#Bts blog

[oftenderweapons]

Bourbon Bossa Nova | MYG | Pt.1

This story is part of the Blue Crush Collab

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (nicknamed Sunny)

Wordcount: 7k

Rating: 18+ (This part is pretty innocent, but Part 2 will feature mature content)

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, composer!Yoongi x lifeguard!YN

Content warning: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sexual thoughts. Allusions to death, child abandonment and family loss.

Synopsis: when you start your summer at Honeycomb Cove, you're only expecting sunshine, waves and annoying teenage bravado as you work as a lifeguard. What you don't expect is Min Yoongi. He wasn't expecting you either. Soon your morning walks are your favourite part of the day, until you realise it's not really the walks, maybe it's always been him you are, after all, waiting for.

Shoutout to the incredible folks who helped me find courage to keep believing in this fic - and finally posting it. To Mars (@joheunsaram), To Bells (@youtifulhobi) to Yannie (@ressjeon), my power squad who believed in this fic (and in my writing skills) more than I did. Here's to me finally breaking my dry spell!!! And to some of my old and new supporters and cheerleaders @lelegzem0, @aanncchhuu, @blushingatyou and @percheee (other people are most definitely in this list but Tumblr is limiting my access to previous notes so I can't find you all) You folks are part of the reason I'm still rolling in the dust here on Tumblr

Part two out now!

Here's my masterlist, just in case you're new

Also: disclaimer! (very important, I should have put this first) I'm not Brazilian, and I have very little familiarity with Brazilian culture, but I really wanted to do a shoutout to this incredible country, its people, its art and its music. If you have any notes you would like to leave regarding Antonio's characters and Yoongi's attachment to Brazilian culture, you are the most welcome, both here in the comments and in my blog. I'd love to learn more 💜

Enjoy the fic!!!

May is a great thing. Flowers everywhere, the smell of sunscreen starting to spread in the air, orange dawns, hair getting frizzy with salty air and too much time in the water. Sand under your toes, loose linen garments, wearing a sports bra and a pair of shorts all the time, throwing an oversized sweater on when the night gets too cold, the smell of citrus and geranium to keep mosquitoes away. 

Early summer is great. Way better than midsummer and August. May and mid-September had always been your favourite times of the year: the beginning felt like sparks starting to burst, and the end felt like the natural conclusion of things, that languid nostalgia sweeping in gently, like the soft wind ready to carry in autumn days and blow the leaves away. 

The smell of rosemary and lavender and juniper accompanied you to the beach as you walked down one of the side alleys. 

“Good morn’ Earl!”

The old man turned to greet you as he kept watering the hibiscus bushes before the sun became too blinding, burning the poor flowers. “Morning Sunny!”

“Remember your heart pill!”

“Sure! Already took it!” Earl shouted back, his voice bubbly and bright. 

You waved at him as you kept walking, ready to meet your next friend. “Hello Rosa!”

“Hi Sunny!” 

The old lady already had her cocker spaniel on a leash, ready for her morning walk. “When’s Mindy coming around this year?”

“Mid-July. And she’s taking her children too!” The woman looked ecstatic about her daughter visiting. 

“That sounds amazing! I really have to rush, bye Rosa! And bye Lemon!”

“Lemon say bye!” Rosa told her dog, making her bark just in time before you started your jog. 

Being a lifeguard was great. It was the life you had always dreamed of. You had always worked out to fit in the lifeguard guidelines requirements, and a good ninety percent of your decisions had been oriented to making sure that you could be a lifeguard from the second week of May to the first week of October — that is the entirety of tourist season. Once autumn arrived, you would resume working at the retirement home: it was only your second year with that working arrangement, and you weren’t sure it would work at first, but your grandmother being the godmother of the director of the elderly institute guaranteed you would always find a spot working there; plus, they were also constantly in need of an extra set of hands, especially if those hands came with a degree in nursing. 

You’ve always known you wanted to work in elderly care just as much as you’ve always known you were made to be a lifeguard. Your parents were worried over the sort of sacrifices and strains that such an occupation would entail: all the caregiving, and the cleaning and the affection you spend on people you’re inevitably going to lose; yet it felt natural to you. Sure, some people can be antagonistic and diffident, in some cases you end up being more of a nanny than a nurse, but most of the time, it’s worth it. After two years in this field, the ups are definitely brighter than the darkest lows, and you’re under the strong impression that it will keep being so. 

Back to the glorious morning in front of you, you took off your flip-flops as you reached the best place in the world: the golden beach of Honeycomb Cove. Smiling, you fixed your cap on top of your head and walked to your tower, depositing your stuff in the cabin before going for your morning run. As you were opening the umbrella, taking in the blue infinity of the ocean before you, you spotted an unfamiliar figure below, a big fisher hat on its head, a long-sleeved white shirt covering its arms, a stick in one hand while the other was pressed to his lower back in a fist. 

“Hi, hello there!” you greeted, a wide smile for the small, old man walking on the shore before your tower. The bizarre figure lifted his head up, eyes squinted, his button nose curiously pointing about as he looked for the voice. 

“Over here! Good morning, sir!” You waved energetically at him, the man frowning — not that you could notice that, because of the distance and the hat. 

“Morning?” he greeted back in confusion before continuing his walk. 

Yoongi was extremely confused when he heard the voice. His night had been too long for him not to suppose he was hearing voices. Maybe his time had finally come and that was the call of some deity summoning him to whatever comes after the struggles of the living. 

What he didn’t expect was for the voice to call again, this time the source clearly identifiable. He squinted at the lifeguard tower and offered a small wave in greeting. 

She — that had to be a she — seemed to be set alight in sunlight, the early morning light making her glow in something brighter than gold. 

He had a precise image in his mind for a second, something his grandmother had told him when he was a child. Something like mythology, like Achilles’ halo of hair, or Helios who carries the chariot of the Sun. 

He shook his head and continued walking, turning around only once he was several feet ahead and her long legs had carried her in the opposite direction, her wide strides amazing Yoongi, who could just stare at her golden, looped locks bouncing as she played with the back-and-forth of the tide, running along it. 

For a second, Yoongi thought of The Girl from Ipanema, shortly before remembering all the controversies behind it, and how much his grandmother hated the song because of “the male gaze”. With chastised pupils, he let his gaze fall back to the fragments of seashells at his feet, the distant fall of her feet meeting the sound of the tide calling to his ears in a hypnotizing beat. 

All the way back to his home, Yoongi let it ring and echo through all the empty halls of his brain, until he could finally — although artificially — recreate it in the calm of his home, and let it resonate through its corridors.

Yoongi would define himself quite a reserved man. He had his home — an old Victorian-style house in the more quiet and deserted part of the bay, too inhospitable for tourists, still linked to the naval history of the cove. He had renovated the house after his grandmother had left it to him, replacing the old wooden axes with new, not rotten ones, repainting the walls and repolishing the floors, installing soundproof panels on the room he had decided to turn into his studio. 

It had only been a short while since he’d moved into the beach house; his college in San Francisco and his scholarship and research in New Orleans had sent him spiralling between opposites, diving deep into sounds he wasn’t entirely familiar with, and in a bout of homesickness and confusion, he’d decided to return to his true roots, to his true north. 

Here he could daydream of green hills and golden beaches of a faraway place that he could only imagine through the saudade of an old immigrant. He could feel the beat of that city that was nothing but an overgrown village, the roaring of cars on dirt roads, and that open-armed man that seemed to be every man, every woman, every human being in that open-armed city — that all-forgiving man that seemed to welcome strangers, with their weary feet and guilty souls. 

He knew the place that inhabited his wildest dreams, his most romanticised visions, no longer existed. It had been erased by decades of progress and politics and human greed. That place where all his bedtime stories took place was no longer, and maybe it had never been. Yet Yoongi longed to reach that all-forgiving stone man and feel, just feel how the rolling waves carried all the nostalgia and the sins and the tears of those lost souls that reached a new land hoping for fortune and maybe a brand new start. 

He too was something in between worlds. Son of a woman adopted by a foreigner and a man lost in time, somewhere. And there was nothing more foreign to him than the woman who had raised him, the same woman who had given him the house he was living in. He had always been drifting in something somewhat estranged. His mother had been a nobody, abandoned before an orphanage, the only known facts were her name — Moonbae — and that she had been abandoned as the last of sixth children, her family too poor to afford her. As a twist of fate, she had then been adopted by an American anthropologist — Yoongi’s grandma — who had always respected her will to stay away from her past. Still, loss persecuted her, her loving, if a little taciturn adoptive father passing due to a mysterious disease somewhere in Guatemala. 

It took several years for Beatrice and Moonbae to settle in the old colonial house in Honeycomb Cove; Trice had returned to her great-grandmother to assist the incredibly old lady to her last breath. Needless to say, she then inherited the house. The women lived sheltered, quiet lives until Moonbae got pregnant. A summer fling, that was all it was, the man a fleeting tourist who took a risk too many, fathering a son he would never take care of. 

His absence was filled by someone who looked the exact opposite of the little moonbeam of a child, laying pale and tranquil in his cradle, lulled by strange, exotic songs that his grandmother had perfected for him. 

Beatrice fell in love with a man who became everything to Yoongi — someone Moonbae never approved of, so much so that she decided to leave town when her son was maybe four years old. She never returned. Beatrice never looked for her either. 

Antonio was eighteen years younger than Beatrice, his skin a rich cinnamon shade, his accent so thick that it took a while for Yoongi to decipher the heavy Brazilian cadence in the man’s English. 

Yoongi preferred when Antonio spoke Brazilian Portuguese, anyways. By the time the boy was fourteen, he and his acquired grandfather easily conversed on the wooden patio, drinking lemonade, a guitar in the man’s arms. Antonio taught Yoongi everything, the boy so taciturn, so eager to listen, that the nationless musician let all his woes and nostalgia pour out. And maybe the man was no citizen, something in between an exile and a fugitive, but in that old house, he found a home, with Trice constantly refusing to marry him and loving him like a madwoman at the same time. 

