#Bts jin

[mimpinightmare]

"It's okay Yoongi. You're our favourite Short King~ :) 💜"

“You sure about that?”

[minxmut-cafe]

FUCKING MACHINE

Pairing : BTS Members x Reader.

Warning : smut, dirty talk, uses of a fucking machine, accidental voyeurism.

Authors note : Ehe.

Synopsis :

They come home expecting a nice warm welcome but the sight that greets them...oh my

NAMJOON

You don’t hear the front door open.

You don’t hear the keys dropping onto the table or the sound of footsteps moving through the apartment. You’re too far gone—too deep in your own world, panting, trembling, as the machine works its relentless pace, dragging out pleasure until you’re barely coherent.

But you do hear his voice.

"Baby?"

Your eyes snap open, panic flashing through you just as you feel the weight of his presence in the doorway.

Namjoon is standing there.

Still in his airport clothes, a backpack slung over one shoulder, his face slack with shock. His lips part slightly, his brows furrow, and for a moment—just a moment—he doesn’t move.

His gaze flicks down. And then he sees.

Sees the machine. Sees you, trembling, ruined, with your thighs spread wide to take every inch of the thick, pulsing replica of his cock. Sees how your body jerks every time it fills you, how your chest heaves, your lips parted on silent, desperate cries.

Sees everything.

His breath stutters. His fingers tighten around the strap of his bag.

"What…what are you doing?"

His voice is so soft. Confused. Almost innocent.

But then he notices—how wrecked you are. How long you must’ve been at this. How your pretty eyes roll back, how hoarse your cries sound, how your body twitches like you’ve already come too many times to count.

"Oh, baby."

The backpack drops.

Your whole body locks up when you see his shoulders tense—the way his throat bobs as he swallows hard, the way his usually gentle eyes darken into something you’ve never seen before.

"Turn it off." His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s not a request.

With shaking fingers, you fumble for the remote, pressing the button to shut the machine off. The moment it stops, your body collapses, a wrecked whimper falling from your lips at the sudden loss.

And then—Namjoon is on you.

"Baby…" His large hands are everywhere—cupping your cheek, stroking your trembling thighs, his brows drawn together as he takes in your wrecked state. "How long have you been doing this?"

You can barely think, barely speak, but when you don’t answer fast enough, Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the base of the toy still inside you, shifting it slightly—just enough to make your body jolt.

"Too long," he murmurs, answering his own question.

Your breath hitches. "Joonie—"

"Shh." He presses his forehead to yours, his voice achingly soft, but his grip on the toy tightens. "Baby, you know I love you, right?"

You nod frantically.

"You know I’d do anything for you?"

Another nod.

His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. "Then tell me, sweetheart—why did you need this when I’m right here?"

Tears prick your eyes. "I missed you—"

"Oh, baby." His voice is so sweet, so full of warmth, but the way he pulls the toy out in one slow, devastating motion is anything but.

A broken sob rips from your throat. Your walls clench around nothing, your body aching with the loss, but Namjoon just watches—eyes dark, lips parted, fingers twitching as he studies the toy now slick and glistening in his hand.

And then, he does something unexpected.

He brings it to his lips.

Drags his tongue along the length—his length—tasting the evidence of just how badly you needed him. His eyes flutter shut, a deep, guttural groan vibrating in his chest.

And when he opens them again—

"I think it’s time you remember why the real thing is better."

And then—he ruins you all over again.

KIM SEOK JIN.

"Honey, I’m home!"

Seokjin’s voice is full of warmth, lighthearted as he kicks off his shoes, already smiling at the thought of surprising you. He wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, but the thought of seeing you sooner had been too tempting.

But then—

He hears it.

A soft, rhythmic whirring. A noise that doesn’t belong. A noise coming from your bedroom.

His brows furrow. He steps closer, the sound growing clearer with each step—accompanied by something else. Something wrecked.

A moan.

His stomach tightens.

Jin reaches the doorway, pushing it open with ease, ready to call out to you—

And then he sees.

Sees you—spread out on the bed, shaking, your hands clutching the sheets as your body jerks helplessly with every deep thrust of the machine. Sees the way your pretty mouth falls open, drool glistening on your lips, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

Sees the thick, veined toy inside you.

And then—realization hits.

Because he knows that shape. That curve. That size.

It’s him.

His first reaction is disbelief. His second is offense.

"Are you kidding me?"

Your whole body jolts. Eyes fluttering open, you meet his gaze—wide, shocked, completely fucked out.

"J-Jin—"

He scoffs. Actually scoffs.

"So let me get this straight—" He crosses his arms, looking so unimpressed despite the flush creeping up his neck. "I leave for one tour, and suddenly I’m replaceable?"

You whimper, trying to reach for the remote, but Jin is faster.

He snatches it before you can, holding it up with a slow, dangerous smirk.

"Oh, no. You wanted this, right? You went out of your way to get a perfect replica of me—so why don’t we see how well it compares?"

Before you can protest, Jin’s thumb presses down.

The machine speeds up.

A cry rips from your throat, your body convulsing as the mechanical thrusts deepen, pushing you right to the edge again.

Jin watches.

Leaning casually against the wall, he studies the way you fall apart—how your back arches, how your legs shake, how your lips tremble. His tongue clicks against his teeth, his head tilting slightly.

"Mm. I don’t know, sweetheart—" His voice is mocking. "You look like you’re enjoying this a little too much."

Tears gather at the corners of your eyes. You’re so close, right there, just one more second—

And then—

Click.

The machine shuts off.

You sob.

"Aw, baby." Jin pouts dramatically, tossing the remote onto the bed. "Did I ruin it for you?"

You glare at him, but it’s weak—your body too wrecked, too needy to do anything but tremble.

Jin chuckles, finally stepping forward. He kneels on the bed, his warm hands gliding up your shaky thighs, his gaze softening—just slightly.

"You really missed me that much, huh?" His voice drops, his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles into your skin. "Couldn’t wait for the real thing?"

You nod frantically, lower lip trembling. "Jin, please—"

"Shh." He leans in, lips brushing over yours, but not quite kissing. "I got you, baby. Let me remind you why the original is always better."

MIN YOONGI

You’re completely gone.

Sweat clings to your skin, legs trembling, fingers gripping the sheets in a desperate attempt to ground yourself as the machine continues its relentless pace.

You don’t hear the door open.

You don’t hear the soft shuffle of footsteps.

You don’t even sense him until—

"Huh."

Your entire body freezes.

Your heart stops.

And then, in pure horror, your head snaps toward the door.

Yoongi.

Standing there.

One hand in his pocket, the other holding a plastic bag—probably takeout from his favorite spot.

Expression?

Completely. Blank.

Oh, fuck.

You scramble to shut the machine off, body still twitching from the aftershocks, but Yoongi just lets out a slow, low exhale through his nose.

"Don’t stop on my account."

Your breath hitches.

You should say something. Apologize. Explain. Anything.

But you’re still too dazed—too wrecked—and Yoongi knows it.

Knows it, and uses it against you.

He steps closer.

Slow. Unbothered. Like this is just another Tuesday.

And then—finally—he speaks.

"You must’ve been real desperate, huh?"

Your face burns.

But Yoongi?

He just tilts his head.

"Really couldn’t wait for me?" His eyes drop—zeroing in on the toy still buried inside you. "Had to go and get a little… substitute?"

You swallow. Hard.

His tone is unreadable—calm, flat—but his eyes are a different story.

They flicker—something dark, something knowing, something that makes your stomach flip.

And then—his lips part.

"Looks like it did a number on you, too."

Your breath catches.

Because it has.

You know what you must look like—skin damp with sweat, thighs trembling, body still buzzing from the aftermath.

Yoongi sees it, too.

Sees it, and—finally—his lips twitch.

The barest hint of amusement.

"Cute."

You die.

Because that tone? That expression? It’s not mocking like Jimin’s.

No.

It’s worse.

It’s pleased.

And then—before you can even process what’s happening—he sets the takeout bag down, shrugs off his jacket, and—

"Alright."

Your breath shudders.

"Alright?" you echo, voice raw.

Yoongi just hums, rolling his shoulders.

"Go on, then." He gestures lazily at the still dripping toy between your legs. "Show me how badly you needed it."

Your lungs collapse.

"Yoongi—"

"Come on, baby." His voice is softer now—low, warm, dangerous. "You’ve already put on a show. Might as well finish it."

Oh, fuck.

Oh, you’re in trouble.

And from the way Yoongi smirks, slow and satisfied, he knows it too.

JUNG HOSEOK

You’re too far gone to notice him at first.

Body trembling, breath ragged, lips parted as the machine mercilessly works you open.

But then—

"What the fuck?!"

Your soul leaves your body.

Your entire existence pauses.

And when your dazed, blurry vision finally manages to focus—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Hoseok.

Standing in the doorway, hand clutching his chest like he’s just witnessed a murder.

Mouth hanging open in sheer, unfiltered disbelief.

Eyes wide, scandalized—as if you’ve just personally offended his ancestors.

Your hand slams down on the machine’s switch, body still twitching as you try to scramble for the sheets—

But Hobi gasps.

"Oh, don’t you dare!"

You freeze.

He points accusingly. "Don’t you dare try to act shy now!"

Your face burns. "Hobi—"

"No. No." His hands are on his hips now—looking you up and down like you’ve insulted his entire bloodline. "You mean to tell me—I leave for a little while, and you replace me with a machine?!"

You open your mouth—no idea what you’re even going to say—

But then his eyes drop.

To the toy.

The toy that’s still inside you.

And suddenly—his jaw drops too.

"WAIT A DAMN MINUTE—"

You whimper. "Hobi, please—"

"IS THAT ME?!"

Oh, fuck.

Your entire existence caves in on itself.

Because—yeah. It is.

The attachment on the machine? It’s modeled after him.

And Hoseok—

Hoseok sees it.

Sees it, realizes it, processes it—

And immediately starts pacing.

"Oh my GOD." He rakes a hand through his hair. "You—this—you actually—" He turns back to you, expression an absolute mess of emotions.

Scandalized. Confused. Weirdly proud?!

"Babe." He gestures wildly at the machine. "You commissioned a replica?!"

Your whole body burns. "I didn’t—"

L*"Who made this?! Is there a company?!"

You groan, covering your face. "Hobi—"

"Oh, my God, this is crazy!" He runs a hand down his face, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is—I mean, I get it, baby, I do, but—"*

And then—suddenly—he stops.

Goes completely still.

And when he looks back at you—

Oh.

Oh, you’re in danger.

Because his expression has shifted.

The shock is still there—sure.

But underneath it?

Amusement.

And something else.

Something dangerous.

"Wait." He takes a slow step forward. "So you mean to tell me—"

You gulp. "Hobi—"

"—That this whole time—while I was gone—" He’s right beside you now—voice dropping, taunting. "—You’ve been sitting here, legs spread, fucking yourself stupid on my dick—"*

Your breath shudders.

Hoseok just grins.

And then—he chuckles.

"Oh, baby." He tilts his head. "You are so in trouble."

PARK JIMIN

You’re so gone you don’t hear the door open.

You don’t hear the soft click of footsteps, the sharp inhale of breath—don’t see the shadow that lingers in the doorway, watching you with dark, unreadable eyes.

You don’t notice him until it’s too late.

Until a smooth, wicked voice cuts through the heavy air.

"Oh, baby… that’s just pathetic."

Your soul leaves your body.

Your head jerks up—eyes blown wide, a desperate whimper slipping from your throat as you lock onto him.

Jimin.

Standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, lip caught between his teeth.

And he is smirking.

Your whole body freezes. Shame, panic, devastation—it all slams into you at once, but before you can even think about scrambling to turn the machine off, Jimin tuts.

"Ah, ah—don't stop now, baby."

Your breath hitches.

His voice is low, silky—a slow drag of heat over your already ruined body.

And then—he steps closer.

"Look at you," he murmurs, eyes devouring the mess you’ve made of yourself. "Drooling, shaking… completely wrecked. And I was only gone for a few weeks?"

You open your mouth—no idea what you’re even going to say—but he just grins, tilting his head.

"You missed me that much?"

Oh, he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying this way too much.

And then—

His eyes drop.

To the toy still buried deep inside you.

The toy modeled after him.

And suddenly, his smirk turns sharp.

"Oh, baby…" He hums, stepping forward until he’s standing right beside you. "Is that what I think it is?"

You whimper, heat flooding your face.

Jimin just chuckles.

"Wow." His fingers trace the base of the toy, mockingly pressing down just enough to make you twitch. "So needy you had to make yourself a little… replacement?"

Your breath stutters—a desperate whimper slipping out before you can stop it.

Jimin grins.

"Mmm. That’s cute."

You don’t trust that tone.

And you shouldn’t.

Because the next thing you know, Jimin twists the toy inside you—just enough to make you gasp, body jolting against the sheets.

