back on his pants and boxers. He doesn't even have the chance to look one last time at you before you're leaving and closing the door behind you.

Why does he feel weird like he's missing on something?

"Oh, fuck! Taehyung!" Your chest is bouncing around as Taehyung's pounding hard into you, relentless. Your pussy is still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but you take his dick anyway.

You're bent over the couch so he doesn't see your face. So he doesn't see your emotions. Since the day he brought you into his dressing-room, it's the same.

He locks the door, turns you around and bends you over with one hand on your back. He tries to convince himself that not seeing your face helps him to not get attached, but it does nothing but amplifies the thundering of his heart. And he's fucking scared.

What if you do the same to him? What if you start to like somebody else? It might happen if he continues to deny his sentiments, but he just can't face them, he can't face the reality because it's too harsh. It's always too harsh for him.

You whine under him, your walls clenching around his dick, keeping him stuck to you. He slams his hips harder on you, trying to show a little bit of anger, but it doesn't work. You like it, no matter what he does, you take it and enjoy it.

In his dressing-room, at the back storage, in the bathrooms, in the studio when everyone's gone, you do it everywhere. And you're good at it, really good. He doesn't think about his ex, not anymore. Not anymore because you're replacing her and this is new. It's disturbing, but also nice.

"God, it feels so good! You're so big..." Every time you speak, it makes his stomach twist until the knot explodes and he comes hard into you. Your voice is the thing he can't escape while fucking from behind and that's why he's failing miserably at holding himself back from you.

"Yeah?" He thrusts into you at a fast pace, his balls slapping against your thighs, wet sounds filling up the room. "Like my fat cock inside your needy pussy?" He asks, his fingers melting into the curves of your hips, staying there for good.

"Mhmm." You nod and whimper, his dick making you feel full. "So much, Tae. I like it so much."

"Putain." He curses as he throws his head back, closing his eyes. He knew how it would be at first, he knew and he still fucked you as if he could ignore the beating of his heart in his rib cage.

Your ass jiggles each time he bottoms out into your cunt, your arousal dripping down your thighs and sticking to his dick. You're so wet that he feels absolutely no restrain when he pounds into you mercilessly.

You were not made for him and it's clear that you both were not meant for each other. You're not his type, you didn't catch his eyes and your personality doesn't match his. But after so much time spent together, wether it was to fuck, to argue or to awkwardly talk about your lives, you finished by naturally fit like pieces of a puzzle.

Your pussy has taken the size of his cock, his fingers have left indelible marks on the skin of your hips and thighs, your nails have left red scratches all along his back from the couple of times you did the missionary and kissing has become a habit.

And now your two bodies make one.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum." His erection twitches inside of you, your velvety walls contracting around him. "Inside of you, pretty. I'm gonna cum inside of you..."

You moan at his statement, liking the idea as much as him. "Yes, please, Tae." You grip the cushions in front of you, whining into the pillows as Taehyung fucks you harder and faster.

"Yeah? You like that?" He receives a cry as an answer and it makes him go even deeper, if it's possible at this point. "Want my baby, pretty girl? Hm?" Imagining you with your belly swollen and big from carrying his child makes him feel things he didn't know existed. The mother of his baby, you, out of all people. You make him go insane.

"Yes! Knock me up with your seeds, fuck..." He groans at that, frowning as he feels his cock throb inside of you again.

"Fuck!" He bucks his hips into yours, his pelvis pressed against the curve of your ass. He ejaculates deep inside of your quivering hole, moaning out loud as he paints your walls white of his cum.

He pants heavily, trying to catch his breath while your thighs shake like a leaf. He lumpily thrusts his dick in your pussy, getting down from his high. He passes a hand through his hair, wet from his sweat. He slips out of you in one swift movement and you slump down on the couch.

Back in your clothes, swiped from all the remains of your sexual activity, you seem hesitant, wanting to say something but unsure if it's a good idea.