Yoongi doubted love like that could exist anymore. A love so strong that when she had passed, Antonio had magically drifted away together with her a few months after, disregarding his significantly younger age. What the not-so-old man would never say was that he passed in tranquillity, knowing that he had taught his spiritual child all he had to offer. 

And just so, Yoongi won a scholarship, all because of the easy, wordless afternoons when Antonio taught him to play three instruments and speak that language that reminded Yoongi of his old cat, Sweeper, and the way he lazily rolled around in the sun. 

Now he was just a young man graduated from a prestigious music academy in San Francisco, two of his compositions had been featured as soundtrack in a couple movies, and he was already producing for a small recording studio specialised in chamber music. He didn’t make much money out of it, to be true, but sometimes he managed to have an extra income with royalties, and he was currently composing his first mixtape — for which a studio had already contacted him, and the fact that Antonio had introduced him to some of the most influential artists in the San Francisco scene had quite definitely jump-started his career. 

He was living a cool life, the kind of life he had always seen himself living. He worked at night and finished his day at seven am; then he would head out for a walk, when the sun was still gentle in summer and when it would be barely up in winter. And next, he would sleep. Wake up around five pm. Get some food ready and start all over again. He’d returned to Honeycomb Cove only six months prior, so he hadn’t yet entirely reconnected with his local social circle, plus most of his friends were still in college, which meant that it wasn’t that easy to arrange a get together. But to be true he was quite excited about Seokjin being back in town and spring break approaching. By summer come, they would all be a great team again and he would feel like he had all the time in the world. 

His musings were interrupted by the doorbell. That had to be his pizza. It was almost eleven and Gerry, the old Italian man who owned the pizza place at the end of the street, always knew that Tuesday night meant late night pizza for Yoongi. 

He grabbed the money — already perfectly calculated so he could pay for the pizza and leave a tip for the delivery boy, Pippo. But tonight it wasn't the delivery boy knocking at his door. As he opened it, he found a wondrous mass of blond curls right in front of his eyes. “Oh, hi!” 

“Hey!” The voice sounded chirpy, familiar. 

A sudden breeze pushed the stranger’s perfume past the doorway, the scent crashing over Yoongi like the surf. God she smells good, Yoongi thought, lips agape as he stared at the woman in his doorway. It was a mix of coconut and papaya, the scent overpowering the tasty smell of his pizza. 

You put on your friendliest, warmest, brightest smile, then said: “We met on the beach right? You must be Min Yoongi. I'm _____. Gerry said you always dine alone and told me you could use some company.”

“I'm not a charity case,” Yoongi replied before realising how rude he'd just been. 

“Well, that's a funny introduction, Not A Charity Case. Is that the name you chose to go by? Like Jenny From The Block?” You shook your head and looked away. “What told you it's not me who could use a friend. May I?” You asked, pointing at the door, asking if you could enter. “You can ask Gerry. He sent me. I've just arrived for the season and I could really use a friend. He told me you're a good person and you're always alone too.” 

Yoongi was almost outraged by your insolence. Were you always so blunt? He was also confused: what kind of setup was this?!

You passed him the pizza and he lifted the lid, checking that it was actually his and that you weren't an imposter, or a serial killer. 

'Take the golden retriever girl. She needs a smart friend. -G,’ read a note left inside the box.

“Yeah, I’m Yoongi,” he said, almost defeated. “Come on in, then.” If he found his house entirely stripped of anything worth money, he would sue Gerry. 

“Oh. Thank you.” You flashed him a grin. 

Yoongi's knees almost caved. What a smile. It was like… like staring at the sun. But in a good way. It was like a blue sky. Soothing. Serene. Cloudless, pacific. 

You placed your own pizza box next to his on the counter while at the same time you looked around. “Wow, your house is so pretty. Your family lives here?” 

Yoongi opened his pizza and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “I don't have a family anymore.” 

You froze. “I'm sorry.” You were already failing at this. That's why your friends all had fake teeth and a medical record thicker than your cookbook. Not to mention the average age.

“It's okay. I got used to that. You should be the lifeguard, right? Wait, would you like some beer?” 

You shook your head. “I'd like some water please.” 

Of course you would, he realised. You had to be one of those health freaks. He could already anticipate how easily he could make you run from him with his suicidal diet. 

He placed a glass beside your pizza box before sitting down and getting ready to dig in. “I still owe you the money. From the pizza.” 

“I already paid for both. I thought that since I wasn't bringing you a housewarming present, I could at least buy you some food.” You took a slice and started eating up, humming and nodding at the taste. “I get why he works so much. This pizza is heaven.”

“Yeah. All the kids here grew up on sunshine and Gerry's pizza,” Yoongi mentioned casually. He liked that you talked with your mouth full. He did, too. Beatrice had never liked that. 

“Are you from the neighbourhood?” He asked before wolfing down another slice. 

“Kinda. I live a bit farther into the mainland. I used to come here on holiday when I was little. With my parents.” You took a sip of water as Yoongi learned one more thing about you. 

“I thought so. I don’t really remember you from growing up, and me and my friends know all of the locals.” Yoongi studied your face, trying to dissect any detail that could make you familiar. 

“I see. You’ve been raised here, I assume?”

“Yup.” The silence is heavy, but at least you can distract yourself with food. “So, lifeguard? That your dream job?” He said it sarcastically, almost evilly before he realised you were nodding eagerly and happily. 

“My great-grandpa was a sailor. I've always wanted to live by the sea.” You munched on the crunchy crust, Yoongi blinking rapidly. 

Making fun of you felt like shooting a dead body. There was no use — and no mercy — in doing that. “Shouldn't you be in college or something?” 

“I took nursing school. And I'm old enough to be out of college.” Yoongi’s tone had really made that sound like an insult, but you tried your best not to assume the worst.

Yoongi tried to get on his better behaviour. You were a new person, you wouldn’t understand his sardonic tone. “I'm sorry,” he said, contrite. 

“For what? Me being a certified nurse and a person in charge of other people's lives? I know I look stupid, no need to rub it in.” You arched an eyebrow, rather fed up with the weirdness of this exchange, of the man sitting before you. You stood up and closed the box of your pizza, still half uneaten. “Sorry I disturbed your night. Enjoy your meal—” 

“Wait, no! Don't go, please.” He didn't know what suddenly convinced him to make you stay. “I was a dick, I'm sorry, let's start over.” 

You hesitated for at least three seconds and then, despite your better judgement, you sat back. “I'm ____. But my friends call me Sunny. It's my middle name. Really. My parents thought it funny.”

It suited you so damn bad. Yoongi wanted to bask in your aura in a hammock with a slight breeze and a samba playing in the distance. “It's a really nice name. It really suits your appearance. And I mean that as a compliment.” 

You breathed out the tiniest laugh. 

“I'm Yoongi and that's the only name I have. We don't use middle names.” He relaxed once you opened your box once more. 

“Where is it from?” You asked, recognising the name being foreign. 

“My mom's name is Korean. She picked a Korean one for me too. Just to remind me we're not entirely American.” He was vaguely bitter about that. Maybe just indifferent, you told yourself. That must have been tough. 

“That's interesting,” you mused, drinking some water. “How old are you?” 

Your question was naive. Childlike. “I'm twenty-three. And you're…?”

“Twenty-four. Twenty-five in a couple weeks.” You smiled and he was once more lost in how radiant you looked. 

Once you were finished eating, you rinsed your hands at the sink, helping him get rid of the boxes before shyly following him as he moved to the living room. 

“Wow.”

“It's a bit overwhelming, I know.” He looked around, analysing the room through a stranger's eyes. “My grandma was an anthropologist, my grandpa too, though I never met him. She travelled a lot and always brought back fancy things.” 

“What's this?” you asked, watching a strange fork of sorts. 

Yoongi sat down and grabbed a bizarre little stick, no bigger than a pen, with a large ball at the end. He hit the fork, a soothing, metallic sound coming out of it and the box at its base, amplifying the cold dong. “It's a diapason. It gives a specific note. This one sounds like la. Or A, whatever notation you prefer. We use it to tune instruments like guitars.” 

You nodded. “That's interesting. I like it.” 

Yoongi chuckled. “It's very soothing, right? It resonates at a frequency that has positive effects on humans. My grandma used to play it when I needed to calm down as a baby.” 

Thinking that the coarse man before you had been a baby felt baffling. “And it still relaxes you?” 

“It does. But I think it's more of a reflex. I think they trained me. Like Pavlov's dog… Wait, was that Pavlov?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a giggle. 

“Sometimes I think I was a strange experiment. That's what happens when you have two scientists in your home.” He shrugged with a funny grin on his face, his cheeks going puffy as he did so. 

“It's okay. You lived through that. You're not doing bad for a lab rat. You could be having bald spots by now,” you joked, almost expecting him to get confused or disgusted. Instead he laughed. 

His laugh was so soft. He actually looked soft, with his gums out, his cheeks puffed up, his nose curled up cutely. Yoongi was cute. Very much so. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” 

He blushed to his ears. “I'm a musician. And a producer.” 

“Wow. That sounds cool! How does that work?” Your voice was filled with wonder, making Yoongi understand that after all it wasn't like you were dumb. You were just unashamed of not knowing things. 

“I make songs. Spend too much time on the computer fixing songs for other people. And then spend a little bit of time with my instruments, going through riffs and melodies, finding little things that inspire me for longer songs or pieces.” Yoongi stopped himself from dumping all of his artistic worries over you. 

“You studied at UCLA?” you asked, knowing that was the best place for a person like him. 

“Actually, no. My grandfather got me into an academy in the city. I mean, my granny's boyfriend,” he corrected himself. Considering Antonio his grandpa had always come natural to him, but he'd never substituted himself for Trice's husband. 

