#Jimin is my baby and I miss him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

euphorajeon · 9 months ago

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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

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joonberriess · 2 months ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚 . . .

𓊆ྀི 𝓝amjoon 𓊇ྀི

SUGAR 10.8k

navigating life with your sweet boyfriend—alternatively a collection of soft moments in this slice of life au.

BAD GUY 2.7k

your (ex)-boyfriend thinks he can get away with cheating, so you fuck his dad as revenge. ‘might seduce your dad type,’

JUICY 1.5k

you love how big your boyfriend’s getting, the size difference goes crazy.

FREAK 1.8k

hoseok’s wondering why his bandmate’s sweet, precious girlfriend is missing from his release party.

ME AND YOUR MAMA 3.6k

another slice of life story that tells the tale of how you and your boyfriend welcomed your little one into the world.

𓊆ྀི 𝓢eokjin 𓊇ྀི

coming soon.

𓊆ྀི 𝓨oongi 𓊇ྀི

ANGEL 7k

yoongi’s got a soft spot for his sweet girlfriend—or, behind the scenes with your boyfriend.

WHAT’S POPPIN 1.7k

yoongi being the type to buy his girl a chain cause if he’s iced out, so is she.

DEVIL 1.5k

you’re just the pretty little staff member he wants to corrupt and defile, a alternate universe of angel.

SHINUNOGA E-WA 1.9k

four times you said ‘I love you’, plus the one time you didn’t.

“BABY” 1.3k

you put your reputation on the line by getting fucked in the backseat of your senior’s car.

𓊆ྀི 𝓗oseok 𓊇ྀི

NDA 1.2k

you’re one of the lucky fans hoseok notices at lollapalooza.

𓊆ྀི 𝓙imin 𓊇ྀི

ALL I NEED 1.7k

watching the sunset with your boyfriend’s head between your thighs on a late afternoon.

WANT 1.1k

forget the movie, jimin’s got other plans.

𓊆ྀི 𝓣aehyung 𓊇ྀི

GROUPIE LOVE 4.8k

you get picked from the crowd during PTD LA, and tae’s all yours for the night.

SEX TALK 6.1k

you’re fucking two hotties on the low without realizing they’re roommates..

MANEATER 2.9k

imagine pissing off your hot, older sugar daddy?

EAT MY LOVE 2k

tae wakes you up in the middle of the night for some sleepy, lazy fun.

CAPTAIN HOOK 6.3k

there may or may not be (one sided) feelings involved with your hook-up.

ECOUTE CHERIE 1.3k

soft nights in paris.

THROAT GOAT 1.1k

a late-night hookup with tae in the backseat of his car.

𓊆ྀི 𝓙ungkook 𓊇ྀི

BIG OL FREAK 2k

he’s not good for you but you can’t bring yourself to really care.

SEX TALK 6.1k

you’re fucking two hotties on the low without realizing they’re roommates..

TODAS MUEREN POR MI 3.5k

a bittersweet fantasy with your boxer boyfriend.

SLUT ME OUT 1.9k

you find out just how hungry your boyfriend is in the morning.

KEROSENE 15k

your student takes a dark interest in you, raising the stakes and leaving you utterly helpless.

THE BOY IS MINE 6.2k

your best friend and you have zero boundaries.

DO I WANNA KNOW 19.8k

your ex is relentless in his pursuit, all in the name of love.

AGORA HILLS 1.9k

“grunge bf lets cute gf ride him,”

3D 3.2k

pics and videos don’t do you justice.

NEED TO KNOW 3.3k

it’s your birthday and your boss is feeling generous tonight.

ESPRESSO 14.6k

a rowdy boxer and the pretty it-girl he bagged by being him. jungkook’s doing anything to prove he’s serious, even if it means making a fool outta himself.

ཐི⋆FLAWLESS SERIES⋆ཋྀ

you never meant for it to go this far, much less with your best friend’s dad of all people. throw a baby in the mix? lies are told, secrets revealed forcing you to face the consequences of your actions—together.

DADDY ISSUES 2.4k

how you met jungkook.

FLAWLESS 3.4k

things were always complicated.

2. everything falls apart.

3. a look into the past.

RODEO 1.9k

you show him just how you ride it.

LOVIN’ YOU 3.5k

celebrating your anniversary in the future!

ཐི⋆JOCK!JK SERIES⋆ཋྀ

what do you get when you throw a pretty bimbo and her jock bf together? sex, sex, more sex, and then marriage; or, a series of events as they navigate life together.