"Hey, you know... Your contract ends really soon and..." You fidget your fingers, looking everywhere but at him. "And maybe, I don't know, we could go out." Taehyung freezes on the spot before turning his head in your direction, watching your form sitting uncomfortably on the couch.

This is what he was afraid of. You liked him and it was dumb to think your feelings would go away by making you his fuck buddy.

"I really, really like you, Taehyung. I know that you didn't appreciate me at the beginning, but now... Perhaps it has changed." You look at him and flash him a sweet smile. He avoids your gaze, stepping away from you, breaking your proximity. "Would you? Would like to...?" You follow him, chasing his love, his affection he refuses to give you back.

"No." You frown as he faces you again, his abrupt answer making you gulp. "I can't- I can't..." Taehyung searches for his words while you stand there, looking like a hurt puppy. "You can't ask me what I can't give you, okay? You can't."

"What do you mean, Tae?" You dare to move closer to him. "You have to feel the same as me, right? You- You tell me all those things and..." Your eyes shift down to the floor, ashamed of yourself, feeling stupid to have thought he would have accepted.

You're not asking him a lot, just a date, just a simple date where you would learn more about each other. His heart wants it, but he doesn't want to go this path again, he's not ready.

"I can't give you love. I don't want to." His voice is stern and in your eyes, he seems heartless. In reality, he's broken. Only broken. "You'll hurt me, I'll hurt you and, fuck, I just can't."

Normally, you would be gone by now. She would, his ex would have left him alone. But no, you have to stay, you have to be stubborn. "Taehyung, it's okay, I'm not asking you to love me. I understand that you might not be ready and it's fine, really."

You lock eyes with him, and all he sees is the purest soul to have ever landed on this earth. He's aware of his beating heart, of the butterflies flapping their wings inside his stomach. It's obvious, it has always been clear, he just denied it, over and over again until you finally pluck up courage.

"I love you." The words slip out of his mouth and your eyes light up. "I don't know how to give it to you, though. I don't deserve you, I don't deserve someone like you who loves so easily..."

For so long, he thought he wasn't able to love anymore, not after she ripped him apart. He saw her in every woman and it was devastating how he couldn't detach himself from her. And if he just refused to love anyone, he supposed it would be less difficult, less tiring.

He was the one who locked up his heart in a cage, giving the key to his ex who didn't even care because for him, she was the single person capable of bringing him joy and comfort.

Everything became untrue when he met you, when you spilled your coffee on him. You made him feel angry at first, but it was so subtle that he confused it with love.

"Oh, Taehyung..." You take his hand in yours, swiping your thumb over the back of his hand. His eyes are on you, listening closely to your gentle voice. "Love isn't meant to be easy. It's not always pleasant or hurtful." You speak with tenderness, reaching his poor heart, wanting nothing but to escape its cage. "We have to make it work because it's worth it."

You are... right.

Running away isn't the solution, sticking to the past either. He wants you and he'll do his best for you, to have you by his side no matter what. That's what he needs.

There's no such thing as a key to a heart because he decides who he wants to love. Taehyung isn't a lost soul or a broken heart, and even if he was, you would be the angel to bring him back to life.

"Happy birthday, baby." You smile at Taehyung with your arms around his shoulders, caressing his hair. He smiles back at you, and you swear nothing will bring you more joy than seeing him happy.

You peck his nose on your tiptoes because this man is too tall for his own good. He tightens his grip around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. He looks fabulous in his little suit, a white shirt underneath his brown vest with a cute tie that you specifically bought for his special day.

"Thanks, pretty." He swings the both of you from left to right to the beat of the music. You giggle as he sports this charming expression on his face, one eyebrow lifted and a smug smirk on his lips.

You sigh contently after your laugh has died, looking into Taehyung's eyes. If you were in a cartoon, his eyes would be heart-shaped, literally. You can't help but smile. "Do you like it?" You ask him, tilting your head to the side.

He looks around him, watching the group of jazz playing beside them, then the old couples also dancing around like you and Taehyung. "I adore it." He responds, giving your lips a soft and passionate kiss.