"Tell me, baby," he purrs, watching your reaction with open hunger. "Did it feel just like me?"

You swallow, heart pounding. "Jimin—"

"Be honest," he interrupts, fingers still teasingly toying with the base. "Did it fill you up the way I do? Stretch you open? Make you whimper and beg?"

You don’t answer.

You can’t.

Not when his voice is like this—all slow, all taunting, dark with amusement.

And then—he leans in.

His breath ghosts against your ear, his lips barely brushing your skin as he murmurs, "Did it make you scream my name?"

And just like that, you snap.

You jerk under his touch, hips instinctively rolling up, chasing something more. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he pulls back, grinning.

"Mmm. Thought so."

You hate him.

You love him.

And then—suddenly—his smirk sharpens.

"Alright, baby," he hums, eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Since you like using my dick so much—why don’t we see if the real thing is still your favorite?"

And then—he ruins you.

KIM TAEHYUNG

One second, he’s walking into your shared apartment, humming softly, Tannie tucked in his arms. He’s thinking about surprising you, about cuddling up together, about how much he missed you while he was away.

And then—

He hears it.

A low, rhythmic whirr—a mechanical hum that definitely wasn’t there before.

He pauses. Brows furrow.

Tannie lets out a soft woof, like he can sense something is off.

"You hear that, bud?" Taehyung murmurs, adjusting his hold on the little dog as he walks toward the bedroom. "Maybe she’s fixing something?"

Oh, if only.

Because nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the sight that greets him when he pushes open the door.

You.

On the bed.

Absolutely wrecked.

Your legs are spread, your hands are clutching the sheets, your eyes rolling back, drool slipping from your lips as your body jerks with every deep thrust of the machine.

A machine that—

Taehyung chokes.

That’s—that’s him. That’s his dick.

The realization slams into him so hard he almost drops Tannie.

And then—

"HOLY SH—"

The shriek he lets out is ungodly, so loud that Tannie lets out a startled bark, squirming in his arms.

"TAEHYUNG?!" You scream, eyes snapping open, pure horror flashing across your face as you scramble for the remote.

But Taehyung is already spinning on his heel, face aflame, clutching his dog to his chest like a shield.

"I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING—" His voice cracks— "I—OH MY GOD—TANNIE, COVER YOUR EYES—"

Tannie, oblivious, just lets out another woof.

You die.

You fumble to turn the machine off, still reeling from the absolute chaos unfolding before you. Taehyung is pacing in the hallway, one hand clamped over his eyes, the other still gripping his very confused dog.

"I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS—"

"TAEHYUNG, JUST STOP YELLING—"

"YOU’RE—YOU WERE—WITH A ROBOT ME—WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION?!"

"PRETEND YOU NEVER SAW IT—"

"I CAN’T—" He wails, voice cracking all over again. "IT’S BURNED INTO MY BRAIN—"

You groan, dragging a hand down your face.

"Tae, baby, please—"

"I NEED HOLY WATER—TANNIE, WE NEED HOLY WATER—"

At this point, you don’t know if you want to laugh, cry, or die. Probably all three.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is still reeling in the hallway, mumbling something about needing to rewire his entire memory.

And somewhere in all of this, Tannie just lets out another woof, tail wagging—completely unbothered.

JEON JUNGKOOK

You don’t hear him come in.

Too lost—too wrecked—you don’t notice the door creak open, don’t see the shadow that lingers in the doorway, arms crossed, watching.

But you do hear it.

A snort.

"Oh, no way—"

Your soul leaves your body.

Your eyes snap open, mortified, your whole body locking up in horror as your gaze meets his.

Jungkook is standing in the doorway.

And he is grinning.

His massive eyes are wide with amusement, his perfect teeth on display as he watches you, shoulders shaking like he’s trying to hold back his laughter. Spoiler alert: He fails.

"Babe—babe, what is this?" He wheezes, stepping into the room, one hand on his chest like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing in his entire life. "Is that—oh my god—is that me?"

You make a dying noise, scrambling to shut the machine off, but the second you fumble with the remote, Jungkook is there.

He snatches it.

"Ah-ah, don’t be shy now!" He wiggles the remote between his fingers, his shameless bunny grin on full display. "You were so into it just a second ago."

You groan, hiding your face, but he just laughs harder.

"No, seriously, baby—" He plops down onto the edge of the bed, beaming. "I leave for a few weeks, and you go out of your way to get a mechanical version of my dick? Like—how did you even do that? Did they take measurements? Did you show them pictures?"

You whimper. "Jungkook, I hate you."

"No, you don’t," he singsongs, clearly having the time of his life. "You love me. Too much, apparently."

You’re dying. Absolutely perishing. But Jungkook? He’s thriving.

His head tilts, tongue poking out between his teeth as he eyes the toy still inside you. His grin turns wicked.

"Damn, baby," he murmurs, gripping your trembling thigh. "You really went all out, huh? Look at you—absolutely wrecked."

You glare at him through your fingers. "If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least help me first."

Jungkook gasps—all fake offense, hand clutching his chest. "Me? Make fun of you? Baby, I’m honored."

You groan again, but before you can say anything else, Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the base of the toy.

You squeak.

"Wait, wait—!"

But he just grins—and turns the machine back on.

A cry rips from your throat as the vibrations resume, your overstimulated body twitching beneath him.

"Ohhh, baby," Jungkook coos, eyes twinkling as he watches you squirm. "Let’s see if my twin here can keep up, yeah?"

And then—he ruins you all over again.

[magic-shop-stories]

how would bts react to their kids being disrespectful towards their wife?

💌 Reply:

Ahh, I hope this is what you wanted... I took me way too long, but I got so many ideas while writing this.

This blog is honestly turning into BTS Parent AU (crying in orphan) - I started with a J-Hope Dad fic and end up writing Dad Headcanons for whole Bangtan - well, it kinda heals my childhood lol...

Thanks for the Request and feel free to reach out 💜 and HAVE FUN reading ✨️✨️

“Respect isn’t a rule, it’s the soil we grow in. If you poison it, nothing blooms.”

NAMJOON

Philosopher-leader

introspective

values growth through empathy & dialogue

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

when he hears the disrespect, his grip tightens on whatever he’s holding, knuckles whitening

closes his eyes for a beat, exhaling through his nose

you know how his jaw clenches? THAT!!!

his voice is low but steady, deliberate calm masking his hurt

“That language isn’t acceptable. Let’s take a walk.”

Internal Feelings: 

disappointment curdles in his chest

mentally files it away to process later

blames himself first before focusing on guiding his child

Teaching Moment

Nature Walk

takes his child to a quiet park or riverbank

points to tangled tree roots: 

“See how they hold each other up? Families are like that. When you hurt Mom, you shake our roots.” 

asks them to find a smooth stone and toss it into water

“Words are like ripples, once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

Punishment

1) Apology Letter & Reflection Essay

his child writes two things

heartfelt apology to their mom, including specific examples of her sacrifices

A 1-page reflection on “How My Words Impact Others,” using a metaphor; e.g., “Anger is fire,it burns the person holding it too”

2) Community Service

would volunteer with his child at a local community garden for a weekend

“You’ll water plants and see how care grows something beautiful. Like Mom does for us.”

3) Lost Privileges

no screen time (tablet, TV) until both letters are completed to his standards

Internal Conflict

Self-Doubt:

later, he vents in his journal

 “Did I overreact? Am I too abstract for them to understand?” 

worries his calmness comes off as indifference

Frustration & Compassion

part of him wants to yell "How dare they hurt her?" but he swallows it, knowing anger won’t teach

instead, texts his wife: 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. We’ll fix this together.”

Guilt

buys her favorite latte and leaves it on her desk with a sticky note

“You’re our bedrock. Thank you for enduring my learning curves too.”

Follow-Up

Family Meeting

gathers everyone to discuss “healthy communication.”

uses a whiteboard to map emotions

e.g., “When you’re angry, here’s how we express it without explosions”

lets his child lead part of the discussion

Ritual

starts a weekly “Gratitude Stone” tradition

each family member drops a painted stone into a bowl while sharing something they appreciate about the others

the bowl stays on the dining table as a visual reminder

_________________________________________

“Respect your mom, or I’ll revoke your WiFi and your right to laugh at my jokes. And trust me, you need both to survive.”

JIN

playful disciplinarian

fiercely protective

humor as a bridge to vulnerability

nurturing with a side of theatrics

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Dramatic Flair

whirls around, clutching his chest like a K-drama lead

“Yah! Did I just hear disrespect in this household? To the woman who gave you life? Are you a villain in a weekend drama now?” 

his voice drops, dead serious

“Apologize. Properly. Now.”

Body Language

looms over his child (playfully intimidating), arms crossed

winks at his wife to reassure her he’s handling it

Internal Feelings

hot flash of anger - How dare they hurt her?

masks it with humor to avoid scaring his kid

secretly wonders - Did I joke too much about respect? Is this my fault?

Teaching Moment

Cooking Lesson Consequences

drags his kid to the kitchen

“You think parenting is easy? Let’s see you handle dinner.” 

carefully forces them to peel garlic, chop onions, and stir a bubbling pot while he “supervises” from a stool

Metaphor Time

 “Mom’s like this stew, holds everything together. You insult her, the whole family falls apart. You wanna taste chaos? Here...” 

lets them sip over-salted broth

“See? Without her balance, life’s spicy in the worst way.”

Punishment:

Apology Performance

he'd make them sing an apology parody of Super Tuna (Jin writes lyrics if they're younger/need help) (too personal opinion)

“I’m sorry, Mom, I was a fool / I broke the golden respect rule!”

complete with fish-themed choreography

Mom’s Personal Assistant

for a week, his kid acts as Mom’s “manager”

bringing her coffee, massaging her shoulders, and taking notes on her daily tasks

“You’ll learn how hard she works and say ‘Yes, Queen’ with a smile.”

No Joke Privilege

bans his child from his dad-joke sessions (their favorite bonding time) until they earn back trust

“Comedy’s a privilege for people who respect their co-stars.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt & Second-Guessing

after bedtime, he stress-eats kimchi pancakes in the kitchen

mutters to his wife: 

“Was I too harsh? Should I have hugged them first?” 

(if she reassures him, he still texts his mom at 2 a.m.)

“How did you not disown me when I was 13 and edgy?”

Protective Fury

secretly grinds his teeth remembering the disrespect

Humor as Armor

buys his wife expensive skincare “just because”

glares at hiskid’s homework like it personally offended her

cracks a joke during the apology song

“Your high note needs work, but the remorse is chef’s kiss”

makes sure his child knows he’s dead serious underneath

Follow-Up

Family Dinner Theater

institutes a weekly “Appreciation Roast” where everyone playfully roasts each other, but he'd end up praising his child and wife

“Your mom’s so amazing, she makes the sun jealous. Fight me.”

Secret Spy Mission

assigns his kid to stealthily document Mom’s daily acts of kindness (e.g., packing lunches, fixing Wi-Fi)

“Mom Appreciation PowerPoint.” = Jin adds meme slides for flair

_________________________________________

“Your anger’s a tool. Use it to fix what you broke, not break what she fixed.”

SUGA

stoic realist

quietly protective

values actions over empty words

emotionally reserved

deeply introspective

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Cold Silence

freezes mid-task (producing beats, fixing a coffee)

eyes narrowing to slits

voice drops to a low, icy register

“Repeat that. Slowly.” 

room chills, even the air feels heavier

Body Language

leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, jaw clenched

a vein pulses at his temple, the only tell of his simmering rage

Internal Feelings

visceral flashback to his teenage self snapping at his parents

guilt claws at him

“Am I failing like I thought he did?” 

referencing his own father’s emotional distance

Teaching Moment

Studio Session

drags his kid to his home studio at midnight

slams headphones onto them

“You’re angry? Scream. Spit it into the mic. Let’s hear exactly what’s rotting in your head.” 

records their raw, unfiltered outburst

plays it back, deadpan

“This what you want your legacy to be? Noise?”

Lyric Exercise

forces them to transform the rant into structured rap verses 

“Anger’s useless if it doesn’t build something. Mom’s your hook, write a chorus thanking her.”

Punishment

Gratitude Ledger

his child must document every thing Mom does for them for a week, down to folded socks

present it as a spreadsheet

 “Numbers don’t lie. Now apologize in data.”

Manual Labor

assigns them to clean the studio top-to-bottom

“You wanna disrespect the woman who cleans your messes? Learn the weight of it.”

Tech Ban

confiscates their phone/laptop until the rap is perfected

“You’ll communicate face-to-face like we did in the trenches.”

Internal Conflict

Fatherhood Ghosts

stares at old family photos late at night

his father’s stern face haunts him

“Will my kid remember me as a wall or a weapon?” 

texts his mom

“Did I ever make you feel small?” 

she replies with a heart emoji, he saves it but doesn’t sleep

Emotional Paradox 

wants to hug his child but fears coddling

leaves a new pair of sneakers (their size) outside their door -no note

Protective Rage

slips cash into his wife’s purse with a scribbled 

“Buy silence. Spa. Dinner. Whatever. I’ll handle the chaos.”