“It's so cute that she found a boyfriend. You mentioned your grandpa passed so I guess she met the guy after?” You posed the question gently, wording it accurately. 

Yoongi nodded. “Yup. I was a toddler when they met.” 

You hummed. “With all respect to your grandpa, I like when old people find a partner — or at least, someone meaningful to them. It brings a lot of joy and newness in their lives. Partnered old folks have a way less lonely life. And it seems they live longer too! I read a paper for a course back in college.” 

Yoongi was pleased to receive confirmation of you being an old people's person. Hopefully you also hated kids so he could actually deem himself safe. “So you actually liked nursing school.”

You bobbed your head enthusiastically. “I’ve always liked the idea of working in a retirement home. Old people have so many stories and so little audience. I like staying with them, helping them write memories they can pass to their overly busy children and grandchildren. And they learn about technology, they play cards. They crochet! Isn't that amazing?!” you exclaimed with a radiant look on your face. 

Yoongi realised you were a genuinely generous person. You reaching out to him wasn't just Gerry forcing you to Yoongi's place, but hopefully you needing a friend. It really seemed you could use a pal your age. “And how does that pair up with your lifeguard position?” 

You shrugged. “I've always loved the beach. And splitting it with caregiving helps me from taking nursing too seriously. It helps me worry less about people… passing, you know.”

Yoongi nodded. He hadn’t thought about what it means taking care of someone day after day after day, and then suddenly they’re gone. He also thought about the different weights of a job: probably that was the same reason why it had taken him so long to work on his music while delivering piece after piece for commission. He had lost the passionate side of it.

“So, your granny's boyfriend got you into a music academy and then?” 

Yoongi smiled, then he started telling you everything about that. 

The two of you talked way deep in the night, the initial strangeness turning into easy chit-chat about school, life, family and work… It was almost one in the morning when you realised it was time for you to go. Once Yoongi noticed how long he’d been talking to you, he blushed and understood it was time to say goodnight, no matter how warm and welcome he felt at your side. 

He accompanied you to the door, then stood on the porch, waving at you before wondering whether he should accompany you home. “You’re staying here in town, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just five minutes away from here. I have my bike.”

“You don’t want me to drive you?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for your reply. 

You shook your head. “I’m okay, don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Yoongi realised the reason why he felt sad about you refusing was exclusively because he wouldn’t be able to spend more time with you. He was struggling to let go, after only a couple hours of chatting, and at least half of that being awkward acquainting with someone new. 

And to further increase his struggles, he could almost hear Antonio scolding him for letting go of someone that made him feel good. “Will I see you tomorrow morning at the beach?”

You were ready to leave when you heard Yoongi’s question. It sounded vaguely insecure, as if he was testing the waters. “Come meet me at seven. I’ll be there.”

Yoongi nodded to himself. He should have asked for your number. Stupid social anxiety. 

“Goodnight Yoongi!” You waved from the gate before leaving.

He stood there, arms crossed, shrinking inside his striped polo shirt, its long sleeve doing very little in keeping him warm. So unexpectedly his night had changed. He thought about the percussion riff he’d jotted down that morning around nine, laying in bed, sleepless. For all he knew, you could have possibly changed his life. 

He would remember tonight forever. 

The following day, Yoongi left his house at six forty-five. You had given him a when, but not an exact where. He was nervous. And he was somehow hoping that seeing you in broad daylight would somehow lessen your magic. 

How wrong he was. 

He waited for you at the feet of your tower, leaning against it nonchalantly while he almost ran to get there in time. Watching you arrive in sunglasses and a white sundress was definitely something. You looked like the kind of girl that could have starred in Dirty Dancing. 

“Good morning, sir!” you greeted, waving. 

“Stop treating me like an old man,” he complained, however you heard some irony in his voice. 

“Not my fault you behave like one!” you bit back, amused and maybe a little cheeky. “Hello Yoongi,” you tried again, more calmly now that you were standing before him. “I’ll go get changed quickly so we can go on a walk.”

He nodded and looked at the horizon before him, his ears blushing at the thought that you were half naked just a few steps away. You looked so lean and fit and tall and he was… He was struggling not to let his mind run wild. After all you were just a prettily shaped woman. No more, and no less. 

All the months that had passed since he’d last slept with someone weren’t a valid reason for him to think of you half naked.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, basically throwing yourself down the stairs and taking a few small jumps on your spot — like a golden retriever too excited about going out. You started with a jog, only to watch Yoongi’s panicked look. 

You exploded with laughter. “See, I told you! You’re an old man!”

Yoongi hid his smile with a pout before catching up with a few quick steps. “Do you need to run or can you just walk?”

“I’ll walk in the water. Helps me burn more energy and work on my stamina,” you replied, entering the water to the point it reached your knees. “You can walk on the shore. Did you sleep well?”

He looked away.

“Oh, right. You work at night. So— Did you… produce?” You looked down, careful about not splashing him. 

“Oh, yeah. The conversation with you was very inspirational,” he conceded. He hadn’t worked half as much in the last four weeks. Listening to the little riffs and chords hidden in your voice was like experimenting with a new genre. It was as if he was building a new theme for you. Something that signified your presence, but at the same time conveyed the fits and starts of meeting someone new, and getting to know them, and discovering something new about oneself from all the analogies and differences they could see with the other person. As much as he was composing about you, about the little bits he’d learned about you, he was in some way also composing about himself. 

The process had been thrilling and once he’d finished the first, roughest draft, at dawn, the music felt so vibrant that it could properly and proudly accompany the rise of the sun. It was of course still only a draft, but the way you’d talked deep into the night, the way you’d circled around things until they’d come out right, had inspired him to give it all a try. It didn’t need to be perfect, it only needed to work. And work, in the end, it did. He only wished he had sampled a piece of your conversation — that joke about him being a lab rat… the laughs that followed. It would have been great for a skit. 

“You know, I really wish I could listen to your music. I'm kind of curious about what such a quiet person considers noise worth listening to.” You looked at him. “After all, music is just very tidy noise right?” 

He smiled. “Yeah, I would agree to that.” He looked at the seashells on the shore. “I'll make you a playlist. I'll include random stuff I like listening to.”

“Oh, I'd love that!” you replied enthusiastically. “We can make a playlist for our walks!” 

Yoongi’s ears perked up at that: “walks”, plural, which meant you would do this again, soon. He was pleased at the way you had so casually hinted at creating a routine. He had someone to share music recommendations with. Someone who would maybe recommend pieces to him in return. He realised he was excited about this. So many new sensations, and none of that as unpleasant as he’d thought. He could get used tho this.

Once the two of you said goodbye, he realised he couldn't go to sleep. He was too excited about making a playlist and sharing it with you. Walking with you in the gentle morning sun. Hearing you laugh. 

Yoongi understood: he was making a new friend. 

Having walks with Yoongi became extraordinary. You started associating him with the tender colours of the shyest sunshine, and the sweet cotton scent of his shirts in the gentle morning breeze. The way his soft locks danced in the ocean air, tangling together, the way his cheeks turned into little ice cream scoops when he smiled at you as you greeted him good morning. 

Likewise, Yoongi started adoring sunshine. You ended each of his nights, bringing him into the reign of soft morning light, introducing him to a brightness he'd always much preferred doing without. Truth was that his ears had become acquainted with your vintage summer bops, with the way your steps would automatically sync up with the beat of Pumped Up Kicks when the song started playing, and your little blonde baby curls would end up bouncing by the time the first chorus came around. Sometimes you looked like one of those strange horses trained to match the rhythm of music. Dressage, wasn't that? 

And then, you loved his calm acoustic ballads, the relaxing guitar riffs that accompanied the rise of the sun. 

Once your shared routine of morning walks was sufficiently cemented, you trained him, like a stray cat, to stick around some more after your walk, convincing him to join you for a morning snack. You always brought him iced coffee and a peach jam sandwich while you drank your aloe and matcha drink before indulging in an avocado toast. He liked your mornings as much as you did. You also probably liked each other too. 

Your perfect sunny streak was tainted only by a mildly cloudy morning, during which Yoongi showed up at your tower anyway, an extra sweater on top of his long sleeved shirt. He knew you'd probably be cold. 

The striped black number seemed to be big enough for you to fill it up comfortably. After all, you were half a head taller than him, and your arms were significantly longer. At least by three or four inches, he had to admit. 

When you showed up, you looked drowsy, your hair was half low and you were carrying a different bag from usual. “Morning old man,” you called, placing your bag at the feet of the stairs. 

“Morning, Sunny. Wait. Are those actually knitting devices in your bag? Wonder Woman ____ knits?” 

“Shut up. Linda taught me. It's just something to share with the ladies at The Orchard,” you justified yourself. “We'll see if you still joke about that once you get your soft, handmade cosy sweater this winter.” 

Yoongi blinked, suddenly realising his expression had been shifting to a pout. “Are you still going to be around this winter?” 

You invited him upstairs, avoiding the question for now. Could you wait from September to May to see him again? Could you go so long without him? 

As you picked up a half knitted torso from your bag, pressing it to his face, you realised you couldn't. You also realised you had made a naive mistake. You had thought you were domesticating a stray but in the meanwhile you had opened him your home, your heart. You had invested your time in him and that made him much more than a stray. You were giving him a forever home.

“Is this for me?” he asked innocently, gently, rubbing his face against the soft, airy fabric. 

“It’s alpaca wool,” you commented drily. You already knew you would give up on your long-term dream sweater only to see him all fluffed up in the pastel mesh of colours. You smiled as he pressed it closer to his face.

“So soft,” he murmured, nuzzling up against the small piece of knitwork. The moment he opened his eyes, you realised his nose was just a tiny bit red from the chilly breeze coming from the sea, carrying a storm in its wake. His cheeks were rosy and puffy, his eyes big and dark. And his eyelashes, so dainty and insanely… flirtatious? He looked like he was seducing you for the slowest of seconds. 

You looked away, cheeks aflame. “Let’s go. Before the rain comes.”