Since Taehyung has quit his model agency for a better one, things are easier and he seems much happier. You stayed by his side during all the procedure, supporting him as his girlfriend. He talks a lot about his emotions now and you can help him this way.

He made the cover of Vogue France not a long time ago. He had to travel to France and he brought you with him. You met his parents, two lovely people who have so much to give. You think his mother quite likes you, she was impressed by your stylist career. However, his father, you don't know. He's really difficult to decipher, like his son.

You have seen Jungkook again and you also met Jimin, Taehyung's best friend. The three of them are really close and you were enchanted to get to know them. They are great friends for your boyfriend.

"Do you want to go to Jungkook's afterparty?" He chuckles at that, showing you his boxy smile.

"I doubt you would have fun there..." He raises his eyebrows as you remain confused, asking him why. "You know, lots of celebrities, lots of girls... Lots of drugs!"

You laugh, shaking your head from side to side. "Okay, okay, I get it, but he threw that party for you, baby." You slide your palms down his shoulders, patting his chest.

"I know, but I'd rather spend the night with you and make love to you..." You feel your face burning at his confession, but you still smile anyway, giving his chest a little tap. He laughs, making you twirl around before catching you in his arms again. "I love you." He whispers, his hot breath tickling your skin.

"I love you too, Taehyung."

[starvvie]

Reading 🖤 Ongoing.

the b.s.t. mission, 03 | jungkook

synopsis. you are a renowned special agent from kcia and a particular mission is appointed to you. an unsound terrorist is on the run, and to make it worse, you partner up with a guy you hate. to catch this man, you are sent disguised as a newlywed couple, and in the process, everything happens. a lot of danger, mystery, and tension. jeon jungkook is definitely the one to blame for the latter.

pairing. jungkook | reader

genre. secret agents au + angst, fluff, smut

word count. 4847

warnings. threats, mentions of terrorists, foul language, and jk running around shirtless bc that itself is a warning to my heart

a/n. it’s been a while, but we back ! this chapter is now fully rewritten ♡

chapters.  02  »  03  »  04

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horus academy → masterlist

© horus academy | all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own. if you find this work elsewhere besides the three blogs stated, please report it to any of the writers. 

@socksjinie × @singguks​ × @bluenpjm​

summary. in a school where greek methods rules, not everything is as clear as it appears to be. heart, mind, soul, and body. those are the teams of the horus academy and boarding school. but deep within the long corridors, lies dark secrets. the so-called loving families formed in the shape of teams begin to tear when an anonymous source unravels their deepest secrets. 

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— YOONGI ★.ᐟ

[starvvie]

being given a hickey.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━��masterlist

━ about: fluff, some hints of angst and some suggestive hints

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NAMJOON | The evening crawls by slowly. The setting of the orange sun bathes the apartment in bright, warm light before it’s inevitably replaced by the overhead lights. You shuffle around in your peace, alternating between cooking and cleaning up the dishes and though there is a vague sound of demo song rolling from Namjoon’s home office, you ignore it at first, having been subjected to much of his releases over the years. However, once the TV show you’ve been passively watching becomes too boring to endure any longer, you paddle towards the closed doors. Namjoon sits slunken back into the chair, wearing a deeply etched frown upon his face. 

You poke a head into his makeshift studio, nose wrinkling at the smell of the stale air. 

“Hey, Namu,” you call out, an unassuming lilt to your voice. “You coming to bed?” 

He turns round, appearing a bit dazed as though he’d forgotten there was anything else outside the studio. You don't entirely put it past him. Namjoon takes a gander at you then at the small window facing the darkened outside, grimacing at the fall of the night. 

“Yeah,” he drags out tiredly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright. I cooked some dinner. The leftovers are in the fridge if you want them.” 

Something about the sentence upsets him as the ends of his mouth draw downward and just a second after his hand beckons to come closer. You do so, slightly confused at the sudden request of proximity. Without saying anything, Namjoon wraps a hand around your lower waist, hoisting you up his lap, chair giving out a pitiful squeak underneath the combined weight. 