Follow-Up

Family Cypher

hosts a living room rap battle

he goes hardest on himself

“I’m a flawed king, but Mom’s the throne. Diss her again, and you’ll rap alone.” 

his kid’s verse earns a nod

“Better. Still trash flow, though.”

Silent Ritual

every Sunday, he and his child cook his mom’s kimchi jjigae recipe

no talking, just chopping, stirring, and passing ingredients

“Respect’s in the labor,” he mutters once, and his kid finally gets it

_________________________________________

”You can’t fake respect like a bad dance cover. Nail the basics, or you’re benched from my WiFi."

J-HOPE

radiant disciplinarian

structured yet warm

balances positivity with unwavering principles

thrives on growth through accountability

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

The Judge Face Activated

the moment he hears the disrespect, his signature smile evaporates

eyes narrow into a laser-focused stare

brows furrowing into "courtroom glare."

stands tall, arms crossed, fingertips tapping his biceps

silent countdown to explosion

Voice

sharp and clipped, volume rising just enough to sting

“Hold. Up. Did you just speak to your mother like that? Do you need a mirror to see how ugly that sounded?”

Body Language

steps between his child and his wife, a protective shield

his usually animated hands now rigid at his sides, fists briefly clenching

Teaching Moment

Choreography of Consequences

”Respect Rehearsal”

forces his child to practice bowing and polite phrases

”Yes, Mom,” “Thank you, Mom” 50 times in front of a mirror “You wanna act up? Perfect your performance as a decent human first.”

Gratitude Graffiti

hands them poster boards and markers

“You have one hour to turn this disrespect into art. Every color is a reason Mom deserves better.” 

stands arms crossed, critiquing laziness

“That’s yellow effort. I’ve seen your TikToks, do rainbow.”

Hope’s Homework

assigns a essay titled ”How My Words Dance on Others’ Hearts”

must include a choreography metaphor

“If you can’t write it, we’ll literalize it. Ten pirouettes per paragraph.”

Internal Conflict

Post-Punishment Panic

“Was I too much? Did I break their spirit? What if they hate me now?” 

after sending his kid to their room, he paces the kitchen

stress-eating gummy bears

texts Jimin: 

”Hyung messed up. I went full dance captain on them 😭”

Guilty Glimpses

peeks into his child’s room later, heart aching if they’re crying

leaves a bowl of their favorite fruit with a note

”Anger fades. Love doesn’t. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Wife Reassurance

kneads his wife’s shoulders that night, voice small

“Did I… overstep? I just... I couldn’t let them think it’s okay to dim your light.” he exhales shakily

Follow-Up

Apology Showcase

makes his child present their poster and essay at a “family meeting.”

he claps loudest, eyes misty

”This… this is hope, right? Growth!”

Kindness Choreo

creates a ”Respect Routine”

his child must perform one act of service for Mom daily (e.g., making her coffee, tidying her shoes)

Dance Floor Therapy

blasts upbeat music, pulling his kid into a silly dance-off. 

”Life’s a stage, yeah? But Mom’s the main audience. Never forget.”

_________________________________________

“You’re my blood. But if you cut her, I’ll bleed harder. Fix this.”

JIMIN

affectionate empath

fiercely loyal

balances warmth with unexpected intensity

prioritizes emotional harmony

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Surprising Fury

his doe eyes harden into a steel-gray glare

voice dropping to a razor-sharp whisper

“What did you just say to her?” 

steps closer, posture taut as a bowstring

“You don’t ever speak to Mom like that. Apologize. Now.”

Body Language

hands tremble slightly, not from fear, but suppressed rage

he grips his child’s shoulder, not roughly, but firm enough to ground them

“Look at her. Look at how you made her feel.”

Internal Feelings

flash of his own childhood guilt surfaces

that time he snapped at his mother during trainee stress

his anger is laced with panic: 

“Am I repeating cycles I swore to break?”

Teaching Moment

Emotional Bootcamp

Apology Art

forces his child to create a “Heart Map” collage

photos of Mom’s sacrifices, surrounded by handwritten apologies in every color

“If you can’t say it, show it.”

sits silently beside them, tears brimming as he points to a photo of Mom staying up late with homework

Role Reversal

makes them act out a skit where they’re the parent

Jimin plays them, mimicking their harsh tone

feigns sobbing into a pillow

“Feel good? Proud? This is what you did.”

Service Sentence

his child must take over Mom’s chores for a week, packing lunches, folding laundry

he supervises, arms crossed 

“You think her love is free? It’s labor. Respect it.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt Spiral

after confrontation, he locks himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face

“Did I scare them? What if they think I’m a monster?” 

texts Jungkook: 

”Messed up. I sounded like a monster”

Midnight Check-In

creeps into his child’s room at 2 a.m., tucking them in

whispers

“I’m sorry I yelled. But Mom… she’s my soul. You can’t break her.” 

leaves a handwritten note: 

“Anger is love that’s bleeding. Let’s heal together.”

Wife’s Reassurance

clings to her that night, forehead pressed to her shoulder

“Tell me I’m not failing. Tell me they’ll still love me.”

Soft Family Resolution

Pillow Fort Summit:

builds a blanket fort in the living room

stuffed with snacks and fairy lights

initiates a feelings circle

“I’m sorry I yelled. I felt scared; scared we’d lose us.” 

“Love is sticky, yeah? Messy. But sweet when you knead it right.” 

encourages his child to share

pulls them into a cuddle pile

Baking Therapy

bakes cookies together, Jimin guiding their hands

feeds Mom the first bite, eyes soft

Dance of Apology

plays a slow song, swaying with his child

“This is how we say sorry without words.” 

by the end, they’re both laughing through tears

_________________________________________

“Disrespect your mom, and you erase the art of our family. I’ll burn the palette until you paint her properly.”

TAEHYUNG (V)

artistic empath

whimsical yet profound

values emotional depth and creativity

fiercely protective with a tender heart

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Quiet Intensity

his playful demeanor evaporates

tilts his head, eyes narrowing into a piercing gaze

voice low and steady

“Did I just hear you disrespect the universe that holds our family together?”

his tone is velvet wrapped in steel

Body Language

steps closer, crouching to his child’s level

hands clasped tightly behind his back to avoid trembling

“You think words are just air? They’re echoes. Let’s make sure yours don’t haunt us.”

Teaching Moment

Metaphor-Driven Lesson:

”Broken Vase” Analogy

brings out a delicate ceramic vase

smashes it deliberately

“This was us. Now fix it.” 

hands them glue, forcing them to piece it back

“Apologies are glue, but cracks remain. Choose your words wisely.”

Songwriting Therapy

drags his child to the piano

“Turn your anger into music. Write a chorus for Mom, every line a reason she’s our melody.” 

plays minor chords until his child’s lyrics shift from defiance to remorse

Silent Gallery

curates a “Mom Exhibit” in the living room

photos, her favorite scarf, a recipe card

forces his child to stand there for an hour

“Breathe in her soul. Then tell me she deserves disrespect.”

Consequence

1) Art Ban

revokes access to paints, instruments, or cameras until the vase is repaired and the song is performed for Mom

“Creativity is a privilege. Use it to heal, not harm.”

2) Memory Journal: 

assigns a diary to log daily acts of kindness from Mom 

“Fill 10 pages. Then burn one and see how it feels to erase her love.”

3) Shadow Day: 

his child must follow Mom for 24 hours, documenting her tasks in a sketchbook

“You’ll learn her language of love—it’s spelled S-A-C-R-I-F-I-C-E.”

Internal Conflict

Doubt in Darkness

late at night, he stares at the fractured vase on his shelf

texts Jin: 

“Hyung, what if I’m too abstract? What if they don’t see?” 

vowing, “I’ll be the parent who stays in the frame.”

Guilt in Gestures

secretly films Mom’s daily routine, editing it into a montage set to his child’s song

leaves it on their laptop with a note: 

“Her love is your legacy. Don’t let it be a silent film.”

Protective Poetry

writes a letter he never sends: 

“I’d raze galaxies to keep you safe. Both of you.”

Resolution

Family Portrait Session

dresses everyone in coordinating hues

directing a photoshoot where Mom is the focal point

whispered to his child: 

“See how she outshines us all? That’s why we orbit her.”

Midnight Storytime

gathers them under fairy lights

recounting a fable about a boy who lost his voice after hurting his mother

ends with, “Love is the only language worth speaking.”

Collaborative Art

paints a mural together titled “Home.”

guides his child’s hand to outline Mom’s figure

“Without her, this canvas is empty. Now fill it with light.”

_________________________________________

“Disrespect Mom, and you’ll spar with me until your heart matches your mouth, strong enough to lift her, not tear her down.”

JUNGKOOK

gentle protector

resilient softie

leads by example

values hard work and emotional honesty

channels intensity into growth

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Silent Fury

freezes mid-rep at the gym, dumbbell hovering

his muscles tense like coiled springs

jaw clenched so tight his cheekbones sharpen

sets the weight down with deliberate calm, turns slowly, and locks eyes with his child

“You think you’re tough enough to disrespect your mom? Let’s test that.”

Body Language

cracks his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back

his gaze is volcanic

his voice stays eerily quiet

“Gym. Now. You wanna act hard? Be hard.”

Teaching Moment

Boxing Bootcamp

drags his kid to his home gym

forces them into gloves, pads him up, and drills combos

“Hit the pad. Harder. Harder. That’s your anger? Mom’s felt worse from your words.” 

makes them sprint between rounds

“Respect isn’t a game, it’s a discipline.”

Breakdown: mid-session, he stops, chest heaving

“You think I’m mad? I’m terrified. Because if you break her heart, I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Punishment

Labor of Love: 

assigns 100 burpees (he does them too)

“Every rep is a ‘thank you’ for Mom’s sleepless nights.”

Gratitude Gauntlet

forces his kid to handwrite 50 reasons Mom “outworks them daily.”

critiques each one

“’She drives me to school’? Weak. Dig deeper. Sacrifice.”

Tech Timeout

confiscates gaming gear until they’ve detailed Mom’s daily schedule in a spreadsheet

“You’ll see her 18-hour shift. Then we’ll talk ‘fair.’”

Internal Conflict

Regret & Vulnerability

after the workout, he sits alone in the gym, head in hands

texts Yoongi:

”Hyung, did I go full drill sergeant? What if they hate me?” 

stares at a family photo on his phone, zooming in on his wife’s smile

Guilt Gifts

sneaks into his kid’s room at dawn, leaves protein pancakes and a new hoodie (their favorite anime print)

scrawls on a napkin

”Anger fades. My love for you doesn’t. But never hurt her again.”

Protective Paradox

books his wife a solo vacation, "growling" at his kid

 “You’re stuck with me. We’re rebuilding what you cracked.”

Soft Resolution

Sparring Therapy

returns to the gym days later, gloves on

this time, he lets his child hit his pads while venting

“I get it, anger’s easy. Loving’s harder. But Mom? She’s worth the reps.” 

ends with a fist bump

Tattoo Talk

shows them his “ARMY” tattoo

“This means I fight for what I love. You’ll earn yours when you learn to fight for her, not against.”

Family Night

teaches self-defense moves

positioning Mom as the “VIP to protect.”

his kid must shield her from his playful attacks

“Guard her like she’s your last round.”

_________________________________________

[btsstaysgold]

words can't describe how FINE jeon jungkook really and truly is..

(crtto)

[persphonesorchid]

What Remains - Cupid's On Holiday

Notes: There is nothing but angst here. I'm sorry. The idea hit me out of nowhere and this happened. Now, this takes place within Cupid's On Holiday's original universe! Not the one where all the drabbles have happened so far. The one where Seokjin left at the end of the first fic. Happy reading! ❤️

There's something surreal about this moment.

Yoongi tugs at the fraying strings of his old quilt, patchwork and worn, thrown over his legs for warmth. A stray, uncut and forgotten thorn pricks his finger, and ruby red blooms from the wound.

There's a scrape, metal on concrete, the one, single second of silence, and then the thud of dirt hitting a casket seven feet below. The clouds block the sun, and the wind that blows by is cold, and Yoongi scowls. You always hated the cold. How dare the sun not shine on today of all days.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, warm despite the chill in the air. His son, now a man with greying strands at his temples, stands beside him, his wife at his side. Their children—his grandchildren—watch in solemn silence, the youngest clutching their mother’s coat.

He wonders, briefly, if they remember you. If they’ll recall the way you used to hum in the kitchen, how you smelled of fresh linen and soft jasmine. If they’ll tell their children stories about the woman who made a house a home, the woman who loved them fiercely, quietly, endlessly.