Yoongi startled at your tone, cloudy for the first time since that night when you’d known each other too little, and he’d been unforgivably too sarcastic. He followed you like a confused pet down the stairs, then grabbed his earpods and passed one to you. 

You were especially thankful for the music now that your thoughts were too scattered for you to form sentences and make some conversation. 

“It will rain in a bunch of minutes,” Yoongi commented. “There’s no use walking today.”

You ignored him. Would he leave if you agreed with his statement? Would he think walking was pointless, and therefore there was no reason for the two of you to spend any time together today? Too lost in trying to find a meaning to how sad you felt at the thought of being apart, you didn’t realise a raindrop had hit your nose. 

The storm was coming. 

An angry guitar riff came on, The Neighbourhood blaring from the earphone as Yoongi grabbed your hand. One drop followed the other, his hand around your wrist as he tugged at your arm, running fast, faster, to a speed that felt ridiculous considering how lazy he always was. 

‘I’m going back to 505, if it’s a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs, and a smile…’

You ran, faster, short of breath, the music carrying you across the sand. You didn’t even realise you were trusting Yoongi completely, even as he led you past your tower, even as he kept running while the downpour broke loose, even as The Beatles came on, singing about jars by the door and lonely people, even as the morning got so dark, the sky like a purple shiner after a rowdy pub fight. 

You kept running, Yoongi panting as the two of you finally recognised the fence of his house, the tower barely visible behind the thick cover of rain and mist. “Come on!” he gasped out. 

You kept running until you were under his porch. “What the hell, Yoongi! Why didn’t we stop at the tower!?” you scolded him, barely alive, barely breathing — how had he worn you out like this? He was way less trained than you, and yet he’d managed to run by your side, keeping your pace, ending up winded, sure, but in way better a state than you’d thought he would be.

He shook his head, bent in two, his hands gripping his knees. “I was distracted! I wasn’t thinking!”

You shook your head, too busy pulling oxygen into your lungs to fight him back. After a few breathless minutes, you sat down on the first step of the staircase. “You knew it would rain. Why did you come?”

Yoongi felt called out all of a sudden. “I— I thought you were expecting me to come. I don’t have your number so I couldn’t text you. Or call you.” He sat down beside you, his hands pressed in between his knees. “I didn’t want you to worry or think I had forgotten.” He took in a large breath. Somehow the little effort of a confession required way more air than the makeshift marathon under the storm — it was definitely shorter than a marathon. Probably not even a tenth of it. He just knew that was the longest and the fastest he’d ever run, but you were running, and you were so majestic and he just wanted to be part of it. 

Yoongi paused, gathered his courage, then murmured, “I didn’t want you to feel lonely.”

You recognised the guitar strums immediately, the song changing once more. You looked at Yoongi, Hozier’s soft voice crooning at your ear. “What about you? Were you feeling lonely?”

He looked away, too shy, too old, too used-to-it to admit it. He had no right to feel lonely when you weren’t around. He had been alone for so long, but loneliness? It had been a stranger to him until he’d learnt your name. “I don’t—”

You pushed his hair off his face, your index finger casually following the handsome curve of his jawline. “Yoongi?”

He finally turned to look at you, once more innocent in the way he seemed to seduce you. He looked so pure and for the first time you felt so desperate to taint him. You needed him to look normal and mundane and you prayed for your crush to fade, for his sinless charms to be washed away so he would show his true colours, because no man should be allowed to be perfect the way he felt perfect to you. 

“Yoongi,” you whispered, your heart tied up with pining.

‘Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.’

You hadn’t realised your eyes were closed until it was too late, the lyrics making you open them only to notice Yoongi leaning towards you, his lips protruding in the most imploring pout you had ever seen. 

You were ruined. 

You tugged the earpod off, almost throwing it to the ground before hollering a ‘see you ‘round’ and running off in the cold rain. 

Yoongi, confused, afraid, sat on his porch as he watched you disappear. 

Part 2 will be out now!!

[btssoul7]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 25,000 likes!

[webshootrz]

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ˚₊𓆩 🐇 𓆪₊˚

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‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎ ﹒﹒Welcome to Ace's Blog ﹒﹒

✮ 💿 : Some things about Acey !!

Pronouns: he/him

Age: 16

Transmasc + bi

OT7 + loves koo and tete !

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ★‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎

Posts bts layouts + any layouts

I take reqs!

Posts inconsistently :p

﹒🦇﹒﹙dni list﹚﹒ transphobic ,, homophobic ,, fits basic dni criteria !

[im-an-eh-sayer]

Anyone else pop into tumblr after months of years away just to see what's going on? It's been ages since I was last on my blog😅

[koosluvss]

“Say it” - jjk fic

—“Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby..”

you always looks forward to having date night with your boyfriend Yejoon. You guys have been together for a little over and year and after him being so busy with work he finally takes you on a date. You’ve been spending most of your time with Jungkook, your best friend. Never in your whole life would you have ever thought that you’d be sitting at a table with your boyfriend while your best friends cum drips down your leg.

pairing :: bsf,jk!! + fem-oc!!

genre :: smut ‼️ (little angst if you really think about it when someone confesses 🤫)

wc :: 3.2k

warnings :: cheating oc!! lying, sorta public sex (?) confession, cursing, not choking but hand wrapped around throat, boob play, oral sex (f receiving) protected sex! (birth control), cumming inside ☺️

hello everyone! this is just a random story I wrote that I wanted to post on here. I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any ask’s please feel free to ask me!

𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•

“Jungkook for the last fucking time I am not about to ditch Yejoon just to hang out with you” I said to the phone that is sitting on the edge of my vanity as I do some finishing touches to my makeup

“Come on ____! You know you wanna see me right now” I heard him say from the other side of the phone, his smile clearly being heard in his voice. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone so that I could check if my boyfriend had texted me about our date

“I have to leave my house soon, Yejoon gonna pick me up in a bit” I said before tapping the facetime screen and seeing Jungkook look at me through the screen with a small pout on his face. “Get rid of the pout Jeon” I said and he rolled his eyes at me

“Pleasee ____? I haven’t seen you in so long” He said in his whiny tone, I shook my head at him before getting up from my vanity chair and picking up a pair of my black heels that will go with the black dress that I am wearing

“I have to go Jungkook, we can hang out some other day. Byee!” I said giving him a small wave before I hung up the call. I put on the heels that I chose out and I looked at myself through the body mirror that I have in my bathroom. As soon as I left the bathroom I heard a soft knock on my apartment door. I swung the door open and I was greeted with the sight of my boyfriend

“Hi baby” he said as a soft smile was placed upon his lips before he held out a bouquet of flowers for me. I quickly grabbed them and gave him a hug and placed a small kiss on his lips.

“I missed you” I said as my own smile started to form on my lips as I saw him look me up and down. He placed a hand on my hip before he led me out of my apartment and towards his car.

“You look so pretty tonight, I love this dress on you” I heard him say as he opened his car door for me like the gentleman he is. I quickly step in and he shuts the door when he sees that I'm in and about to buckle up. He gets into the car and starts to drive us to dinner, our car ride is filled with small talk and little giggles here and there. My eyes sparkle as I see the view of the beautiful restaurant that has a lake view behind it. Yejoon parks the car before he gets out and opens my door. He held his hand out and helped me get out before we both walked towards the restaurant. When we walk in Yejoon goes to talk to the waiter about the reservation that he’s made. Once we both get seated, I finally take in the beauty of this place. We sat next to the huge window which gives us access to the view of the lake that has the lights reflected over it.

“This place is so beautiful, Yejoon, thank you for taking me here” I said, giving him a soft smile before I looked over to the table next to us and saw another couple holding hands and looking at each other with love. Yejoon and I talk for a bit while our waiter comes up to us and gives us some wine and takes our orders before leaving us alone. I hear my phone vibrate next to me and I pick it up to look at who's texting me. ‘Jungkook- Go to the bathroom’ I look at my phone with a confused expression on my face. I excuse myself and Yejoon simply nods at me before I grab my bag and make my way to the bathroom. Once I get to the bathroom I simply stand in the hallway before I get my phone and right as I’m about to dial his number I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I jumped slightly before I turned around and was greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s warm smile

“Hi baby” he said mocking Yejoon’s voice as I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous behavior. Just as I’m about to say something to him I feel him drag me into the family bathroom. He locks the door behind himself before I turn around at stare at him

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked him as I placed my bag on the sleek marble counter, I crossed my arms before I continued to stare him down. He looks so fucking good right now, he always does. I would almost feel bad for the way I’m looking at my best friend while my boyfriend is outside waiting for me to join him at the table again. He walks toward me and leans against the counter giving me another one of his famous smiles that shout ‘you know you can’t be angry at me’

“I told you I missed you and I wanted to hang out no?” He said simply before he himself looks me up and down, I notice him briefly looking at my hips before he brings his eyes back up to mine

“Jungkook, I’m having dinner with my boyfriend right no-”

“No you’re not because I'm standing right here and I wasn’t at the table with you” he says, cutting me off. I feel my cheeks turn red as he says that and I look down at the floor. His finger hooks under my chin before he leans my head back up so I’m still looking at him. “What’s wrong? Got my baby all flustered for me?” I heard him say before giving me a slight smirk

“Why are you here?” I said pushing on his chest gently so that there could be some space in between both of our bodies. I see him tilt his head at me and a fake ass pout sat on top of his pretty pink lips that are decorated with two silver hoops on his lower lip

“Are you saying you didn’t miss me at all?” he says, stepping closer towards me so that the space between us is closed. Clearly not liking the distance between us

“No I didn’t, I was with Yejoon. Why would I think of you?” I say and I see him eyeing my lips before they make there way back up to my eyes

“That’s a shame because while you’re over here enjoying your night with your boyfriend I’m over here dying. You take up all my headspace, I was thinking about what you were wearing, what you would get, where he is going to take you, and why you are with such a shame of a man and not with me.” I heard him say while I felt his hand gently caress my cheek

“Jungkook, what?” I said with confusion written all over my face

“____ baby, you can’t possibly think that you should settle for him” he said while he looked in my eyes as he only saw pure confusion in them, “Wow you really are dumb”

“Excuse me?” I said before I felt his hand drop from my cheek to my hip. I know it’s wrong and I should probably tell him to stop and get his hands off me but at the moment everything just felt right. His hands on me and both of our bodies pressed together just felt right. I felt his breath gently brush against my lips and I just felt like melting in his hold. His hand grabbed mine and he placed it on top of his chest just enough so that I could feel the faint feeling of his heart beat.