“It seems that I have neglected you tonight,” he mutters, voice falling dangerously low. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s alright,” you brush off, trying not to stroke his ego too much. Your heart might still be fluttering as his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face but god help he did not need to get any more complacent. 

“It ain’t,” Namjoon shakes his head grimly. “Come here.” 

He leans in with dead set eyes and you close your own, wholly convinced on receiving a kiss on the mouth but instead you feel his plush lips press up against a point just below your jaw and the subsequent teasing scrape of his teeth. 

Your mouth falls open in a shuddery “oh” and Namjoon takes a deep inhale, smile noticeably curving against your slowly bruising skin. 

He pulls away, letting you — a bit dazed, a bit stupid — off his lap where you come to stand shakily on the carpet.

“Run along,” he chuckles somewhat insidiously, clearly taking some amusement in your befuddled state. You huff, flipping him off in the rising frustration but you both know it’s all without bite. 

YOONGI | “Yoongi—”

“Five more minutes.”

Briefly you think of arguing but sensing how despairingly his fingers dig into your sides, you relent with a heavy sigh on the lips and a complicit turn of the head. 

“Good,” you hear him hum appreciatively, vibrations rolling against the blackened column of your throat.

“What’s with you, old man? Mid life crisis?” you grouse but it is graciously ignored. A hefty scent of whiskey wafts from his greedy mouth as it’s pressed time and time again, teeth and all, against your skin. Figures that the grandpa has to be drunk to wrangle you so shamelessly. You sit perched on his lap, confined there by his arms, having nothing to stare at but each individual detail of the living room’s wallpaper. It’s soullessly grey —you’d whined to him about it needing to be changed. Suddenly a sharp pain flares against the muscle in your neck and you let your discontent be known. 

“Ow! Yoongi!”

Sinking your fingers into his hair, you pull harshly on the dark locks, instantly feeling some resistance. 

“Jus’ a bit more,” he mutters lowly, pulling you closer, impossibly closer, as any second now you swear you’d melt into one another. Finally with a wet pop, he unlatches himself away, wiping the remaining saliva with the sleeve of his jumper. Possessing a slight yet somewhat understandable tremor in the knees, you sit back on his calves, feeling the muscle grow taut underneath. 

“May I go now?” you inquire tiredly, recalling the bowl of batter that was forcefully abandoned on the kitchen counter. Yoongi looks up at you with hooded eyes and reflected in them is the whole mass of everything he felt but found too difficult to say out loud. And yet that just made you love him all the more. He seems to be enthralled by some deep passing thought and after a moment of consideration, there comes a clear answer. 

“No, I shouldn’t think so.”

JIN | At most it was ten minutes. What with the recipe being something so crude as "toss the eggs into a pan" one wouldn’t expect more than that but then again one wouldn’t expect the hump attached to your back. 

“You’re hampering with my breakfast,” you give a low hiss of warning but the sack only tightens his grubby hands around your waist. 

“‘s not that important,” he mutters into the crook of your neck, the motions leaving a wet imprint upon your chin. 

“Not that important,” you scoff. “You’re the one who woke me up saying you were hungry.”

“Not for food.”

You halt for a second. 

“Leave.”

“Always so cold-hearted,” Jin whines, voice falling quite offended as he fondles the flesh underneath his warm palm. “You know how many people would kill to be where you are?” 

“Then let them,” carelessly, you try to fight his grasp, having half the mind to just smack him with the spatula. “I want my fucking breakfast!”

“Me too!”

“Not like that!”

And then you feel it — unmistakable, intrusive — the literal biting sensation of his teeth meeting your neck. Your heart jumps in your throat and you hate the fact that even after all this time he has this much power over you. 

The spatula comes soon after. 

“OW!” in trying to evade the hit, Jin unclamps his jaws from your neck with a bothersome sound. Immediately, your hand darts to the sore spot, wiping off the saliva with perhaps too feigned of a disgust marring your features.