𓆩♡𓆪 the intro.

𓆩♡𓆪 jungkook works you out with you.

𓆩♡𓆪 you want to put sprinkles on it.

𓆩♡𓆪 he plays his game and then some.

𓆩♡𓆪 you hate condoms.

𓆩♡𓆪 he’s a munch.

𓆩♡𓆪 you meet his friend, yoongi.

𓆩♡𓆪 a roommate’s (jennie’s) dilemma.

𓆩♡𓆪 the future!

𓆩♡𓆪 daddy’s father’s day special.

𓆩♡𓆪 seven days with jungkook.

𓆩♡𓆪 the origin story.

ཐི⋆BABY DADDY SERIES⋆ཋྀ

life with (your) annoying, frustratingly handsome baby daddy who won’t leave you alone and your sweet baby who can’t stop asking why you call his dad ‘deadbeat’.

SEVEN 5.5k

another day, another headache with him.

PUSSY FAIRY 2.6k

sometimes moms need to unwind too.

MALIBU 3.3k

the past: his birthday.

STANDING NEXT TO YOU 6.9k

feelings get talked about.

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zeroclockk · 2 months ago

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—⋆˙⟡ Guilty

——— ⋆˙⟡

Jungkook barely spends any time with you lately, but tonight is dinner night. I put all the effort into making his dinner, only to end up on the sofa watching TV.

Pair: jjk x fem reader, idol, absent boyfriend, fluff

Word count: 1,4k || oneshot

Nini’s library

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

He’s always busy, so damn busy. Sometimes he doesn’t even bother coming back to the apartment, figures it’s too late and just heads to his own place. He doesn’t want to be so busy, he doesn’t want to keep me a secret. but he has to…

Tonight, he promised me, though. Tonight we’d have dinner. So, it’s ready; his favorite pizza. The table is set, a candle lit. I put everything into this, trying my absolute best.

I made the pizza from scratch. the dough, the sauce, everything. It took me all day, but I wanted to do something special. I haven’t seen him in two weeks, and it feels like ages. All I want is a romantic night with him. I even cut the pepperonis into little hearts and set it on the table with a bottle of wine.

I dressed for the occasion, too. hair and makeup neatly done, a white fitted dress with lace and spaghetti straps. Paired with white socks, hidden beneath. Jazz music playing softly in the background, it’s all perfect.

I’d thought about baking cookies too, but that seemed like a little too much. So instead, I bought sweet corn ice cream, knowing he’d like it just as much.

He was supposed to be here by 6:30, but I figured with traffic he might be a little late. But eventually, the clock strikes 8 p.m. Can being an hour and a half late still be justified?

I take the bottle of red wine —along with a glass— and move to the couch, nearly downing the whole bottle while watching some random TV show. I don’t even notice when I drift off to sleep, half-drunken from all the wine.

I don’t notice it when he finally unlocks the front door, sighing as he stands in the doorway. He looks over, seeing me sprawled on the sofa, cheek resting on my arm. The bottle of wine sits on the coffee table, the empty glass still loosely tangled between my fingers.

The food remains untouched on the table, and the candle has burned itself out. He feels so guilty.

He walks over to the couch and crouches down in front of me, gently taking the wine glass from my fingers and placing it beside the nearly empty bottle.

“Hi, baby,” he says, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

My eyes flutter open slowly.

“Jungkook? W-what time is it?”

He lets out another sigh. “It’s… it’s 1:20 a.m.”

I sit up, knees to his chest, head down, trying my best not to tear up.

“You’re late.” I avoid his face, not wanting to look at him and feel sadder.

“I know, I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he says, stroking my hair, his voice low and apologetic.

“You were with Jimin, weren’t you?”

“What? How’d you know?”

“C’mon, Koo… I can smell the whiskey on you.”

I stand up from the sofa and walk to the kitchen table, slowly putting the unused dishes back in the cabinets.

He follows behind me, keeping just a little distance.

“You made this?” he asks, looking at the pizza on the table.

I rest my hands on the counter and sigh. “Yeah… I, uhm, I spent all day making the dough and the sauce, and I—” My voice trails off, tears filling my eyes.

He steps behind me, gently pulling my arm and wrapping me in his. He kisses the top of my head, whispering apologies.

“I’m so sorry, baby…”

I can’t hold back my tears any longer and start sobbing softly into his chest.

“I miss you. I miss my boyfriend.”

Even though he knows it’s his fault, his heart aches with guilt. He just holds me, letting me cry out my frustrations.