The young nurse leans down, voice gentle. "Mr. Min, Mr. Jung is here."

Hoseok takes his time, meandering over; his old knees just aren't what they used to be. He offers a smile, the same as it always was, bright enough to rival the sun, even now. The sound of his cane is muffled by the soft green grass as he comes to stand next to Yoongi. His wife, standing a little ways back, dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Jungkook is here too, somewhere in the crowd of mourners, his hand clasped around his wife's. His hair is streaked with silver now, but his eyes hold the same boyish warmth they always have. He doesn’t cry, not openly, but Yoongi catches the way his fingers tighten around hers, like he’s grounding himself.

The nurse pushes the wheelchair forward, allowing Yoongi to lay a single red rose atop your final resting place.

There’s a chill down his spine that has nothing to do with the weather, and as the nurse pulls the wheelchair back into place, Yoongi’s eyes scan the graveyard.

In the distance, under a tree, a figure looms. Dark against the endless mounds of erected gravestones.

He grips Hoseok’s sleeve and tugs, and in turn, Hoseok whispers something to the young nurse. Hoseok takes her place behind Yoongi and pushes his wheelchair toward the old tree.

The man clad in black—quite unlike him, if Yoongi’s memory serves him well—keeps his gaze fixed on the burial site.

He looks exactly the same.

Yoongi remembers. The last time he saw this man, many, many years ago, he was stepping into an elevator. He had that same look on his face, like he’d lost something precious. The way you had lost something that day.

You weren’t quite the same after that. Of course, you were still you. At your very essence, you remained true. But… something was missing. And for years, Yoongi wondered what it was.

Your luck wasn’t much better with romance, and after a couple of failures on both your ends, Yoongi made good on his promise.

It was never a grand love affair, not in the way people dream of, but it was steady. It was built on something unshakable, an understanding between two people who had no one else. And so, together, you built a life—one filled with laughter and quiet joys, with the warmth of family filling the spaces where loneliness once lingered.

There were no grand declarations, no whirlwind romances, but there was love. Real, steady, unshaken love. You had a son, a little hand that once wrapped around your finger, a bright-eyed soul who carried pieces of both you and Yoongi into the world.

And later, there were echoes of small feet running through your home, laughter spilling like golden light through the halls—grandchildren, if only for a time.

You lived. As though the man who once stood at the crossroads of your fate had never been there at all. Because that was what he had wanted. For you to live, to find happiness, to carve a life in the years he could not walk beside you. And so you did.

You were a wonderful partner and friend. His best friend.

But the man before him held your heart, even if you hadn’t known.

You hadn’t remembered.

Yoongi had.

It came in snippets and dreams, fragmented and broken, but one figure was always present in your smiles.

"Seokjin."

The man -- that isn't a man at all -- finally looks at him. It boggles Yoongi’s mind that he’s sitting in a wheelchair, withered and aged by time and the world, and Kim Seokjin hasn’t aged a day.

"Thank you for looking after her, my friend." His voice seems far away and close all at once, like Yoongi is sat in the middle of a tunnel with bouncing sounds. "I’m glad it was you, at least."

He seems sad. There’s a sadness to his visage, to his voice. He looks like he did that day, in the hallway of an apartment building that no longer exists.

"I made her a promise."

Seokjin nods, a chilly wind shifting his hair against his forehead. "Yes, I know." He sighs, and then, he smiles. "A promise well kept."

Yoongi hums, "Did you at least visit her one last time?"

There are some things he’s come to know with time. He’s had enough of it to figure things out. He isn’t surprised to see Seokjin here, looking the way he does. Those little dreams and memories over the years gave a lot away. And Yoongi has seen him here and there. Always at times when something big was happening—his wedding to you, the birth of your son, his grandchildren.

Seokjin weaves in and out, like an echo, a shadow in the corner of Yoongi’s eye.

"In a dream," Seokjin says. "She wasn’t particularly happy it took me so long."

Yoongi’s laugh tapers off into a cough, but he smiles all the same. "Sounds like her."

Seokjin chuckles softly, something distant in the sound. His gaze drifts to the gravestones, unreadable, before shifting back to Yoongi. "It’s time."

Yoongi knows. He can feel it deep in his bones, in the way his breath has felt heavier these days, in the way the world seems just a little quieter. The kind of quiet that settles before a storm.

He glances back at Hoseok, his oldest friend, standing by the wheelchair with knowing eyes. There’s sorrow there, but also peace. Jungkook is a little farther off, watching with an unreadable expression. His wife is beside him, her fingers woven tightly through his.

Yoongi turns back to Seokjin, tilting his head slightly. "Will she be mad if I make her wait?"

Seokjin smiles, something like fondness in his expression. "She’ll understand."

Yoongi hums again, the sound barely above the wind. He leans back into his chair, letting the cold settle in his bones.

"Then just a little while longer."

Tagging: @hwaslayer @bangtansmauyeondan @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna @dontstoptime @allhobbitstoisengard @minmin2122 @liveyun @firesighgirl

[yooboobies]

....his heart is very big

[vanillakook]

DOPAMINE (PT. 1) ꔫ - JJK

synopsis: mingyu’s little sister has a question for jungkook

parings: brothersbestfriend!jk x fem!reader

info & warnings: dirty talk and explicit language, dom!jk, sneaking around, car sex, oral sex, (f. receiving), tones of corruption, self masturbation, guided masturbation, established crush/unrequited love, sexual tension, slow burn sort of, reader and jk already have a great relationship, touch her you die trope, brothers best friend trope, big!muscley!jungkook obv, might be a series?! im just saying stuff now?!!

a/n: part two here!

“can you make me cum?”

usually when you asked jungkook for a favor it was for a few bucks or when you needed a ride somewhere. so he was trying to make sense of what he was just asked. he blinked. once, then twice, then a third. he blinked until his eyesight finally got back to seeing one of you, and not five. he blinked at you, who just so happened to be his best friends younger sister. kim mingyu’s younger sister.

“what?”

“can you– are you really going to make me repeat it?” your lips pursed and your manicured hands went up to rest on your hips. you lowered your voice before asking again, “i said… can you make me cum.” you said more of as a demand now, making his tip leak a bit. the kitchen you both resided in felt like it was closing in on him.

“i’ll just pretend i didn’t hear that, and you pretend you didn’t say it, cool?” jungkook just shook his head with a laugh. as his footsteps moved back towards the garage where mingyu and the rest of his friends were hanging out, you followed after. as he put his hand on the knob to exit the kitchen, he stood there when your voice began flowing through him again.

“i won’t tell him. promise, it’ll be between us koo.” your voice lowered.

“where is this even coming from?”

your eyes squint. “a girl just asked you to make her cum and that’s what you’re worried about? i need help!” liar. help with what exactly? because he’s heard you. you like to play with yourself in the dead of night when you think everyone’s sleeping. this would actually be the perfect opportunity for jungkook to tell you to keep it down. you should be grateful for your family of heavy sleepers. he hears you plunging your fingers into that sweet pussy, always making the sound fall into a pattern with your staggered moans. he’d be lying to himself if he claimed it wasn’t the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard.

but enough of that, you were very off limits.

“no, a girl, actually my best friends little sister, is asking me to make her cum.” he tilted his head in that sarcastic manner that he’s been annoying you with since you were children.

“come on,” you rolled your eyes and popped your leg out. “i already told you i wouldn’t tell him. it’s a favor, you do me favors all the time, what’s wrong with this one?” oh you were serious. his best friends little sister wanted to get fucked by him. jungkook had enough on his plate as is.

“sexual favors?”

“you always tell me you’ll do anything for me, no matter what it is, no questions asked. and now you’re asking questions.”

jungkook couldn’t even hold his laughter until this end of your sentence. he let out a deep and heavy sigh. he wiped his hand over his face, cock strained and heart racing. “why are you asking me this y/n? out of all people?” he should have never asked that question either.

you sulked against the kitchen counter. “i was with this guy last night– what?” jungkook was already giving you the stink eye. just like your brother he was highly protective of you. guys knew not to fuck you over since you had two guys who were ready to step about you. yet whereas mingyu’s protectiveness was more so on the brotherly side, jungkook’s leaned toward a possessive nature. jungkook knew he couldn’t have you due to… circumstances. but that didn’t mean anyone else could.

he shook his thoughts away. “continue.”

“okay… well i’m just so tired of hooking up with people and being let down– i just– i think im broken or something. i can’t cum!” you threw your hands up. “like okay, yes i can make myself cum, but i can’t cum at the hands of someone else. and–and– last night that guy told me i was the problem. you’re mad because you can’t make me cum?” you stopped yourself before you yapped the man’s head off.

“stop fucking guys with trash dick.”

jungkook has been telling you to stop messing around with little boys that don’t do anything for you. you definitely weren’t the problem, and he was going to find the guy who said that bullshit. it wasn’t your fault they didn’t know what they were doing.

“hence why i want you to fuck me.”

“yeah?” he said, slowly, and slightly more raunchy than intended. “and how do you know my dick is good?” even more raunchy than he intended. he matched your stance, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across his chest. the tattoos covering his arm and bicep taunted you, making your panties pool with something hot.

jungkook knew he was a goddamn stud. he had every girl across campus lining up to try it for themselves. including most of your own friends. you sort of hated it, considering people would only get close to you to either fuck jungkook or your brother. most times you already knew why a girl was speaking to you, shit even most guys. you almost made business cards with mingyu and jungkook’s numbers on there just for people to leave you alone. however you weren’t this innocent little thing that jungkook and your brother made you out to be. you knew jungkook could make a girl come, you knew he could fuck. you’ve only ever heard good things. you’d rather hookup with someone who you knew was good rather than a random who you’d have to guess with and end up being wrong. yeah, that’s what it was. someone had to convince you that you weren’t the problem and he was perfect for the job. he knew how to navigate a body, from what you’ve heard.

you gulped. “i’ve just… i’ve heard things. and i’d rather it be you that makes me cum than another random.”

“what did you hear?”

“you’re asking so many questions yet still can’t answer my one and only for you?”

“jeon! get your ass in here!” a muffled voice called through all the laughter. the voice which could be identified as jaehyun’s made you and jungkook’s jump a total of ten feet apart. this conversation alone made him feel guilty although you were doing nothing wrong. you didn’t even realize how close you had been drifting to one another. but if anyone knew what obscene things were coming out of your mouth right now you’d both be screwed, so maybe he was guilty.

“look y/n… you know you can ask me for anything and i’ll give it to you, but this? no. one hundred percent no.” he hated to tell you no. he didn’t want to tell you no, but in this instance he had to deny your wants. it would be cutting it way too close. he didn’t live with you guys, but he was pretty much integrated into the family with how much he was there. your parents saw him as their son. he even saw your family as his own. although jungkook could never deny the attraction he’s felt for you while growing up and even today. so he couldn’t ruin you like that. you practically grew up together, he’s seen you through every phase of your life. including the one you were in now, at twenty one years old and in your wild college phase. he couldn’t be so ruthless and dirty with someone he holds at such a high regard. he could treat the daughter of his second family like that. what he did to women in bed was–

“is it really a no? or a not right now?” you still egged on, snapping him from his thoughts.

he said nothing. the silence between the both of you had been loud, raking your eyes across each other before jungkook tugged himself away and opened the door finally. you were out of sight now and no longer disturbing his being. he stepped over beer bottles and other miscellaneous items scattered across the floor as his friends welcomed him back with a loud uproar. he tried to enter back into the group and wipe his mind of that question you asked, but nothing worked. all he could think about was that cute pout on your lips while you begged him to fuck you. he just had zero shame huh, getting hard to the thought of you right in front of mingyu’s face.

so now jungkook had a problem. you were like an itch that he couldn’t scratch and it was now bleeding into his everyday activities. he couldn’t go anywhere he knew you’d be. which was with mingyu, in mingyu’s home, going to his and mingyu’s university. so now it was to where he was avoiding his own best friend. he couldn’t be in the same atmosphere with you right now. he didn’t know what would transpire if he was alone with you again, especially in that kitchen. that kitchen where he could bend you over that marble and show you how you were supposed to be pleasured. he couldn’t avoid you for long though, especially not when mingyu was blowing his phone up in the middle of his workout set.

he immediately dropped the weights, slamming them slightly to take the call. “what’s up?”

“you ignoring me kookie?” mingyu cooed through the speaker in a whine. “i miss you, who are you with? you’re fucking someone aren’t you? it’s serious?” mingyu went on and on like the possessive girlfriend he acted like.

it was actually the opposite. he was trying not to fuck someone.

“just studying for finals baby, you know i can’t get rid of you.” he played into it.