“No eggs for you,” you grumble but from the shit-eating grin lighting up his entire face, it’s not hard to guess that Jin didn’t give much of a shit. 

HOSEOK | Drowsily moving the toothbrush along the inside of your mouth through the haze of sleep you examine the hues of purple alongside your lower neck and shoulders. One particular mark piques your curiosity and after spitting out the toothpaste, you lean towards the mirror, poking a nail at the darkest of bruises, marveling at the dent reminiscent of moon’s sickle. 

“Good morning,” Hoseok’s gravelly voice can be heard in the doorway, before he enters the room, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your head. 

“What was with you yesterday?” you ask, hoping that the literal light of the morning will shed some insight on the proverbial dark. 

“What do you mean?” Hoseok furrows his brow but once you point at the formed bruises, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothes out. 

“Oh right,” you hear him whisper to himself before reaching into one of the closed cabinets. He quirks his head to the closed lid of the toilet and with a sigh, you sit down upon it, shivering slightly in the morning cold.

Hoseok misinterprets this and bids a quick though heartfelt apology.

“No, it’s not what I meant,” you rush to shake your head as Hoseok continues to slather the numbing cream onto your battered skin. “You just…I don’t know seemed somehow different yesterday.” 

His lips purse together in a thin line whilst his gaze traces the dark spots with a thoughtful glare. 

“I was in my head,” he finally admits somewhat sourly. “I was scared, you know, of you…forgetting me.”

“Oh, Hoseok…”

“No, don’t pity me,” he interrupts wearing an expression of hidden grief. “Just…don’t forget me.”

You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of such a plea. Like you ever could. 

“I won’t,” you promise, reaching to wrap your hand around his that was still applying some lotion. He gives a gentle smile hearing it, before letting out a demure chuckle. 

“And I promise to use my words instead of teeth.”

JIMIN | Because you so amicably ignored his first over-exaggerated huff of irritation, Jimin doubles down and after leaning up right next to your ear he takes a deep breath and then exhales with a loud noise of pointed discontent. 

“If you’re going to be annoying, why did you want to come along?” you try to pry him off your shoulder with a shrug of the shoulder but Jimin being Jimin remains one obstinate cuddle bug. 

“I thought you’d be quicker with it,” he whines, casting a damning glare towards the pair of joggers held in your hand as though they were the ones at blame. 

“Well, you’re not exactly of help here,” you remark in a hushed tone as a pair of giggling schoolgirls pass too near. “You just say everything looks good to make me leave quicker.”

“You do look good in everything!” he cries out with a pout chockful with objection and though you shush him, glimpsing nervously around if everyone’s watching too near, his voice drops in volume but not in its offended quality. “Even if it’s not your style,” he continues his point. 

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you hiss, delivering an elbow to his ribs, eyes already scouring something good in the discount pile of the in-between season sales. Your heart goes out to the workers — it was a battlefield. 

“I’m hungry,” a voice whispers in the shell of your ear, prompting long lines of goosebumps despite you wholly knowing who it was.

“Then go eat.”

“How dare you! We eat together, that's a rule!”

“We’re not kindergarteners! I don’t need to hold your hand as you eat.”

“Speak for yourself,” bitterly, Jimin mutters underneath the breath before he gains a curious idea, one that warps his mouth into a sly smile. 

“Let’s go,” Jimin whines, leaning his full weight against your side. His lips come to nip at the side of your neck and you groan feeling the familiar sting of his impatient pecks. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you something tomorrow.”

“Ease up, Park,” you warn him, fruitlessly trying to shoo him away. The top of his hair itches the sides of your cheeks and you stifle the smile threatening to break out.

“Let’s gooooo.”

“Nooooo.”

He leans back, narrowing his eyes in a stormy expression before leaning in one final time - this one grasping a much larger area of the thin skin of your neck before passing it under his teeth. 