“How can I make it up to you, baby?”

“I just want a boyfriend who’s here. Someone who can hold me at night, who I can have dinner with, who makes me feel loved.”

I still don’t look at his face, I know my heart would forgive him for anything if I did.

“I shouldn’t have gone with Jimin, baby. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I chose to go,” he says.

“It’s not just this, Koo. I haven’t seen you in two weeks, and on the night we planned a date, you just didn’t show up.” I pause, still not looking at him.

“I feel silly. I made you dinner, put on this silly outfit, and…” My sentence breaks into a sob, trying my best to keep it together.

“You look gorgeous, baby. It’s not silly. I’m an idiot for not showing up. I’ll never do it again. I’ll never be late again, I promise.”

“I love you…” I whisper against his chest. I’ve never said that to him before, and it hurts to admit it now.

He lifts my chin, and for the first time tonight, my eyes meet his. His big, brown, boba eyes staring back at me.

“You really mean that?”

I bury my head back into his chest, sobbing.

“I love you too, baby, so much.”

It hurts to hear, but I also feel a sense relief. How can you love someone and treat them like this?

“I want to feel like you do. I want to feel like I’m your number one.”

He cups my cheek, gently lifting my face to his.

“Baby, I’ll make that happen. I’m going to make you feel like the most spoiled girlfriend alive. There won’t be a moment in your day when you don’t know how much I’m obsessed with you. I’ll treat you the way I should’ve all along.”

I roll my eyes, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Gosh, I hate you.”

He chuckles, giving me a soft kiss, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away. I melt into the kiss. I know I’m a fool for choosing him again and again, but maybe this time he’ll really change. He’s never made such a promise and not done it, besides not showing up. My heart wouldn’t survive moving on from him, and I think he knows that, too.

“C’mon,” he says, guiding me to a chair at the table. He reheats the pizza in the microwave and lights a new candle. The wax from the first one has pooled on the table; he’ll have to clean that up for me.

He places the pizza back on the table and sits across from me, taking a slice.

“It’s delicious, baby. The best pizza I’ve ever had.”

With barely any appetite left, I take a bite. It’s good, I guess. I’m not one to compliment my own food, but he’s enjoying it, and that’s all that matters to me.

His hair is fluffy, and he’s dressed comfortably in a black shirt and jeans. My eyes are stuck on him, unable to focus on anything else, he looks so beautiful. It’s hard to believe he’s my boyfriend, sometimes it feels like he’s really not.

“I’ll talk to the agency tomorrow.” He then says.

“Huh? What?” I snap out of my thoughts.

“I’ll talk to the agency tomorrow,” he repeats. I don’t understand why, and he seems to catch onto my confusion.

“I can see it on your face… You want people to know, right?”

“You mean going public?” It’s what I’ve dreamt of, but I never thought he’d take it seriously. Some other idols date publicly, but I never thought he’d be one of those.

“Yeah. I mean, it has to happen sometime, right? I don’t think people would like it if I suddenly showed up married one day.”

“Married?!”

“What? You’re not dating me for that?”

I’m a stuttering mess, honestly. As a hopeless romantic, of course I dream of marriage. But right now, I don’t know what to say—it’s all happening too fast.

“I love you, baby, more than anything. I can’t picture my future without you. I’ll talk to the agency tomorrow about going public, slowly.”

He walks over to my side of the table, with half of the pizza left. He leans over, kissing me gently on the forehead.

“You look gorgeous, baby. I’m sorry I ruined tonight,” he whispers, pulling me for another kiss.

I don’t know what I’d do without him.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfction #jjk #bts jungkook #fanfic writing #fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine

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caramelkoo · 3 months ago

Text

be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying.

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that.

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe.

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can.

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook.

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves.

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?”

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.”

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die.

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?”

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.”

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office”

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys.

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something”

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity.

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?”

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night”

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating?

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about”

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry”

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something.

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee.

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it?

“It was uh okay”

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones.

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that.

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)

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cheeseceli · 5 months ago

Text

Your nephew is jealous of him

Pairing: ot7 BTS × Gn! reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reactions, a bit of crack

Request: when they try to get close to the reader, their toddler niece/nephew won't let them. The baby is really possessive of y/n and doesn't like anyone touching them.

Warnings: some of them are almost fighting with the kids lmao; that's it.