“You feel this ____? This is because of you, I'm only for you. You have me whipped for you and I just have to sit back and watch as you blindly fall in love with this asshole. It hurts me because I have to see you fall in love with someone who isn’t me. I beg you to be by my side so often because it just feels so complete to me, you complete me” He said softly as I felt his heart beat on the palm of my hand quicken. I look at him in shock as he looks down at me with his soft brown eyes filled with pure emotion. “So please ____, choose me. Let me be the man who shows you love and affection. I’m sick of having to tell myself I can’t have you because I know I can and I will” He says, his hand lets go of mine and I feel him brush some hair out of my face.

“Jungkook, I can’t, and you know it too I love him” I said softly as I felt my heart ache as I heard his confession

“No you don’t” He simply says to me before he cups my face in his hands gently. “You can love me and you do it’s just you don’t want to tell yourself that”

“Jungkook, I love him” I said as I felt some tears fill my eyes. My own mind is filled with confusion as I keep thinking if I really see myself with Yejoon. As I think of him Jungkook is the only name thats pops up in my head

“If you truly loved him you wouldn’t let your bestfriend hold you and confess his love to you huh?” He said as I felt his face inch closer to me. He had me stuck, I didn’t know what to say. It was like I’m intoxicated with him. I feel his lips touch mine and that's all it took until my mind is completely made. I love my best friend, I always have. His hands dropped from my face down to holding my hips and my own arms snake up to wrap around his neck. I felt him let out a slight smile against my lips before he picked me up. My legs wrapped around his waist as I felt him place me on top of the marble counter, our kiss never breaking. His lips found their way down to my jawline then slowly trailed down to my neck, his hot breath hitting my neck felt like heaven to me

“Fuck kook” I breathed out as I felt him gently suck the sensative skin behind my ear. His hand trailed their way down from my hips so that they are now resting on both of my thighs. His fingers hook onto the bottom of my dress before he looks up at me to see if I was okay with him doing this. I let out a slow nod then I felt him lift my dress up enough so that my lacy panties were exposed to his eyes. He went on his knees before placing gentle kisses on the insides of my thighs causing me to bite my lip gently, I watched as he slowly made his way up to my covered pussy, my wetness was starting to leak out through the thin material of my panties. Jungkook let out a soft smile before he placed a soft kiss over my covered heat

“So wet for me hm?” He said softly against me before his finger moved my panties to the side so that he had full access to me. I felt him press a soft kiss against my clit which caused a soft moan to escape from my lips. His tongue dipped into my folds and I felt him suck my clit teasingly then letting his tongue fuck my pussy. My hands find their way to his head, I let my fingers get tangled in his hair before I bite my lip and I try to maintain my moans so that they are quiet enough not to be heard outside of the bathroom door. My head falls back as I feel Jungkook’s tongue lap in my pussy. I always knew Jungkook had a past of being so good at sex that he had girls begging and crying for him to come back to them, each and everyone getting rejected. I had even thought of what it would feel like to fuck him or even just have him eat me out. All those thoughts went away once I started to date Yejoon. (sort of)

Jungkook pulled away from my pussy, his chin glistening with my wetness and he smiled at me before he stood up. “Get off the counter, I’ve been waiting so long to be able to fuck you” He said as I jumped off the counter before he turned me around and fully took off my panties letting them fall to the floor. He lifts up my dress higher so that it wouldn’t get in our way. I feel him take his belt and black jeans off before I could feel the clear outline of his hard cock rubbing against my ass. “Shit, I don’t have any protection” He said from behind me

“We don’t need it, I'm on the pill” I said and looked at him through the mirror, a slick smirk placed upon his lips before I heard him take his boxers off. His hand held my waist while the other held his cock and aligned it with my entrance

“Baby if you ever want to stop just let me know, you’re in control” I heard him say while making eye contact with me through the mirror. He gave me a soft smile then he pushed his cock inside of me

“Oh shit” I moaned out once I felt him fully enter me. He lets out a soft groan while his grip on my hips tightens. My mouth fell open in ecstasy once I felt him thrust into me, it felt as if I was being brought into heaven

“Fuck ____, you’re so tight” He said while his head got thrown back as he continued to thrust into me at a erotic pace. I felt him bring the top of my dress down a little, enough so that my boobs spill out, Jungkook quickly grabbed one of my breasts and played with it in his tattooed hand. Quiet moans escaped my lips as He continued to fuck himself into me. His free hand wrapped around my throat before he pulled my body up so that I’m looking into the mirror. I could almost cum at the sight of him fucking himself into my pussy, his long fingers grabbing and playing with the sensitive skin of my breasts. “Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby” He said before I felt his grip slightly tighten around my throat. I try to form a sentence but the only thoughts that come into my head are about how good he’s making me feel. I hear him chuckle in my ear with his deep sexy voice, his lips place soft kisses on my shoulder and up to my neck. “Awe, look at how pretty you look struggling to answer me, getting all brain dead while getting fucked with my dick” He said in my ear before he let go of my neck and let his hand fall down to my clit as he began to rub it slowly. “I want you to look at yourself while you cum for me hm?” I nodded at him before my back arched against his back, a louder moan escaped my lips as I felt a knot in my stomach form.

“Kook, im gonna-” I tried to warm him but I just couldn’t, I looked at myself and saw my face all sweaty and my cheeks a bright red color

“Cum baby, I wanna feel you cum around my dick” He said before letting out another soft groan as he continued to rub my clit. I do exactly as he says. After a few thrusts I come undone while he continues to thrust into me. My mouth fell open and my head fell back so that it was resting on his shoulder. Not so long after I felt his thrusts grow sloppy and he came inside of me. Once he pulled out he turned me around and placed a loving kiss to my lips. “God, I love you so much” He whispered against my lips before he helped me clean myself up

“Jungkook,” I said softly as I watched him put his clothes back on after he helped me fix myself so that Yejoon wouldn’t know anything about what just happened. He looked up at me, his soft eyes meeting mine again as he finished buckling his belt. “I love you, I don’t want this to end” I said and he smiled at me before walking towards me putting some hair behind my ear while placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“You think I’d just quit on you after I confessed to you? Hell no” He said before letting out a light laugh looking at me with admiration in his eyes. “We can talk about us when you go home later okay baby?” He said pulling away from me, I quickly nodded at him before I saw him exit the bathroom door. I felt a little piece of me disappear as I saw him walk away from me. I look at the mirror and quickly fix some of my makeup before I walk out to Yejoon again.

“Hey there you are! I thought you ran away from me” He says chuckling at me as he takes a bite of his steak. Damn we took so long that the food already came. I sat down in my chair and gave him a fake smile placing my bag down next to me

“Sorry my aunt was going through something and I needed to help her through it” I said laughing awkwardly before I took a bite out of my now cold food. I heard my phone ding, I picked it up and saw a notification from Jungkook. ‘Jungkook- Now that I think about it, you never answered me when I asked if we looked good together. Now I wanna hear you say it.’ I looked up and saw Jungkook standing near the exit looking down at his phone with a small smirk. I ignored his text and took another bite of my food. Ding. I let out a scoff before I opened my phone again and saw another text from him. ‘Jungkook- Don’t ignore me. Say it.’ I giggled quietly to his text before I typed back, ‘- Don’t be an idiot, of course we look amazing together.’ I typed back and I turned off my phone before I saw Yejoon looking at me

“Was that your aunt?” He asked

“Yeah she was just telling me some funny story of my uncle, I’ll tell you later” I said before taking another bite of my food

“I love you ____, you’re such a perfect woman I don’t know what I would do without you” he said smiling at me brightly

“Me too baby” I said, forcing another smile at him as I felt Jungkook's cum slowly make its way down my leg. “So much”

𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•

Okay guys thank you so much for reading. This was my first time writing smut so I really hope that I did okay 😓 like I’ve said before thank you so much for reading and I’ll post again soon!

- koosluvss

I

[angellcherry]

— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.

[fukutomichi]

Inside The Rings of Power S2, E6 | The Lord of The Rings: The Rings of Power

[btsjk-biased]

Yoongi 🩶 Love Yourself: Tear (for @yooboobies)

[ video source cr. namuspromised ]

[uyuforu]

How to know where your Future Spouse was born with Astrology

Quick little story time to introduce this post: I was scrolling on instagram and suddenly I saw a reel about astrology. The astrologist on the reel was explaining how it was possible to see with the 10H where your Future Spouse was born/ come from, and explained in the reel. I'll give credits of course. But people in her comments seem to be confused still and she wasn't replying much. I thought of making a post about it and making it more clear! It is indeed a very interesting theory. In the reel she took the example of Angelina Jolie.

Credits of the theory goes to v.josa on Instagram.

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ How to know when you will marry

જ⁀➴ Planets and their Rulers

જ⁀➴ Juno, Groom, Briede in Signs, Houses, Degrees

Book a private reading: menus ; Q&A ; rules ; instagram

Buy me a Kofi •ᴗ•

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Why the 10H?

ꕥ The 7H in astrology represents the Future Spouse. And in Numerology, the number 4 represents the home, foundation, productivity and sometimes wealth.

ꕥ So if we count from the 7H until the 10H, we find a gap of 4. So in this theory, the 10H will so represent where the Future Spouse of the native was born.