“better be,” he started again. “but hey… could you do me a favor and pick y/n up? she’s at some shitty frat party.” he started. by the sound of a girls laughter in the background, it was evident mingyu definitely could pick you up himself, if jihyo wasn’t with him. mingyu’s long term fuck buddy and borderline girlfriend. at least when they finally confessed their love for each other. is it really still friends with benefits if both of you haven’t been with anyone else in over a year, go on dates, and established that you’d kill the other if they did as much as look as another person? eh what did jungkook know though?

“and why can’t you?” mingyu could picture jungkook in his upset dad stance right now.

“because jihyo’s showing me something.” he murmured. jungkook wasn’t stupid. he heard her shuffle to her knees. “plus she’s uh– she’s closer to you, i checked her location.”

“yeah yeah i got her, can you just hang up, don’t wanna hear your ass getting head.” he joked while slipping his car keys into his sweats.

“whatever. anyways cod and beers soon? i miss you. pretty sure y/n does too.”

jungkook choked on his spit. “hell yeah, i’ll stay over for a bit after i grab her.”

the line went dead and jungkook mentally cursed himself for accepting this favor. now he had to last a whole car ride with you. jeon jungkook who fucked circles around girls couldn’t even trust himself to not cream his pants when sitting next to you. just perfect. when he pulled up in front of the party you were already standing outside and ready. your arms were wrapped around your body, occasionally pulling at your tiny dress when it would rise above your thighs. you could do nothing but smirk when you watched jungkook’s sleek car roll up on you. he rolled the window down, tipping his head back and gesturing you over to the car.

“well what a pleasant surprise.” you slurred. he leaned over and pulled the passenger side door open, watching you climb in. “where’s my brother? jihyo i’m guessing?” you loved jihyo personally. she was slowly integrated into your family more and more. not only was she good for your brother but fun to hang out with. at the end of the day your brother was a man, therefore he couldn’t tell that the woman wanted him in a way that wasn’t just being friends with benefits.

“where are you coming from?” he ignored your question. he scoffed even, looking you up and down and taking in the tiny dress you wore.

“a guy invited me to this party, he ended the night making out with some sorority bitch, i ended it at the drink table.” oh jungkook could tell.

“i keep telling you about these little boys y/n, they don’t know what to do with a woman.”

“okay… well it sounds like you do.”

“right.”

the alcohol was strong in your system, ready to start speaking for you. you made yourself comfortable, shifting your body towards him and giving him a look that was heightened by sin. he needed you to stop. to stop looking at him like that, fuck he needed you to stop looking like that. he could see you from the corner of his eye, batting your lashes, smiling drunkenly at him… at his strained cock. “so if i wasn’t mingyu’s sister? would you then?” your velvety voice asked. it was obvious you didn’t care, you never considered mingyu for a minute. you weren’t the one that would be in trouble here, you didn’t have anything to care about. there was something disgustingly hot about it. it was wrong and fucked up.

“would i do what?” he was just as wrong for making you tell him how you wanted him to take you. “got this dirty mouth all of a sudden so let me hear you say it.”

“you know… how you fuck all of those other girls.” you shrugged. “sloppy and raw, skin to skin and stuff.” your words went straight to his cock, hard and aching for a girl he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about like that. who the fuck told you this? who taught you this? you weren’t supposed to be coming to him with vulgar language, he was supposed to be filling you with it. someone had gotten to you first all because jungkook cared about hurting his best friend. and that was your example? sloppy and raw was nothing compared to how he’d fuck you.

“you know why we can’t do this?”

“i know why i just don’t care. my brother this, my brother that.” that mouth that you had on you? you were asking for it weren’t you? he’d been letting you off the hook too much recently. if you kept going at him like this he wouldn’t give a fuck about mingyu anymore, he’d show you exactly what he did to brats that think they’re high and mighty.

“right smart ass, but wrong.” he pulled up at a red light, the color bouncing off of both of you and painting your skin a lustful red. he turned to see you were already staring, at his lips, back to his eyes, then his prominent dick print that you just couldn’t pry your eyes from. “eyes up here.” he lifted your chin up with his finger, his finger that turned into the entirety of his hand being wrapped around your throat. “i know you won’t tell. but i respect your brother, i respect your family. get over this little crush that you have.”

get over him? get over him when he was touching you like this? you were melting, this felt surreal. this was surreal. it wasn’t a lot, just a hand around your throat but holy fuck his hand was around your fucking throat. the man you’ve been wet dreaming about for years. the man who derails your train of thought entirely when he’s around, the man who’s making your pussy drip on his seats and he fucking knows it. “jungkook..” you whimpered and pleaded. your body began grinding against his leather seats on its own. what a pathetic little slut, he didn’t even have to touch your achy parts to get you going. “i know you respect them, but i want you to disrespect me.”

“fuck.” his hand dropped when the light changed to green, speeding down the road to get you home. it took everything in him not to rip that thin excuse of a dress off and slap you around on his cock before then. “you need help right? let’s make that pussy cum.” his words moved without his thoughts. you nodded with need. this was it, this was finally it. he was going to touch you, take away all this built up ache from your needy cunt. he was going to wear you out and claim you as his. at least you thought. he smirked when he saw your expression. you looked at jungkook as if he built the pyramids, with so much wonder and hope.

“please koo, need it… n-need you.”

“i know pretty girl, i know.” he cooed. “can’t touch you, but you can.” he never said he couldn’t help you verbally. “go ahead, spread those legs and get started. want that nut before you get home?”

despite your disappointment you did as you were told immediately, sinking into the passenger seat and getting started on the place where all that liquor went anyways, your puffy clit. you rubbed through your underwear, head thrown back, toes curling and heels kicked off. all while jungkook kept his eyes on the road. he wanted to break that barrier, he wanted to plunge his fingers in that tight pussy but he knew once he touched you he’d need more. he’d need too much.

“pull ‘em to the side, no need to be shy. you know me.” his voice was like honey, dripping down your throat in corruptive goodness. it was so simple but so lewd, nothing like you’d ever done before. your sexual experiences were fairly vanilla, you weren’t used to the kinkier, more nasty side of sex. “do i have to do it for you?” he knew he shouldn’t overstep, but he needed to help you in another type of way. it was amusing to see how your body reacted when all he did was hook his fingers on your cute undies and pull them to the side. the cool air hit your clit, strings of slick stretching from your pussy and making your panties glisten.

“oh fuck-“ you whimpered. your legs were spread the farthest they could go. your knees were resting on your shoulders with your gooey pussy all warm and exposed for the man driving. jungkook had his left hand on the steering wheel, the right hand holding your soaked panties to the side. his knuckles brushed over your wetness and you jerked. “oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck– mhmmmm fuck…” you moaned, so pretty for him. you smacked your pussy around, a few harsh slaps coming in contact with the wetness and making a nice big mess.

“sloppy pussy, who knew lil gyu had such a sloppy little pussy?” you rolled your eyes at the nickname, the one you earned just for being related to mingyu. “fuck your fingers for me. let me see how deep you can go.” your fingers slipped in and instantly your hole puckered around them. your legs shook and that’s when jungkook knew he couldn’t take this any longer. he had to see his baby cum for him, not focus on a fucking road right now. he turned on his hazards and pulled over, parking and diverting his being all to you.

“wanna cum koo, wan’ your help…” your voice phased out and became muffled over the sound of your fingers moving faster inside of your cunt. the car filled with the pretty melody of your creamy pussy, gripping all on your fingers while you looked drunkenly at the cause for your sopping cunt. him.“touch me koo, we’re so far gone can you just– please…” this is what didn’t feel right. watching you play in your pussy without him. looking wasn’t hurting, so maybe a touch or two would be fine? if it was with his mouth it shouldn’t be too wrong. mingyu wasn’t even here for christ sake. you weren’t anything more than an incoherent mess of moans and wetness now. you needed him. jungkook promised mingyu he’d always be there for you. yeah, gyu would understand.

“your brother is going to fucking kill me.”

all you did was give him that brain dead giggle. god he really was screwed.

so jungkook decided to overstep one last time. after all a pussy kiss wouldn’t hurt, neither would a thumb on your wet, puffy clit. it was your little secret. something you could both be fucking killed for, but you had been so so good for him. so understanding and patient. “take those fingers out for me,” you obeyed, eyes widening when jungkook took your fingers into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around your digits and sucking yourself off. “juust like that baby, look at all that slick, all for me? all for your brothers best friend? tasting so fucking perfect.” he finished up, leaving your fingers clean. he was going to have so much fun with you.

jungkook leaned his body over the console, ducking down to face your pussy and diving in without wasting a second. your back arched off the seat and you clawed around for anything you could hold. he was so fucking ruthless. your mouth hung open, trying to process how good he was eating you. you deserved the pair of lips that were wrapped around your clit right now. suddenly a string of thank you’s were spilling from your mouth. for picking you up, for putting up with your mouth, for breaking his personal rules for himself and eating your pussy out, and for making you spill into his mouth after a few more licks, grinds to his tongue, and tugs to his hair.

you panted while he kept lapping at your pussy, making sure to clean up the mess he caused. you watched him with stars in your eyes, stroking his tossed hair and rubbing at his strong shoulders.

“why can’t i just tell you no.” he whispered against your clit, giving it another kiss before sealing you back up. “let’s get you home. bet you had a really long night of fucking with dudes that can’t make you cum.” there he was. arrogant as ever.

“you sound jealous.” you pulled your dress back down and over your thighs. jungkook watched for traffic before pulling back onto the road.

“jealous? that orgasm got you feeling gassed up now huh?”

“an orgasm i could have given myself, thank you.”

“an orgasm you begged me for.”

“when will you stop running your pussy munchers and just fuck me?” you pouted at him mockingly. the respect he had left you for was dwindling. he was probably going to take you up on that disrespect part. while he did get too close tonight, it still wouldn’t be that easy for him to betray his best friend. no matter how taunting you were, he wasn’t going to fuck you. as much as his dick was aching for you, it wasn’t happening, not yet. he pulled up outside of your house and walked you up to the door. he walked several feet behind with his hands stuffed in his pockets. if you were to ever get caught for this he would be the one making it too obvious.

once you pushed the door open both of you tip toed through the living room and into the kitchen. you flicked on the light and came face to face with a startled mingyu who was standing by the microwave, the light bouncing off of his face.“ kookie!” mingyu sprung up from his spot and engulfed his best friend in a hug. he was just slightly taller, so mingyu did suffocate him a bit. “missed your lil cute ass, jihyo’s upstairs too if you wanna say hi.”

“your sister is here too by the way.” you rolled your eyes and went for the stairs. you were ready to just hit your bed right now.

“oh yeah the one that i’ve seen every waking second of my life? and don’t pull anything like that again.” of course you couldn’t get away without getting scolded. “you’re lucky jungkook was able to grab you, you love going out on nights i make plans.”

“yeah sure, whatever. but thanks koo, for giving me a ride and all.” you said, underlying your words with a thanks to something else.

“anytime, you know i’ll always give you anything, when you need it.” in front of mingyu too? where did this bold side of him come from? you both locked eyes briefly, mingyu was busy pulling his food from the microwave. you looked away, dissolving the tension between you two and saving it for another time. meanwhile jungkook had been watching you walk up the stairs in that skimpy dress that wouldn’t stop rolling up your ass. your hand did little to cover it, very purposely at that. he only took his eyes away when you disappeared into your room with a slam of your door.

“thanks for getting her seriously,” mingyu shook jungkook from his trance. he held out two beers that he must have opened during jungkook’s staring contest with your pussy. “i’m just starting to hate when she goes out without us you know? this campus is getting too dangerous. i’m glad we live with our parents at least.” mingyu explained.

“i feel the same way, these guys are getting fucking weird.” jungkook sighed, taking a swig of the bottle.

“that, and the fact that jaehyun has been talking to her more, like around the house and shit when he’s here. it’s weird, he knows i hate that.” jaehyun was one of many in their friend group. but how every group had sub units to break off from it, jaehyun, jungkook, and mingyu had formed into their own little trio. it was weird, how he was all of a sudden asking shit like your favorite foods and movies. jungkook thought so too. you didn’t know him like that. they didn’t know why he was trying to get to know you like that.

mingyu made sure that you knew none of their friends, with exception of jungkook. he knew jungkook would never betray him in that sense. he listened to mingyu ramble on about how dead jaehyun was if he touched you, how he’d better pray for his life to be spared if he did as much as think about you.

“i don’t think jaehyun is that dumb. can’t be.” jungkook said sternly, yet with undertones of guilt.