“OW!” you cry out, quickly reaching to cradle the sore spot. Right under the side of your jaw. You swat at him lightly, forming a pout yourself but imperiously, Jimin only turns up his nose, though the arc of his smile betrays him in the end. 

TAEHYUNG | “Your hand is sweaty.”

He immediately pulls away with a demure “sorry” under breath. 

“I didn’t mean “let go”,” you grouse.

Peeking at Taehyung from the corner of the eye — it’s unmistakable. The way his gaze flits from one passerby to the next, the rhythmical gnawing of his jaw — a futile way to expel stress — he was nervous. 

“Why are you worried?” you inquire gently, slowly moving through the bustle of the celebrating crowd. A national holiday — it was vain to hope you could get from point A to point B without much trouble. 

He mumbles something as an answer but it's too incoherent to make out. His eyes move with increasing speed, jumping hurriedly across the moving wall of strangers. 

“Let’s move to the side,” you urge and he complies easily with the pull of your hand, honestly appearing too overwhelmed to propose any sort of argument. You press him against the bricked up wall of the nearby cafe, forming a makeshift shield between him and the crowd at large. No one is paying any attention — the flowing bubbles, calls of the nearby vendors, the straying rays of warming sun — all of it is too much for anyone to cast their gaze to the side. You feel Taehyung’s fingers cautiously brush up against yours as if weighing on the thread between good and bad. You grip them back with ardent fervour and it’s not long before he slumps up against your back, head falling down into the crook of the neck.  

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbles. “I don’t know why so suddenly—”

“Don’t worry,” you hush him, inspecting the crowd for any straying interest though there is none. “Let’s head home and watch something good, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters miserably, his breath tickling along the side of your ear. “I ruined a good day.”

“It’s still a good day,” you correct him, patting the arm that by now has moved on to tightly gripping your waist. “Don’t worry about it.”

Still he lays an apologetic kiss to your nape and seconds after you feel a somewhat shy nip along your throat — it was a comforting tactic for him and recognizing it, you crane your head to allow more access. If anyone does notice you two lingering in the corner, the sight is too intimate to stare. Once the swarming crowd thins out of the main street, disappearing down the more picturesque river, you scrape gently down Taehyung’s scalp, rousing him from whatever zone of comfort he’d sunken into. The side of your neck aches from the force of his bites but you don’t remark upon it. Blearily, Taehyung blinks down at you, a relieved sigh tumbling from his lips as he looks out and sees the street empty.

“Let’s go home,” you urge him softly.   

JUNGKOOK | “Does it hurt?” he wonders, letting an inquisitive finger poke at the blossoming bruise. The flesh pales only to regain its full dark glory once the pressure grows lax. 

“A little,” you admit quietly, hearing just the end of a vague hum in reply. “Do you feel guilty over it?” 

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, admiring his “work” as his gaze drags ever so slowly upon each individual proof of his love. Or so he called them. 

“Not really.”

He gives a shameless smile and dives in once more. Even now your breath stutters when feeling the scrape of his front teeth against the sore flesh. Inescapably, he meets the seam of your shirt and with a displeased growl, he yanks it away, leaving you practically bare chested. 

You stare hazily into the ceiling of his apartment, listening with the ends of your ears to the soft music swirling the warm air. Jungkook’s curls itch at your nose which is a telltale sign —

“No, don’t,” you protest, giving his bicep a weak squeeze. “I’m tired of wearing turtlenecks.” 

Somewhere underneath the mop of unkempt hair there comes a disagreeing hum but resentfully he abides to your wishes, travelling lower and lower, the curve of his nose tip brushing against your collarbone. The last bite is particularly harsh, reminding either you or himself of who's whose. It is a fleeting moment of possession, one necessary to upkeep the balance thus you don’t mind it so. After a good chunk of an hour, Jungkook finally disconnects, leaning back into the cramped sofa with a grin of pure victory. It is however quickly wiped away as Bam decided to make two into three, propelling all of his adult Doberman weight on top of Jungkook's back.

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[starvvie]

— LISA ★.ᐟ

[starvvie]

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