ꕥ This technique is to be used on Natal Charts only. I will explain the technique used in order for you to understand better. This technique is to be used to guess the country but also the key words of the city they were born in.

ꕥ This technique doesn't say where your FS lives right now! It is only a way to found out where your FS comes from.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ The Technique

ʚïɞ In your 10H/MC, you will need to check the sign it is in. You will also check the degree of the house, but also the ruler, and what planets are in the 10H. We are only going to check planets! Sun to Pluto only!

ʚïɞ For the Ruler of your 10H, you will need to check where it is in your chart and under what sign.

ʚïɞ For the planets inside, it will tell us what kind of country and place your FS was born in. I'll give all the key words after the examples. For the planets, we will use the ones that are the closest to your MC! So if you have any planets that exactly conjuncts your MC it's perfect! Otherwise, just take the closest. The closest planets to take will need to be 10° apart maximum from the line of the MC!

ʚïɞ Unfortunately it is very hard to explain this technique just like that, so I will use different examples down below for you to understand better. I want to also add that everything is more about describing where your FS was born, and so everything will work with key words!

ʚïɞ Example: My MC is Cancer 23°. I will look at Cancer/ Moon keywords, Aquarius too because of the degree. I have Leo Sun and Cancer Mercury in 10H, so I'll look at Mercury & Leo/ Sun too.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Examples

ꕥ In the astrologer's example, she uses Angelina Jolie who has Aries MC in 17°. In her 10H, the planets closest to her MC are Jupiter (exactly conjunct her MC at 17° both) and Mars, which happens to be in the 9H. Aries MC is so ruled by Mars and the 17° is a Leo degree. She explains that Angelina's spouse would be born in a place related to royalty, fights could have happened there, and it can be a very known place too. Jupiter and the 9H (because Aries being ruled by Mars happens to be in the 9H) are both related to traveling, so many people could travel there, it's a very touristic place. Moreover, it can so mean marrying a foreigner. Her first husband, Jonny Lee Miller, was born in England, in a city named Kingston upon Thames. The country is indeed related to royalty and is very famous, but also the city. Originally, the city had another name which translated to "The King's Estate/ Manor". Jupiter is indeed a planet about optimism, success, luck, and generosity but it's also about abundance. Kingston upon Thames makes sense in this case, as it is the King's possession, abundance. Mars could also be so related to a man, it's also a planet about masculinity. The King marking his territory in this case, by calling this city "his" (happened a lot at that time) makes great sense.

ꕥ Jungkook has Libra MC 27°, ruled by Venus. In the 10H, he has Mars in it. But the planet which is the closest is Venus which is in his 9H. Jungkook's FS was born in a place that is related to femininity, anything related to beauty, art, beauty of the soul, sensuality, music, dancing, marriage too could be important in this culture, beauty, fashion, luxury too. The 27° could be related to a certain language, so this could be a place where people speak many different languages and have many different cultures. Many people could live there, and there could be a lot of moments in general. MC's ruler being in the 9H makes a lot more sense as to the fact his FS is a foreigner. Mars here could mean the place they were born in is full of movement, it could be a very active place, so perhaps his FS was born in a capital. Because of the Libra and Venus influence, his FS could be born in a place known for beauty, the way women dress, they way they do their make up, they way they move or act sensual, they could be from a country women are considered goddesses for example, or a place where there could be a lot of jewels for example, or a certain make up style, etc.

ꕥ My sister has Capricorn MC 10°, ruled by Saturn. In the 10H, she doesn't have much as planets, only asteroids. Otherwise, the Sun is very close to the MC and they actually conjunct each other. It seems like my sister's FS will be from a place people work hard, they can come from a wealthy place, a place people have a lot of belongings, though corruption can happen. They can come from a place where people are introvert, don't go talk to people, and they can come from a capital kind of city, big city, etc. An old country too. With the Sun being closed to the MC, the FS can come from a latin country, royalty, a place that is very popular, very visited, almost overrated. Since the ruler is Saturn, we need to look where it falls in her chart, and it falls in 4H in Cancer! And, as I was sure, they def come from the same country. FS comes from a country where traditions are important, and food may be part of it. FS could also come from a place near water, or the ocean, he could also come from the same city as her, or has been close to her this whole time, despite not knowing each other.

ꕥ In my case, I have Cancer MC 23°, ruled by Moon and Mercury being very closed to the MC. Indeed, my FS may not come from the same country as me, but the country he is from has a big interest in my country. His country is also known for being very traditional, and very close to their culture, they also are very into food and mostly their food, they hold a big pride into that. The 23° makes a lot of sense because he comes from a country that is known for being a futuristic place, a technology advanced kind of country, and with Mercury being close to the MC, they indeed have a very good and modernized transportation system. Oh and Cancer here could mean at some point I could have lived where he was born, because indeed that's what happened. This country also has a big idea about family and children in general (very traditional). The country isn't new but it's a recent touristic place, many people wanna go there now. Also it's a place where people are very into studying too. And I also wanna add, that the exact city he was born in is actually a place that is focused on new technology researches lmao. The MC is ruled by Moon, and my Moon is in my 8H in Gemini. I'll focus more on the 8H placement, indeed the country was hidden before, not very noticed until recently, and mostly it was a country that got a rebirth of some sort after war.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Key words and Help

ʚïɞ Aries/ 1H/ 1°,13°, 25°/ Mars

Warm, Summer, Hot, Wars, Fights, Battles, Revolutions, Leadership, Dictatorship, New Country, A lot of people, A lot of things going on, a place with a lot of energies, a lot of movement, a place that can be tiring emotionally, draining, angry people, people who are prideful, passionate people, aggressive people, Latin origin country or place, people who speak a lot with their body, s3x, kissing, people have a reputation for being physical, fast things, things changing fast in that place, arguments, people speaking loudly, strikes, bold, courageous people, the people revolting themselves in the past against the oppression or against a leader, men, kings, emperors, masculine energy, etc.

ʚïɞ Taurus/ 2H/ 2°, 14°, 26°/ Venus

Nature, calm, chill people, pretty people, a country or place with beautiful sights, a country or place known for their beautiful people, food, delicious food, culture is a lot going on with food, pastries, desserts, traditional people, wealthy country, a luxurious and expensive place, country can be expensive too, celebrities living there, hiking, a lot of parks, people speaking a language that is considered beautiful, skin care, people having beauty secrets, people being healthy, in good shape, culture also can be related to beauty and make up, clothing too, old country, Queens, Empresses, women being embodied as Goddesses, flirts, poetry, art, a country known for their arts, museums, a lot of artists, or a lot of artist come to study there, people known for enjoying life, etc.

ʚïɞ Gemini/ 3H/ 3°, 15°, 27°/ Mercury

Transport, a lot of different transport or new transport, a lot of cars, or just a country known for their good transport system, school and education system is very important there, a good education system, country or place is known for school or having smart people, funny people, open minded people, Muti-cultural place, people from different places coming to live here, curious people, gossips, obsessive fans, a lot of stalkers, paparazzis, social medias, people obsessed with social medias, a country known for they advanced technologies, people obsessed with their phone, people who talk loud, people talk more than 2 languages, people know for their books, literature, bookstores, a windy place, a new country, etc.

ʚïɞ Cancer/ 4H/ 4°, 16°, 28°/ Moon

A traditional place, ocean, sea, beach, water, fishes, a lot of fish based food, a country where food is part of their culture, delicious food, a place or country closed to their tradition, an old country, feminine energy, women, goddess, Mother Nature, mothers, pregnancies, babies, giving birth, nurturing, people can be nurturing there, people can seem innocent in this place, introvert people, shy people, very welcoming and warm people, faith, religion, the idea of home & family being important there, someone who speaks the same language as you or live in the same place/ country/ states as you, etc.

ʚïɞ Leo/ 5H/ 5°, 17°, 29°/ Sun

Warm, Summer, Hot, Popular, Royalty, Revolutions, Fame, Celebrities, famous place, a country which is very popular, capitals, big cities, luxurious place, expensive place, rich people, beautiful homes, a lot of historical places, huge monuments, huge buildings, art, creativity, artists, actors/ actresses, movie making, acting, a place known for multiple movies being made there, big movies studios there, movie festivals, boats, yacht, a place that is overrated, very crowdy place, parties, clubs, bars, concerts, living the life of the party, the city that never sleeps, beautiful hair, country known for their hair beauty secrets, etc.

ʚïɞ Virgo/ 6H/ 6°, 18°/ Mercury

Well organized country, a cold country, a cold place, people are distant, people are shy, people work hard, the working time is bigger in this place, detailed oriented people, a neat place, country likes to keep things neat, transportation, a lot of different transport or new transport, a lot of cars, or just a country known for their good transport system, school and education system is very important there, a good education system, country or place is known for school or having smart people, serious people, good health system, country wants their people to be healthy, country known for their healthcare, country known for having a lot of animals, country known for their good healthy food, place known for sport events, place where people have a lot of pets, hospitals, etc.

ʚïɞ Libra/ 7H/ 7°, 19°/ Venus

A country or place with beautiful sights, a country or place known for their beautiful people, wealthy country, a luxurious and expensive place, country can be expensive too, celebrities living there, people speaking a language that is considered beautiful, skin care, people having beauty secrets, people being healthy, in good shape, culture also can be related to beauty and make up, clothing too, old country, Queens, Empresses, women being embodied as Goddesses, flirts, poetry, art, a country known for their arts, museums, a lot of artists, or a lot of artist come to study there, fashion can be very important there, a lot of designers living there, fashion city, surgery, a country specialized in surgeries, people always dressing up well, superficial people, charming people, people being known for their charm, etc.