“better not be. god i’d fucking kill him. anyone who tries to touch her i’ll– ugh, fuckin’ swear.”

he and jungkook raised their bottles at the same time, both taking long sips before resting them on the counters again.

masterlist

[pennyellee]

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬

a/n: welcome to my little reading corner! This post is my love letter to the fics and authors that stole my sleep, left me clutching my heart, or made me shed tears. These are the stories that left their mark on me last year. New or older, re-reads or first times. I hope you’ll find something here that speaks to you as deeply as it did to me. And if you have a recs to share or a favourite trope to gush about, my comment section is always open or jump here to tell me! Let’s keep celebrating the beautiful chaos of what this fandom can bring. Love you fairies. PS: I cannot wait to dive into the projects I have started on my own ♥

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @sailoryooons Namjoon x female reader; werewolf au - absolutely astonishing, amazing rendition of the trope, kept me in the world from beginning till the end, an unmissable gem; i've found it difficult to find good namjoon!werewolf content on this app for a long time and this just embodies everything and even more that I was hoping for.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @personasintro min yoongi x reader; zombie apocalypse au - I actually revisited this fic and it was just as perfect as when I read it the first time, heck, if I wasn't sucker for Min Yoongi then, this made me crush on that man even more.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @solecize jungkook x reader; friends to lovers, inspired by stardew valley - beautiful, beautiful and beautiful, cutest fic ever, i was rooting for them so much and I just might go and re-read this now as this was so touching to read.

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 & 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐛𝐲 @lostberet min yoongi x female reader; racer boyfriend; smut - HOT, HOT, HOT, did I say HOT?

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊! 𝐛𝐲 @lovieku fuckboy!jungkook x female reader; fwb - I actually re-read this today, or yesterday, whenever, depends on when I post this, and the way the narrative flows is so captivating, and I love me some miss grande inspired content, naturally fell in love with this fic

𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 @hollyhomburg polyamory bts x reader; omegaverse au, mafia au; dom-sub dynamics - like what do you mean that I cannot marry this fic, tsk, i want to, i need to, so many sleepless night because i just wanted know what happens next; to confess, i did avoid this fic, and now i can tell that this is just the kind that you avoid and avoid and then you're completely soft and fluffy for it. such complex themes being incorporated into the narrative in a way that's going to tight your aorta enough for you to cry and cry and then it will release and you'll feel the dopamine and excitement flowing through your body. bravo.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @ktownshizzle dad yoongi x teacher female reader - when i say that this fic slapped me you won't believe why, but it did. Cutest, emotional, and just so captivating to read. ps: capybara capybara capybara capybara capybaraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

𝐚𝐦𝐲𝐠𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐚 𝐛𝐲 @chaoticpuff17 yandere yoongi x named mc; mafia au - Becca the queen has always a way to characterize the shit out of her yandere male characters and MIN YOONGI is something here! I perceive this masterpiece as a good reinvention of fics with named MCs coz we gradually forgot about that it seems. Becca to the whitehouse pls!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐲 @angelicyoongie yandere ot7 x female reader; soulmate au - as someone whose academia expertise became the study of narratology, I propose this to be a new submission to the field because this narrative structure is illegally good. Excellently crafted, scenes are gradually built upon from chapter one till the very end, and the end makes your heartbeat faster and in unison the oc (ain't gonna spoil).

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @97kuu jungkook x reader; smut, friends to lovers au - car sex became underrated trope and we should all learn and f*cking worship this smut area, pleaaaseee, I love car sex smut, I need to read about it more often and this fic is just chef's kiss.

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐛𝐲 @hueseok jungkook x reader; inspired by purple hearts - since the movie came out I was waiting who will jump to do a fic with the boys inspired by it and this one did not disappoint. Remarkable, amazing rendition, and I wish I could read it again and again for the first time.

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @chaoticpuff17 yandere namjoon x female reader; mafia au, forced marriage - words will never be enough to talk about how this fic has my brain occupied for years. it holds a special place in my heart, as this was the first ever bts mafia fic i've ever read. hence, i am doing annual re-read. sometimes even several times a read. covid times were rough and i'm glad we all had something to hold space for at the time. this fic it is for me, a sanctuary, albeit its themes, and subsequently its sequel 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

until we meet again fairies. love, p.

[jungskaisen]

JIN — Love Yourself Tour: Poster Making Film

[keeryd]

Has this been done yet?

Anyway, for context: Kim SeokJin is a bts member, and bts got this lil YouTube show where they played games and stuff (which you can watch here if you wanna) and sometimes when they make teams, they name one Kim seokjin for the funsies, and usually the team with that name wins lol, it got luck!

[achillesthv]

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏soulmates . . . ? i mean

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

BTS 'Butter' Holiday Remix Choreo

Happy Holidays, Folks!

[minxmut-cafe]

HEXED HEARTS | part 1.

Pairing : Slytherin Jimin x Huffle puff Reader

Word count : 18k words

Authors note : I AM BACK!!! Ik it's been a LONG time since I posted LMAO but my exams are going on and I really need to focus lol. This had been in my requests for a long time lol. Also I haven't really watched Harry potter. So my apologies if there's something inaccurate in it. But I hope you enjoy it. ALSO this was originally supposed to be one part but it got too long T T. So it's now a 3 part story because of the word count limit.

PART 2 | PART 3

Warning : Smut, spell, mentions of poison, Sexual penetration, PWP, cunnilingus, intercourse, oral sex (F receiving), bullying, threats, enemies to lover???, masturbation, accidental voyeurism.

Synopsis :

Jimin, a cocky Slytherin, relentlessly bullies the sweet, naive little Hufflepuff. After accidentally hitting her with a charm, she becomes love-struck and overly vulnerable. Despite her efforts to hide it, her innocence makes her an easy target for his teasing and the manipulations of others, leaving her trapped in confusion and desire. In an attempt to revert her back to normal...things take an interesting turn.

__________________________________________________

Jimin leaned against the cold stone wall of the Hufflepuff common room entrance, his usual smug grin plastered on his face as he watched the young Hufflepuff girl approach. She was just about to pass him, her arms clutching a freshly bought butterbeer from the Hogwarts kitchen, when he blocked her path with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Got something for me, love?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he eyed the bottle in her hands.

The girl, her name was Y/N, tried to sidestep him, but Jimin’s other hand shot out, snatching the bottle from her grip effortlessly.

"Hey!" she squeaked, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. “Give it back!”

Jimin didn’t even flinch, instead, he raised the bottle just out of her reach, savoring the discomfort he was causing. "Oh? Why should I?" he taunted, eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle. "You’re so innocent, aren't you? Too sweet for your own good."

Y/N huffed, her breath shaky as she tried to stand her ground. She didn’t know what it was about him—how he could mock her so easily, take her things, laugh at her expense—and yet, she couldn’t ever seem to stay mad for long. There was something about him that made her heart race, even when she hated what he was doing to her.

Jimin saw the telltale flush creeping up her neck and smirked. Too easy. But then, an idea sparked in his mind. He flicked his wand again, just for fun, and whispered a quick incantation. A flash of light and—whoops—the charm hit her square in the chest.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, he noticed it.

Y/N blinked, her gaze locking on his, a soft, dazed look clouding her usually clear eyes. She bit her lip and swayed slightly, almost as though the world around her had lost its balance.

What the hell did I just do? Jimin thought, a cold shiver running down his spine. He’d only meant to play another prank, not... this.

"Y/N?" he asked, voice lower now, suddenly unsure of the situation.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her fingers tightened around the edges of her robes, and her breath came out in shallow bursts.

“Are you alright?” he pressed, though the devilish grin hadn’t left his face.

Y/N’s response wasn’t quite what he expected. She blinked at him again, as if seeing him for the first time, and said softly, “You’re... beautiful.”

Jimin’s smirk faltered.

He watched, almost fascinated, as she stumbled over her words, her hands fidgeting at her sides. Whatever he had done, it had affected her in ways he didn’t understand.

Well, this could be interesting.

But as she stood there, clearly confused by whatever magic had just altered her perception, Jimin couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

This is getting really interesting—Jimin's slow realization of how much he messed up, combined with his initial indifference, adds a lot of tension. Here’s how the next scene could play out:

Jimin had never thought much about the aftermath of his teasing. He’d throw a snide comment here, steal a butterbeer there—nothing too serious. The little Hufflepuff was easy to rile up, her reactions far too amusing for him to stop. But lately... something had changed.

Over the past few weeks, Y/N has become strange. More sensitive to his taunts, more flustered than usual. It was almost too easy now. A simple smirk in her direction had her stammering, and sometimes—Merlin forbid—she would look at him with wide, starry eyes, as if he had just saved her from a dragon instead of, say, hexing her quill to scribble nonsense on her parchment.

He didn't think much of it. Maybe she was just being her usual naive self. Maybe she was just going through a phase.

But then, the whispers started.

Jimin had always known she was an easy target—too trusting, too kind for her own good—but lately, people were taking more advantage of her than before. The usual teasing had shifted into something uglier. More cruel. A few times, he caught her looking startled when a group of boys brushed past her too closely in the halls, or freezing up when someone flicked their wand and sent her books tumbling.

Still, he ignored it.

At least, he did until that night.

Jimin had been heading back to his dorm, barely paying attention as he strolled through the dimly lit corridors of the castle. The halls were mostly empty—curfew was approaching—when something made him pause.

A soft sniffle.

He turned the corner, brows furrowing, and what he saw made his stomach clench.

Y/N. Sitting on the cold stone floor, knees drawn up to her chest, her hands curled weakly around them. Her robes were slightly disheveled, her usually bright expression replaced by something hollow. The candlelight flickered against her skin, highlighting the bruises on her knees, a few more scattered on her hands and calves.

Jimin didn’t move at first.

He wasn’t sure why he felt that sudden, uncomfortable pang in his chest, but it was there, unwelcome and nagging.

Y/N sniffled again, rubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

Jimin should have walked away. Should’ve pretended he didn’t see.

Instead, he exhaled sharply and took a step forward. "Oi."

She flinched, her head snapping up. For a second, her dazed eyes met his, and he saw it—the hesitation, the lingering effect of whatever stupid charm he had hit her with.

"...Jimin?" she whispered, blinking in confusion.

He clenched his jaw.

"Tch. What are you doing sitting on the floor like a pathetic little lost kitten?" he muttered, crouching down to her level. His voice was sharp, but his movements were careful.

Y/N swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze. "I—I just... tripped," she lied, a weak attempt at brushing it off.

Jimin's eyes flickered over her bruises. Liar.

For the first time in weeks, his teasing words didn’t come. His usual smirk felt foreign on his lips.

Because deep down, a part of him knew—this wasn’t just some random accident. And the worst part?

It was his fault.

Jimin stayed crouched in front of her, his usual smirk absent, replaced by something unreadable. His sharp eyes scanned the bruises on her skin, the way her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the fabric of her robe.

He clicked his tongue. "Who did this?"

Y/N blinked at him, eyes glassy from unshed tears.

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something firmer. "I’m serious, Y/N. Who? Was it those Ravenclaw pricks? Or was it Jeongmin again?"

She sniffled.

Jimin’s patience was wearing thin. He had seen the way people treated her lately—hell, he’d contributed to it—but even he had limits. This wasn’t just a bit of teasing anymore. Someone had hurt her.

“Y/N,” he pressed, a little softer this time, watching her lower lip wobble. “Tell me.”

Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her robes. Then, instead of answering, she let out a tiny, pitiful noise—half a sniffle, half a whimper—and pouted up at him, her wide eyes shimmering under the dim torchlight.

“Why is everyone so mean to me?”

Jimin froze.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He had been ready for a name, for a snarky excuse, maybe even a dismissive I’m fine. But this? This small, defeated question?

It made something in his chest twist—tight and unfamiliar.

Y/N sniffled again, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “I don’t—I don’t even do anything bad,” she hiccuped, voice cracking. "But—but they keep taking my things, and laughing, and—" she bit her lip, looking down. "Even when I say stop, they just laugh harder."

Jimin felt his fingers twitch.

For the first time, he actually looked at her. Not just as the gullible little Hufflepuff he loved to torment, not as the girl who got flustered too easily or tripped over her own feet.

But as someone who was genuinely hurting.

And the worst part? A good portion of that was his fault.

Jimin ran his tongue over his teeth, inhaling sharply. His pride wouldn’t let him soften completely, but for once, the usual amusement in his voice was gone when he muttered, "Tch. They’re idiots. They don’t know any better."

Y/N pouted harder. "But why?"

Jimin clenched his jaw. Why? Because you’re too trusting. Because you never fight back. Because you’re too soft for a school full of people who don’t deserve your kindness. Because—

Because I started it.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his robes.

"Come on," he muttered, holding a hand out.

She blinked up at him. "Huh?"

"You heard me, Hufflepuff. Get up."

She hesitated, but when she finally placed her smaller hand in his, Jimin was hit with a sudden warmth. He ignored it, gripping her wrist and tugging her up to her feet.

She wobbled slightly, her balance off, and before he could think, Jimin’s hands found her waist to steady her.

Too close.

His breath hitched. Y/N was staring up at him again, wide-eyed, lips parted in surprise.

For a second, Jimin forgot why he was supposed to be mad. Why he was even here. All he could focus on was the way her fingers were gripping his sleeve like he was something safe. Like she trusted him.

Like he wasn’t the reason she was like this in the first place.