ʚïɞ Scorpio/ 8H/ 8°, 20°/ Pluto

Wars, Fights, Battles, Revolutions, Leadership, Dictatorship, the people revolting themselves in the past against the oppression or against a leader, night, the city that never sleeps, place where people live more at nights, clubs, bars, s3x, drugs, alcohol, spirituality, occult, scary, death, a culture that is comfortable with the idea of death, a culture that celebrates the dead, being closed to their ancestors, a country that got a "rebirth", a country that "died" and got back, wealthy, corruption, danger, being hidden, slow, people there respecting the old generation, shy people, introvert people, people seem scary or mean, etc.

ʚïɞ Sagittarius/ 9H/ 9°, 21°/ Jupiter

Foreign lands, a country far from where you live, a place where a lot of tourists fly there, airports, a touristic place, a place where many people take another flight, open-minded people, people being spontaneous, people being chill, religion, spirituality, people being close to their religion, religion being part of the culture, faith, multi-cultural place, a famous country, a famous place, wealthy place, a country or place known for their educational system, a place with a big university, known university, a place where a lot of people valued higher studies, a place where it's normalized to study for higher educational system, curious people, wisdom, mature people, etc.

ʚïɞ Capricorn/ 10H/ 10°, 22°/ Saturn

Well organized country, a cold country, a cold place, people are distant, people are shy, people work hard, the working time is bigger in this place, detailed oriented people, school and education system is very important there, a good education system, country or place is known for school or having smart people, serious people, people being closed to their ancestors, wealthy, corruption, banks, materialistic people, high buildings, a place known for their banks or economy, a country not doing good with their mental health awareness, slow, people there respecting the old generation, shy people, introvert people, people seem scary or mean, traditional, introvert people, men, masculine energy, kings, emperors, royalty, an old country, etc.

ʚïɞ Aquarius/ 11H/ 11°, 23°/ Uranus

Transport, a lot of different transport or new transport, a lot of cars, or just a country known for their good transport system, having smart people, funny people, open minded people, Muti-cultural place, people from different places coming to live here, curious people, social medias, people obsessed with social medias, a country known for they advanced technologies, people obsessed with their phone, airports, tourism, high places, high buildings, high divorce rates country, communities, new technologies, futuristic country, a new country, people talk more than 2 languages, Foreign lands, a country far from where you live, a place where a lot of tourists fly there, a place where many people take another flight, open-minded people, people being spontaneous, people being chill, a place many dreams of coming, a place known for dreams coming true, etc.

ʚïɞ Pisces/ 12H/ 12°, 24°/ Neptune

Artistic place, art, creativity, artists, flirts, poetry, art, a country known for their arts, museums, a lot of artists, or a lot of artist come to study there, esotericism, occult, spirituality, drugs, alcohol, hidden, shy people, introvert people, a place many dreams of coming, a place known for dreams coming true, ocean, sea, beach, water, fishes, a lot of fish based food, yacht, boats, sailing, fishermen, country or place with a lot of legends, good health system, country wants their people to be healthy, country known for their healthcare, mental health awareness, a country many people have illusions about, a country many people forget exists, a country over consumed by tourism, legal drugs, etc.

Thank you for reading!

back to index ; ask ; request ; rules ; instagram

[oumoumimi]

⁘Jungkook⁘ ↳ G.C.F in Budapest [11/20/2023]

[oftenderweapons]

London Calling | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen

Wordcount: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff, smut, pwp, established relationship!AU, idol!Au, Married!AU

Rating: 18+; minors, please do not interact

Synopsis: Vixen has decided to distract herself from Namjoon's incumbent enlistment by focusing on her job. She has accepted adding more international works to her portfolio and is currently in London; too bad Namjoon can't help but post risqué pictures on his Instagram, and it really seems he's doing so to try and get her attention.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Swearing, Fear of infidelity, Nostalgia. Extremely mild DDLG dynamics, Babygirl!Vixen, Brat!Vixen, Phone sex, Masturbation, Dirty talking. Mentions of: Oral sex (both male and female receiving), Lingerie kink, Sex toys, Spanking. Oh, and one of Joon's friends simps for Vixen.

As usual, you can find my masterlist right here! I wouldn't mind if you took a few seconds to leave a comment or reblog my fic 🥰 Also, my requests are always open!!!

Enjoy 💜✨

“Been hearing someone’s on their worst behaviour.”

Namjoon’s chuckle on the opposite end of the line is everything you need to know. “What can I say, my last moral anchor is busy girlbossing around the world.” He licks his lips and sits down on the sofa, his friends messing around his kitchen, beers and liquors spread around your marble counter. “I’m missing my lucky star.”

“Your guardian angel.”

“My only angel,” he flirts. 

The game is back on between you and Namjoon. Ever since you decided to stop waiting around for his enlistment and have started accepting international projects on your portfolio, it’s like no matter where either of you are, it’s always time to flirt on the phone. 

Or mess around even more. 

He’s touched down in London for you about two weeks ago, showing up at your hotel room with an Agent Provocateur bag dangling from his pretty fingers and the kind of smile that always gets you shimmying out of your panties. 

“What are you up to, love? What time is it over there?”

“Uh-huh. I’m the one doing the asking here, mister.” 

He puts his glass back on the coffee table, and leans over with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just trying to feed my imagination, little fox. What’s a boy to do, with an empty bed and a sexy wife on the other side of the world?”

“I don’t know, maybe be more careful before talking talks he can’t walk?” you suggest. 

He lowers his voice before saying, “You’d be over my knee right now, you know?”

You decide to talk back, just to mess him up further. Your voice is like midnight fog when you tell him, “you’d have to catch me first.”

He steals a glance towards the kitchen. This feels an awful lot like when the two of you began hanging out — the secrecy, the craving, the distance, and the pining. Except this time you have rings on your hands and there’s no doubting loyalty, not on his nor your behalf. 

He toys with his own ring, tracing it with his thumb, twisting it a little to the left, then to the right, back and forth. 

“It seems you appreciated that quick leak…” 

You click your tongue. “One of these days you’re gonna end up naked in those pics and I’ll have to come home to do damage control.”

“Is that all it takes to have you back home? I miss my territorial little vixen.” He stares at your stash of books in the bookshelf, standing tall right next to his, but looking twice more put together. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been acting sluttier lately.”

“At least I haven’t gone entirely shirtless yet.” He picks up the glass again and you hear him swallowing through the line. “Unlike some of my friends. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky, you say?” 

He hears the sound of a glass being put down. “Are you drinking, babygirl?”

You cock an eyebrow and stare at your glass of red wine. “I’m dined and wined. You know which bit is missing. But it seems you’re not that deserving.”

“What did you eat?” He doesn’t grant you the courtesy of winning this sensual verbal sparring. That tiny comment about being dined and wined was a trap, he can tell. Looking so casual and half-hearted can only mean you expected him to go there, and if he does, he’ll probably end up right where you wanted him. 

He can do better. 

“I had a steak. With a lovely truffle cream. I’ll have to make it for you next time you’re around.” Your reply comes off beat, and he smiles, happy that he caught you off guard. 

If this were a match of martial arts, you’d be dwindling a little, your balance compromised. “I’d love to. Miss your tiramisu. Your cheesecake. Your aglio e olio. Your sweet little ass working around the kitchen.”

You laugh, the sound as bright and heartstopping as ever. Blood rushes to his cheeks. He loves making you laugh. “You got the guys over, I assume? Four in the morning?”

“We just finished working. Like maybe an hour ago or so.” He can’t keep calm anymore. Everytime you call him when he’s home, his gaze keeps wandering to every piece of it that belongs to you. 

Sometimes it’s suffocating. Sometimes he sleeps back at the studio. Sometimes he stays over at other people’s places. 

Now it’s the portrait of your orchids that you had commissioned for him. It sits next to his bonsais, so he can think of your collection each time he’s watering his own. 

Sometimes he wonders who is whose subtext, because at times he thinks you’re the one who picked up habits from him, other times he thinks it’s him who accidentally got into certain hobbies through the years so he could be your exact shadow once the two of you finally met and aligned. 

“Also, you’re calling at four in the morning,” he observes. “Oh…” He rubs the back of his head, then plops back on the sofa, as if he were deflating slowly. “Right. I’m your booty call.” He chuckles. “Almost forgot.”

“I can find someone else in a more suitable time zone, if that sits well with you,” you reply, your tone just a tiny bit annoyed. His nonchalance irks you just a little. 

“That your sneaky link, man?” you hear someone holler on his side. 

“So now I’m miss sneaky link, huh? Not bad, mister booty call.” You click your tongue. “I’ll leave you to your friends. I thought you were alone, didn’t mean to disturb.” This could be your chance to win this match. 

“No, don’t go because they’re about to. Kind of right now,” he says, looking towards the kitchen and nodding towards the door. “Sorry guys. Vixen’s rule.”

“He don’t deserve you, honey,” one of his friends calls. “Just one chance, miss. Kindly.”

“We’re literally married,” he tells the guy, then to you, “Bum says hi.”

“Oh, hi sweetie. What are your thoughts on the London timezone?” you ask, coquettishly.

“Careful, fox.” Namjoon’s voice is stern when it comes on. It makes you sit taller on your seat, redirecting the pressure in between your thighs. “And you’d better not reply, Bum.”

The guy stares at Namjoon as he says. “For you, anything, my queen. Though, from personal experience, it’s excellent for your late nights and our early mornings. If you know you know,” Bum suggests. 

Namjoon slaps the guy’s back with the most sarcastic smile on his face. “Time to go, dude.” 

“Starcrossed lovers, that’s our fate, my queen.”

You laugh loudly and Namjoon is a little annoyed. “All the great loves are those that never happened, Bum.”

“Guys, I’m literally right here!?” Namjoon says, embarrassed and just a tad annoyed. “You, get out of my house. And stop trying to seduce my wife.”

“Bum, can you keep an eye on him? Kinda worried I might not be the only sneaky link of his.” You joke about it, but deep down, there’s always a sliver of worry in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his friends were encouraging him to be unloyal to you just because you decided to push forward with your career. 