His grip on her waist tightened before he quickly let go. "Tch. Stop looking at me like that," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Like what?" she sniffled.

He rolled his eyes, turning on his heel. "Never mind."

But as he walked away, jaw tight, he knew one thing for certain—

This was his mess to clean up.

Jimin wasn’t the type to lose sleep over guilt.

But that night, as he lay in his dorm, arms crossed behind his head, he found himself staring at the ceiling, replaying the way Y/N had sniffled up at him with wide, heartbroken eyes.

Why is everyone so mean to me?

He scowled, turning onto his side. Tch. Stupid girl.

Still, when morning came, Jimin found himself paying more attention than usual.

She was easy to spot—Hufflepuffs were loud, and her friend group had the energy of overeager puppies. But even as she chattered away with them, he could tell she wasn’t fully herself. Her movements were stiff, her usual sunshine-like warmth dimmed.

And she was still too damn trusting.

Jimin’s wand twitched in his sleeve as he watched from a distance. A small hex here, a charm there—little things. Subtle things. When she nearly walked into a swinging suit of armor, an invisible force nudged her just enough to avoid it. When a group of Ravenclaws whispered too loudly about her, their quills inexplicably snapped in half. And when one particularly brave Slytherin tried to jinx her from behind?

Well. Jimin had ways of making sure the hex rebounded.

He wasn’t sure what exactly had changed overnight. All he knew was that watching her flinch at every little thing left a bad taste in his mouth.

So, when lunchtime rolled around, and he caught sight of a certain someone sneering in Y/N’s direction, all thoughts of subtlety went out the window.

Jeongmin.

The arrogant bastard was lounging at the Ravenclaw table, shooting Y/N a knowing smirk while she hurried past him, clutching her books a little tighter.

Jimin tilted his head. Interesting.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he was paying attention, he saw it—the way Jeongmin’s friends elbowed each other, laughing under their breath. The way Y/N ducked her head, trying to disappear.

Jimin flexed his fingers. So, you’re the one.

He stood from his seat, rolling his shoulders lazily. He wasn’t impulsive per se—every move he made was calculated. But some things required creativity.

A hex would be too obvious. A fight? Too much paperwork.

No, if Jimin was going to deal with this, he’d do it the smart way.

The Slytherin way.

Later That Evening…

Jeongmin never saw it coming.

One minute, he was on his way back from the library, minding his own business. The next, the torches in the corridor flickered, and a chilling voice murmured from the shadows—

"Going somewhere, Jeongmin?"

The Ravenclaw barely had time to react before he was shoved—hard—against the cold stone wall.

Jimin leaned in, his wand pressing just under Jeongmin’s chin.

"Funny thing," he mused, voice eerily calm. "I heard something interesting today."

Jeongmin swallowed, trying—and failing—to push back. Jimin barely exerted any force, but the weight of his presence alone kept him pinned.

"I heard," Jimin continued, tilting his head, "that you’ve been running your mouth. That you’ve been having a little too much fun at someone else’s expense." His eyes gleamed in the dim torchlight. "That true?"

Jeongmin wet his lips. "I—I don’t know what you’re talking about—"

Jimin clicked his tongue. Wrong answer.

With a lazy flick of his wand, Jeongmin’s knees buckled, forcing him down.

"Try again," Jimin murmured.

Jeongmin gasped, but Jimin crouched, keeping their eye level dangerously close.

"You know," he continued conversationally, "there are certain spells that don’t leave a mark. No proof. No trace." He hummed, tapping his wand against his palm. "Ever heard of the Cold Shiver Hex? Makes it feel like insects are crawling under your skin for days."

Jeongmin’s breath hitched.

"Or the Whisper Curse? A tiny spell—nothing major. But it does make sure you hear the same voice in your head, over and over." Jimin smiled, slow and sharp. "My voice. Repeating one little word."

He leaned in. "Run."

Jeongmin trembled.

Jimin exhaled, letting the silence stretch.

Then, just as suddenly, he stood, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

"Stay," he drawled, stepping back. "Out of her way."

With one last, lingering glance, he turned on his heel, disappearing down the corridor.

Behind him, Jeongmin slumped against the wall, shaking.

Jimin didn’t look back.

But as he made his way toward the common room, a smirk finally tugged at his lips.

Messing with Y/N? Big mistake.

Y/N barely had time to register what was happening before she found herself being dragged through the corridors, her feet stumbling over the cold stone floor.

“Jimin—wait—!” she yelped, nearly tripping.

“Stop whining.”

“Where are we going?”

“The library.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

She puffed out her cheeks in protest, huffing as she tried to keep up. He had grabbed the back of her coat, practically hauling her along like a misbehaving cat.

“Why are you so grumpy today?” she mumbled, pouting. “You’re always mean, but today feels extra mean.”

Jimin’s eye twitched.

She was the one pouting? She was the one acting like he was being unreasonable? After all the absolute bullshit he had to clean up because of her ridiculous condition?

He inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm.

She wasn’t wrong, though. He was grumpy.

For one, he had spent half his day making sure no one dared to lay a hand on her again. And two, he was pissed at himself.

Because now that he was paying attention, the signs were obvious. The dazed, dreamy looks. The way she got flustered way too easily. How she stared at him all starry-eyed when he so much as breathed in her direction.

And the worst part?

This wasn’t normal.

Not for her.

Y/N was naturally soft, sure. But she wasn’t—or at least, she hadn’t always been—this stupidly, pathetically love-struck.

Which meant… he had caused this.

Somehow.

And that was why they were marching to the library.

Jimin threw her into a chair.

“Sit.”

Y/N let out a tiny squeak, blinking up at him in bewilderment. “You didn’t have to be so rough, you know.”

Jimin ignored her, already scanning the shelves for what he needed. His fingers skimmed the spines of several books—Obscure Charms and How to Break Them, Hexes, Curses, and Accidental Magic, The Unspoken Dangers of Misdirected Spells.

He pulled out three, dropping them onto the table with a thud.

Y/N flinched.

Jimin took a seat across from her, flipping open the first book.

“Alright,” he said, voice clipped. “You’re going to sit there and not whine while I figure out what the hell is wrong with you.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You. Are. Acting. Weird.”

“I am not!”

Jimin shot her a look.

She wilted. “…Okay, maybe a little.”

He scoffed. A little?

“A lot,” he corrected. “And considering the fact that I may or may not have hit you with an undetermined spell—”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“—we need to fix it before you do something stupid.”

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t do stupid things.”

Jimin gave her a flat look. “You almost walked straight into a cursed tapestry yesterday.”

“…Oh.”

He smirked. “Yeah. Oh.”

She fidgeted. “Well… maybe I am acting a little different,” she admitted, voice soft.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “A little? You’ve been looking at me like I personally hung the stars for the past two weeks.”

Y/N flushed. “I have not—!”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “You swooned when I insulted you.”

Y/N gasped. “I did not swoon!”

“You did.”

She buried her face in her hands, groaning. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, it’s bad.” Jimin flipped a page, scanning for anything useful.

Y/N peeked at him through her fingers. “W-What if…” she hesitated.

“What?”

“What if…” she fidgeted. “What if I like it?”

Jimin froze.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the book, staring at her like she had just grown a second head. “What.”

She squirmed under his stare. “I-I mean… it’s not that bad, right? It’s just a little crush—”

Jimin slammed the book shut.

“Nope.” He stood. “Nope. Absolutely not. We’re fixing this tonight.”

Y/N pouted. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I am not—” he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N. You don’t even like me.”

She blinked.

Jimin continued, voice strained. “Before this stupid charm, you hated me.”

Y/N hesitated. “I didn’t hate you…”

“Oh, really?” Jimin drawled. “So you enjoyed when I stole your butterbeer? When I relentlessly mocked you? When I made fun of you in front of the entire class?”

She bit her lip. “…No.”

Jimin pointed at her. “Exactly.”

Y/N slumped in her chair, deflating. “…Then what do we do?”

Jimin sighed, sitting back down. He flipped open another book, eyes scanning the pages.

“We figure out how to reverse it,” he muttered. “Before you start writing my name in hearts on your notebook.”

Y/N let out a tiny squeak, quickly shoving her notebook under the table.

Jimin’s eye twitched.

Merlin help me.

Jimin was trying to focus.

Really, he was.

But it was proving to be exceedingly difficult when Y/N was sitting across from him looking like an actual water nymph, her chin resting on her hands, lips pouting, legs kicking lazily under the table.

She wasn’t even doing anything. Just… being cute. Like it was effortless. Like it wasn’t completely ruining his concentration.

He flipped another page, trying to ignore the way she sighed dreamily, her fingers tracing aimless patterns on the table.

Merlin’s bloody beard.

It wasn’t helping that she kept staring at him, either. Not with her usual wary glances or that signature Hufflepuff softness. No—this was different.

This was… hungry.

Jimin froze.

Wait.

No. No way.

He narrowed his eyes at her, scrutinizing her expression.

Was that—was she looking at him like she wanted to eat him?

His stomach did a weird flip. He immediately shut that thought down.

No. Nope. No way in hell.

This was Y/N they were talking about. The same wide-eyed, Bambi-looking, butterbeer-loving Hufflepuff who probably cried over injured Bowtruckles.

There was no way she was—

Jimin shook his head. She doesn’t even know what horny is.

Right?

…Right?

His eye twitched.

He refused to entertain the thought.

With a deep sigh, he returned his attention to the book, doing his best to block out her utterly bewildering presence.

“Jimin,” she suddenly murmured.

He gritted his teeth. “What.”

She tilted her head. “Why do your hands look so nice?”

Jimin choked.

“What—?”

“They’re so veiny,” she mused, blinking owlishly. “I like them.”

Jimin snapped the book shut.

That was it. He was finding the cure

Jimin flicked her forehead.

“Ow—!” Y/N huffed, rubbing the spot as she pouted at him.

“Stop staring at me like that and help me find the damn spell,” Jimin scolded, flipping the book open again. “Or at least describe what you're feeling so I know what I’m fixing.”

Y/N blinked, looking up at him with big, thoughtful eyes. She opened her mouth, then hesitated.

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

She fidgeted. “Um…”

He sighed impatiently. “Spit it out, Bambi.”

Y/N’s lips wobbled. “I-It’s just… my heart feels like it’s gonna explode, and there’s butterflies, and my knees feel all weak and wobbly, and—and—”

She swallowed, face heating.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “And?”

Y/N squirmed, avoiding his gaze.

“…T-Tingles.”

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “Tingles?”

She gave a tiny nod.

He frowned. “Where?”

Silence.

Jimin watched as she slowly, very suspiciously, started sinking lower in her chair, face turning redder and redder.

Realization hit him like a Bludger to the chest.

Oh.

Oh, fuck no.

Jimin slammed the book shut.

“We are fixing this right now.”

Y/N jumped at the slam of the book, her already wobbly knees knocking against the chair legs.

Jimin glared at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "You're telling me—" he sucked in a sharp breath, "—that I hit you with some random-ass charm that makes you all soft and useless and, and—" His eyes flicked down at her shifting thighs before darting back up. "Tingly?"

Y/N swallowed hard. "W-Well, I wouldn’t say useless…"

Jimin gave her the flattest look.

She fidgeted under his stare, nervously playing with her sleeves. "I just… I feel warm all the time, and everyone seems so much meaner lately, and I don’t know, Jimin, my head's all fuzzy, and my body is—"

"Okay, stop!" he hissed, holding up a hand. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply like he needed patience from the heavens above.

Y/N pursed her lips, eyes glistening. "Why are you mad at me?" she mumbled.

Jimin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I’m not mad at you,” he gritted out. "I'm mad at my own dumbass for hitting you with whatever the hell this is."

Y/N blinked. "Oh."

Then, very softly—"You're not a dumbass."

Jimin’s eye twitched. He shot her a sharp look, only to find her staring at him all dotingly again, her lashes fluttering, her lips slightly parted like he was the most dazzling thing she'd ever seen.

Merlin’s bloody socks.

He had to fix this. Now.

Jimin abruptly stood, yanking his tie loose. "Alright, come on."

Y/N blinked in confusion as he grabbed her coat and dragged her out of her chair.

"Jimin—"

"We're finding this spell and reversing it," he grumbled, tugging her toward the Restricted Section.

Y/N stumbled behind him, half-tripping over her own feet. "Wait—"

"Not waiting, Bambi."

"But—"

"Not but-ing either."

Y/N let out a small, defeated whimper as he marched her through the aisles, her little feet barely keeping up.

Jimin, on the other hand, was fighting for his life to ignore the way she was pouting up at him, her fingers clutching his sleeve like some lost little fawn.

He clenched his jaw.

This spell had to go.

Immediately.

Jimin’s fingers tightened around the book.

His eyes scanned the page once, twice—then a third time just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Aquire the object of your desire.

The words stared mockingly back at him.

His throat went dry. "No way."

Y/N, still swaying slightly beside him, tilted her head. "What does it say?"

Jimin didn’t answer. His mind was racing.

It wasn’t a love spell.

Not some stupid, artificial enchantment forcing her feelings. Not some external force turning her into a love-drunk fool.

It was an amplifier.

The charm didn't create her feelings—it just intensified what was already there.

Jimin sat back, the realization hitting him like a goddamn truck.

Jimin stared at the book. Then at Y/N. Then back at the book.

His brain was short-circuiting.

The charm was an amplifier. It only enhanced feelings that were already there.

Which meant—

She’d already felt like this before.

The stolen glances, the nervous fidgeting, the way she melted when he so much as breathed in her direction. The way she looked at him now—

Like she wanted to devour him.

Jimin swallowed, jaw tightening.

There was only one way to fix this.

He shut the book with an audible thud.

Y/N blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Did you find the cure?”

Jimin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah."

She perked up. "Oh! What is it?"

He turned to her, looking her over slowly—her flushed cheeks, the way she was still swaying slightly, her pupils way too dilated for her own good.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"Well…" he drawled.

Y/N tilted her head. "Well…?"

Jimin leaned in, his voice low and unbelievably smug.

“We’ll have to fuck it out.”

Y/N froze.

Silence.

Absolute, earth-shattering silence.

Then—

"WHAT—?"

Y/N’s entire body seized up.

Her breath hitched, eyes widening to the size of saucers. "E-EXCUSE ME?!"

Jimin leaned back against the table, crossing his arms lazily. “You heard me, Bambi.”

Her mouth opened—then closed—then opened again, but no words came out. Her face burned so hot, she swore she was about to spontaneously combust.

Jimin, on the other hand, looked far too pleased with himself. He tilted his head, watching her with a lazy smirk. “I mean, unless you wanna stay like this forever—getting all weak and breathless every time I so much as look at you.”

Y/N whimpered.

Jimin chuckled, low and deep. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Her hands flew to her face, her brain scrambling to process what was happening. “T-That can’t be the only way—”

Jimin shrugged. “It’s the fastest way.”

She gawked at him.

He grinned. “What? You’d rather wait weeks for the effects to wear off?” He leaned in again, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Or do you wanna fix this tonight?”

Y/N squeaked.

Jimin chuckled again, dark and satisfied. He loved this. Loved watching her squirm, loved how her breathing quickened when he got too close.

And now that he knew she wanted him?

Oh, he was going to have fun with this.

“So?” he purred. “What’s it gonna be, Bambi?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. Her whole body buzzed—with heat, with want, with something overwhelming—but underneath it all, a small, quiet voice whispered: Not yet.

She didn’t know why.

Jimin was right. This was the fastest way to get rid of the spell. She wanted him—hell, the spell made sure of that—but something in her gut twisted at the idea of just… giving in like that.

She wasn’t ready.

Not like this.

Y/N licked her lips, her gaze flickering away. “I… I think I’ll wait.”

Silence.

When she finally dared to look at him, Jimin was just… staring.

Brows slightly furrowed. Lips parted just the tiniest bit. Like she had just spoken in Parseltongue and he couldn’t understand a damn word she’d said.

"You’ll what?"

Y/N felt her chest tighten. “I’ll wait. Until it wears off.”

Jimin’s head tilted. He genuinely looked confused. “Wait.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Even though you’re, like, two seconds away from melting whenever I so much as breathe near you?”

Y/N whimpered, looking away again. “Y-Yes.”

Jimin blinked, then scoffed. “That’s stupid.”

She frowned. “It’s not!”

He let out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re miserable, Bambi! I see it! You can barely focus, you freeze when someone so much as bumps into you, you can’t even look at me without turning into a puddle!” He gestured at her with both hands. “This is your chance to fix it!”

Y/N flinched.

Jimin stopped.

The frustration in his eyes faltered for just a second.

Then—

Y/N abruptly scampered away.

Jimin didn’t even have time to react. She shot up from her chair, mumbling something about needing to study or sleep or something before she practically ran out of the library.

Jimin was left standing there, staring at the empty space she left behind.

His jaw clenched.

What the fuck just happened?

Jimin wasn't having it.

The moment Y/N ran off, something inside him snapped.

He wasn’t even thinking—his feet just moved, following her out of the library, down the dimly lit corridors, ignoring the ridiculous pounding in his chest.

By the time he caught up to her, she was halfway to the Hufflepuff dorms, walking with her head down, her arms hugged tight around herself.

Jimin grabbed her wrist. “Hey—”

Y/N jumped, eyes wide as she spun around.

“Jimin—”

He exhaled sharply, scanning her face. "What’s wrong?"

Y/N’s lips parted slightly. "I—I told you, I just want to w-wait—”

Jimin’s jaw tightened. "Yeah, and that’s bullshit. You’re burning up, you can barely look at me without your knees buckling, and yet you ran the moment I gave you an actual solution."

She flinched, gaze darting away.

Jimin took a step closer. "So what is it? What’s stopping you?"

Y/N inhaled shakily. She bit her lip, as if debating whether to say anything at all.

Then, finally—

“…Don’t get mad.”

Jimin stiffened.

Something about the way she said it—soft, hesitant, like she was genuinely afraid of his reaction—made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

He swallowed, forcing himself to nod. “I won’t.”

Y/N hesitated for a long moment. Then, she sighed.

“…I do have feelings for you.”

Jimin’s breath caught.

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, lips trembling. "And, yeah, I’m all… hot and bothered and it’s so embarrassing, but…"

She fidgeted with the sleeves of her robe.

"You’ve always been mean to me, Jimin." Her voice was quiet. "You tease me, you steal my stuff, you embarrass me in front of everyone. You’ve never been nice to me before. So how am I supposed to trust that after we… you know… you won’t just go back to treating me like a joke?"

Jimin froze.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

Because fuck.

He hadn’t thought about that.

Jimin stared at her.

For the first time in his life, he was completely speechless.

Because—fuck—she was right.

He had been mean to her. He had bullied her. He had made her life at Hogwarts miserable whenever he got the chance.

So why the fuck should she trust him now?

His fingers twitched around her wrist, his grip loosening.

Y/N bit her lip, gaze dropping to the floor. “…See?” she whispered. “You can’t even deny it.”

Jimin’s chest tightened.

His mind raced, searching for something—anything—to say, but for once, his usual sharp tongue failed him.

And then, before he could even try to stop her, she gently pulled her wrist from his grasp and took a step back.

"I need to go." Her voice wavered, but her expression was set. "Please don’t follow me this time."

Jimin didn’t move.

He just stood there, watching as she turned away—her shoulders slumped, her steps small and unsure, her hand brushing against the wall as if she needed to steady herself.

He clenched his jaw.

Something ugly clawed at his chest.

The same feeling he got when he saw her with those assholes. When he saw her bruised and sniffly and small.

He hated that feeling.

And he hated even more that he was the reason she looked like that now.

Jimin exhaled sharply through his nose, his hands clenching into fists.

Fine.

She wanted him to prove he wasn’t the same asshole who had tormented her for years?

Then he fucking would.

Jimin stood there, his chest tight, mind spiraling. The further Y/N walked away from him, the more the words rattled in his brain.

You’ve always been mean to me, Jimin.

He clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

Fuck.

He had always known he was a bit of an asshole. He liked pushing people, making them squirm, seeing how far he could go before they cracked. But with her?

It was different.

Something about her made him… possessive.

He wasn’t proud of it, but it was true.

Sure, he bullied her, mocked her, made her life hell—because she was fun to mess with. She was soft, sweet, and naive, too easy to rile up. He loved how she’d get flustered, how her cheeks would heat up when he teased her.

But there was always this little something that lingered under the surface. The moments he couldn’t explain away.

Like that time in third year when he saw some idiot bump into her in the hallway and she dropped her books. He’d been about to walk away, but when she bent down to pick them up, the way the guy looked at her—hungrily—made his blood boil.

He remembered stepping in, elbowing the guy aside with a sharp glare, picking up her books for her, all without a second thought.

And there was the time when he noticed her limping after a quidditch match, her ankle twisted. He’d called her a “freaking idiot” but then cursed under his breath and healed her leg, making sure to be extra gentle as his fingers brushed against her skin.

He'd never said anything, but it bugged him. Every time she looked at him, she saw him as a monster, a bully.

But deep down, he always felt this strange protectiveness. Like no one else was allowed to touch her, to hurt her.

Only he was allowed to hurt her.

And now, realizing the weight of those little moments, he felt it, really felt it.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He had been pushing her away, tormenting her for what? For fun?

A sick feeling churned in his stomach. He wasn’t the same person he used to be, but fuck if he wasn’t still a huge part of the problem.

He cursed himself again.

She’d given him the perfect chance to fix this, to make it right, and instead, he’d acted like a goddamn asshole.

He glanced back toward the direction she’d gone, his hands trembling with frustration.

Jimin ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. No more. He wasn’t going to let her slip away again.

He wasn’t sure what exactly it was yet—whether it was the spell or just how real everything felt now—but he knew this:

He wasn’t done with her. And if he had to destroy his own pride to prove it, then so be it.

CONTINUATION | PART 2

[marxy-06]

Favorites Rec List 3

More of my favs -> Thanks to all these incredible writers for making my day a little better :))

Kim Namjoon

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

A little bit in love with you (@joonbo)

Mr. masseuse (@lavenjoon)

"Let me take care of you" (@mintelepathy)

Fantasies (@sweetwritertanya)

Kim Seokjin

24/7 Marriage counselor (@jimlingss)

A better grip (@jinkookspencil)

A helping hand (@jjungkookislife)

You again (@gashinabts)

Soarin' (@aquagustd)

Seokjin's ho ho ho (@yoongsisbae)

Jealous (@youtifulhobi)

Sacrifices (@justcallmenikki7)

Influence (@aquagustd)

Min Yoongi

Back burner (@yoonpobs)

Escapism (@yoonlattesworld)

Finding home (@helenazbmrskai)

Strawberry icecream (@euphoricfilter)

When I needed you (@dreamescapeswriting)

The cockpile: love birds (@httpjeon)

Crescendo (@ugh-yoongi)

Apricity (@delightfulserendipity)

Jung Hoseok

All it takes (@yoongiofmine)

Nibbling it (@jjksblackgf)

The promises we keep (@vyduan)

Your body is an artwork (@borathae)

Maybe the first, but not the last time (@euphoricfilter)

Park Jimin

Oh so reluctant (@back2bluesidex)

Pretty like you (@axigailxo)

Serendipity (@angellesword)

Blowing dandelions (@httpjeon)

All I need (@joonberriess)

Apricot (@vminity21)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Star light, star bright (@readyplayerhobi)

High school sweethearts (@choiwrites)

Taste of little (@maliby)

Cherry king (@jiminrings)

Turning to stone (@jjungkookislife)

He makes you insecure (@kookiesbuckethat)

Kim Taehyung

The art of touch (@chateautae)

Nude (@btssmutgalore)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Match made in heaven (@beenbaanbuun)

"I'll take care of you" (@guqwrvte)

Library kisses (@kwanslvr)

Jeon Jungkook

Way Back Home (@solemnreads)

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

Seven Days (@bonny-kookoo)

Jock!jungkook (@joonberriess)

Tracing your tattoos (@btsugarush)

Shades of red (@thatlongspringnight)

Pu$$y fairy (@angelguk)

Idealizations concerning real life relations (@venusiangguk)

Little blue pill (@dreamescapeswriting)

Brown eyed baby (@jeonstudios)

Superstar (@jinkookspencil)

Spicy n' sweet (@thvhoe)

The ability to fathom (@hanniwrites)

Bad omega, sweet omega (@helenazbmrskai)

"I couldn't live without you" (@jungk0oksthighs)

In my eyes (@axigailxo)

"Besties for the resties?" (@jessikahathaway)

You're leaving me (@delukoo)

Love; weakness (@akinnie75)

Bloodline (@jjkeverlast)

Greek god (@bonny-kookoo)

Size kink (@lavenjoon)

Ex on the beach (@beahae)

Off-league (@hansolmates)

Accidental roommates (@jjkeverlast)

Good girl (@bonny-kookoo)

Crazy (@kookiecrumb)

Curious boy (@jinkookspencil)

Confident (@h0neypjm)

Still perfect (@cupoftaae)

OT7

Trouvaille (@spookyserenades)

A comforting hand (@purpleyoonn)

Abundance (@angelicyoongie)

Appreciation (@vminizzle)

Reaction: faking orgasms (@dreamescapeswriting)

Mean kitty, soft kitty (@purpleyoonn)

Best of us (@bts-trash-blog)

You belong (@imnotlauriane)

(If you have any recs pls share, especially for Hobi, Jin, & Rm :))

[btsiu]

JIN ‘I'll Be There’ MV (2024)