“He’s too busy panting for you to even begin thinking about someone else.” Bum’s putting on his shoes by the door, hushered by Namjoon. His three other friends are similarly getting dressed, laughing at the exchange. 

“Literally, Vixen—”

Namjoon looks like he’s baring his teeth at Bum using his nickname for you. 

“He’s whipped. We keep him in check, but it’s like guarding a leashed little puppy.”

You giggle, sweet and endeared. “Good. That’s the way I like him.” You lick your lips. “Make sure he doesn’t bare his ass on Instagram.”

“So you’re falling for his little thirst traps?” Bum’s laugh booms in the room and Namjoon wacks him on the head, worried about the neighbours. Also, he doesn’t like admitting that when he posts, he’s thinking about the way you would react when seeing him. 

“You know how I am, Bum. I’m always falling for him,” you confess, cheesy and utterly honest at the same time.

Namjoon smiles like the cat who got the cream. “That’s sweet, babygirl. The guys are leaving now. Bye guys,” he says quickly, finally kicking them out. 

You try to say bye in return, but you hear the door close and Namjoon is immediately all over you. “Always falling for me, huh?” He heads back towards the sofa. “That’s new.”

“That’s actually so, so old.” You roll your eyes but smile through it anyways. 

“You’re my only sneaky link, Vixen. Still got your claw marks all over my back, by the way. Lovely touch.”

“Gotta mark my territory,” you state matter-of-factly.

“Wanna switch this over to a video call?” he suggests, already undoing the first button of his shirt.

“Just so I can be reminded I’m not over there fucking you right?” You snort bitterly. “No way.”

“We could make this our own personal porno,” he suggests, grateful that his trousers are baggy enough to give him extra space around the crotch. “Just a little visual aid.”

“You’re telling me you don’t remember how I rode you last time?” You undo the little bow at the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fingertips tiptoeing around the elastic of your panties. 

“Let’s say I wouldn’t mind having a bit more than a memory to hold on to.” As if telepathically connected, he’s also undoing the button and zip of his denim cargos. 

“Fair. You usually hold on to my hips while I fuck you.”

He hisses, head thrown back. “And you hold on to my throat when I’ve been an exceptionally good boy.” 

A shiver screeches down your torso, then spreads through your midriff and settles somewhere at the small of your back, as if recalling the phantom touch of his hand, of his thumbs imprinting themselves in the twin dimples at the base of your spine. He likes resting his fingers there when he’s taking you from behind. It’s like the little dips were designed for his digits to rest there. 

“You’re such a lucky little fucker,” you tease him and he one-ups you, 

“I fucking am, but last time I checked you usually sort of profit from it.” 

Your sultry laugh is his favourite form of payment — right now he’s richer than he’s ever been. 

“Are your hands free, love?”

You let him hang there for a couple long seconds, your breathing heavy. “They’d be freer if you were here,” you tell him. “Maybe not.”

“They’d be all over me, and you know it, little fox.” He purrs as his hand finds a good spot. He’s not yet actually touching himself, but he’s definitely teasing. “Got on a fucking plane for those hands.”

“You flew for twelve hours for these hands.”

“And for that ass,” he adds, quick-witted. 

Your laugh is more of a snort. “And that too.”

His zipper is undone, he dips his hand under the waistband of his briefs, shifting it downwards. “For that smart mouth of yours,” he whispers. “Just to kiss it for a bunch of hours.”

“It was very grateful,” you remind him, trying to bluff the fact that your middle finger is now circling your clitoris. 

“I remember that.” His heartbeat is starting to accelerate. “I had to stop it from being a little bit too grateful.” He remembers the silky feeling of your hair in between his fingers, the tension in your hand on his thigh as you tried to take more of him. “My birthday girl,” he hums. “And yet, I was the lucky bastard who got presents.” The sight of you in that powder pink corset, with the delicate ruffles, and the feather trims tracing the top of your breasts, palpitating with every single excited breath you took. 

It had been like seeing a map of your arousal, goosebumps rising on any inch of skin he had dared lay his eyes on. 

“You were so responsive,” he whispered. “You were so fucking wet.”

“You teased me for almost an hour,” you object.

“I’ll have to make it two hours next time then.” He’s throbbing in his own palm, circling his tip, hissing when he hits a too-sensitive spot. “Maybe with the tickler still.”

“It was delightful, I will admit that.” You’re leaning on your hand now, cupped between your thighs. “Wish your face was between my legs.”

“Wish you were sitting on it, baby.” He bites his lip, as if he could recall the feel, the taste of you on his mouth. “Can’t believe it’s been two weeks already.”

“I can’t wait to be home,” you moan.

He can tell you’re touching yourself, from your ragged breathing, and from the way your voice has become more vulnerable, and more impatient too. “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule when you do. We can do that ‘seven days a week’ type of shit.”

You moan and he laughs to himself. 

“Are you gonna come for me, my love?” he asks fondly, his voice like a dark caress. “Are you thinking about my mouth fucking you? About my tongue stroking you, feeling how wet and warm and sweet you are?”

“Joon, please,” you beg, a desperate little laugh.

“No need to beg, babygirl. You can have everything you want when you’re with me,” he continues, with his calm, direct voice. “You can take it, love. You can have me deep inside you, and you can suck on my fingers if you’re struggling to keep your voice down.” He’s quickened his own pace, trying to climb as fast as you do. “Or you can be loud, and tell the neighbours who’s making you feel this good.”

“When I get home I want you to mess me up for days. You’re gonna mark me, and make love to me and fuck me and feed me. You’re gonna cuddle me to sleep, then wake me up with your hand between my legs.”

You’re holding your breath as you speak, your high approaching like an incumbent, massive wave. 

“I promise, love.”

“Are you coming too?” you ask, and he hums simply. 

“I’m close.”

“I want you to fuck me while I sit on your lap.”

“On the sofa?”

“On the sofa, on the floor, in bed, I don’t care.” You gasp, then chuckle as you hit an indecently good angle with your fingers. “I want to hold you as we make love.”

“You will, baby.”

“I wanna whisper in your ear that you’re my one and only. That you’re the only one in the whole world who can get me this good.” 

He loves when you get emotional during sex. He loves when you start to ramble and you tell him all those things you usually keep to yourself. “I can’t wait either. I miss you in bed. I miss you at every meal, I miss going to our galleries. I miss every fucking thing.” He’s getting desperate. “And most of all, I miss those eyes on me.”

“I’m coming,” you gasp, out of the blue, the idea of sitting on his lap, naked, making love to him, your mouth clamped around the crook of his shoulder to keep quiet, his hands tracing your back, his eyes looking for yours, for confirmation, for loyalty, for reassurance, for companionship. 

“That’s my darling.” He can let go now, and he fucks his hand with intention, with neat powerful jerks. He helps himself with strong thrusts of his pelvis, and precise tugs of his hand too. He grunts when he hears your sweet whimpers on your side of the call, and finally he follows you into pleasure, with the image of your head thrown back, your plump lips agape, your hair tumbling wild behind you as you bounce on him. 

He can almost feel the aftertaste of your perspiration on the tip of his tongue. 

“Wow,” you say as soon as you manage to recollect yourself. 

He’s still sort of numb, his orgasm spilled on his stomach and happy trail. Just a glimpse down and he’s already envisioned the phantom of you studying his semen, lowering yourself to his navel and tracing it with your digit, only to bring it to your mouth to have a taste. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. 

“Damn, I wanna cuddle the fuck out of you and you’re too far away.” He reaches for a tissue to clean himself quickly. “I guess that’s why we don’t do this more often. I miss the aftercare.” He pulls himself back in his briefs, then blocks his phone between his shoulder and ear and stands to get rid of the tissue. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Hunting for chocolate.”

“Oh, baby…” He giggles, endeared. “Should I order something for you?”

“No… it’s okay.” You’re a little bit sad, but you try your best not to let it show.”

“Not even those glass beads you’d seen on our favourite website?”

You widen your eyes. “Let’s not make say things we don’t mean now...”

Namjoon laughs fondly. “Thought so.” He waits a little. “We can just talk, by the way. Or you can go grab a toy and we can keep going with this. We could discuss in great details what you intend to do to me once you’re back.”

“We could do that. Or we could video call and you could watch me hump this little thing you got me.”

He grins. “Then let me get comfy. We’ve got quite the night coming up.”

You smile. “We do.”

He hesitates. “We don’t have to, you know? If you don’t want to video call. I’m okay with just hearing you.”

You pause. Your love for him multiplies exponentially in your chest. “Sure we don’t have to. But I want to.”

Namjoon smiles. “Okay.”

“Get comfy, lucky boy,” you tease him.

“I’ll be right there.”

It’s almost six in the morning when you fall asleep. He’s propped the phone right beside him on the pillow and though he’s found himself dropping it a couple times, he’s refused to let go until he was sure you were asleep. 

Now he closes the video call and locks his phone, putting it back on the nightstand. He pulls your pillow close, hugging it to his chest, then throws a leg on top of it. He places another pillow in between his legs, where your thighs would normally tangle with his. 

He breathes in the vague scent of you left on the bed — not much since the sheets have been changed and he can only smell the laundry scent you normally use, of sandalwood and cedar, warm and spicy. 

Twenty-three days. 

He can handle it. 

He falls asleep with the memory of your body like ivy against his own. Even this far apart, he is and will always be covered in you.

[bu99erfly]

BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS (2016) BTS, dir. LUMPENS

[911bts]

[cultivateme]

[cinnamostar]

skz random texts !

cw : cursing, jokes abt mental illness/female anatomy/diseases, gender neutral except for first ss

these are based off ss ive seen online or my own conversations w friends ! lmk if you guys like these!

note: i currently am not taking requests :’) this was just for fun!!!

[shrewsburysworld]

Twisted Hearts

| Yandere Popular Guy Jeon Jungkook × Female Reader |

“I did it for us, Baby. She was the reason you wanted to leave. Now we can be together, without anyone coming between us.”

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5 (M)