A/n: this was actually so fun lmao | daily click

Jin

‌oh so this is his first trial to prove himself as boyfriend material, he sees

‌he's ready

‌will try to befriend your niece

‌is actually trying to enchant her and be like "hey I'm nice too :D"

‌and honestly it's working?

‌of course it is, bro is doing everything the little girl asks of him 😭

‌but his goal is not to steal you from your niece

‌is to steal your niece from you

‌being liked by the family ✔️

having a chance of being invited on next hangouts ✔️

impressing you by showing he's good with kids ✔️

‌he's so winning

Suga

‌he's honestly a bit confused

‌because why can't he be even three meters near you??

‌at first he thought the kid wanted to play with you or just missed you

‌but then he noticed the problem was him 💀

‌your nephew just low-key hates him

‌and actually, Yoongi ain't doing anything to change his mind

‌he's just chilling as far from you as possible

‌just so the kid doesn't make a scene

‌and when you laugh at him and try to get closer saying "it's okay"

‌he's like "please don't come any closer your nephew will attack me-"

‌kid 1, suga 0

J-hope

‌he thought it was funny

‌cute even

‌it was good to know kids liked you

‌that could only mean you were a very good person right?

‌well, now Hobi is the one who's almost becoming a bad person 💀

‌he can't handle your niece trying to take him away from you every. single. time

‌like hey, I like them too??

‌he's trying to either bribe her or just straight up calling her mother to take her away

‌"that's not mature" he doesn't care that much atp

‌he just wants a second with you without a kid screaming at him

Namjoon

‌he truly is trying to be the bigger person

‌he knows he is the adult and your nephew is just a little kid

‌but he is about to start beef with this child

‌he tried his best, but now he's just stressing😭

‌he really thought he could use this opportunity to get closer to your family but that's just too much

‌tries to leave you and the kid for a while and then he tries small talk with the rest of your family members

‌but if he comes back after a hour or two and your nephew is still being possessive

‌he's about to cling to you so the kid either makes a scene and is taken by his parents or just notice that he can't win

‌namjoon 1, kid 0

Jimin

‌he gives up

‌the kid can have whatever he wants, Jimin is not fighting him😭

‌in the beginning he tried to like talk with your nephew

‌negotiate even

‌but then the kid just starts screaming and kicking him when he tries to get close to you and he's like "yeah, no"

‌he can endure being away from you for a while

‌kid 1, jimin 0

Taehyung

‌i'm honestly surprised this kid likes you more than him because damn

‌he truly has his charms when it comes to kids

‌and I think your nephew would like him quite a lot honestly

‌that is until he decides to come close to you

‌and at first taehyung is just a little confused

‌but then he's offended

‌like "I thought we were friends?!"

‌is honestly more upset with the fact the child suddenly doesn't care about him when you're near than the fact he can't be around you

Jungkook

‌oh now this is a competition

‌"no, my niece is only three years old"

‌he doesn't care.

‌if she didn't wanna compete then she shouldn't have started it

‌he is trying to distract her like "oh look, an airplane"

‌and then he's running to you the moment she is busy with something else

‌and actually gets like 🤨😦😔 when he sees he lost for a child

‌actually relieved when the evening is over and you guys are going back home

‌ but if there's a next time, bro will make a whole war strategy and will be prepared

Masterlist | you'll probably like: you have a lot of plushies

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @lelewright1234

Dividers by @peachesboard | images 1 , 2 and 3

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kooqitas · 9 months ago

Text

— sharing ★ with: bts

#pairings: bf!jungkook X friends!bts X reader #synopsis: where your boyfriend decides to ask his friends what they want to see #tags: pwp, group sex, blowjob, rough oral sex (m.), fingering (f.), humiliation, degradation, cumslut, spit, sperm, tears, free use (?). aftercare mentioned but not shown. mention of bisexual jungkook #notes: this is more fetishistic than usual on this blog, so DON'T READ if you're uncomfortable with 7 guys cumming on your face and swearing at you. #wc: 2,2k

you see your friends after a months, like since you and jungkook are living together you don't see them. it's funny, cause you are friends an years ago, but at a some months you just can't see each other.

"you're so hot dressing like that, maybe if we fuck before the guys comes..." jungkook said lifting your skirt and rubbing your hole.

"namjoon text me, he said that come in five minutes with the guys"

"i promise that i can make you cum in five minutes"

you laughed, because you know that’s real…

but the other six guys are at your door in five minutes. not just six guys but six best friends of yours.

"i know that we fucked yesterday, but god, i need eat your pussy again, i'm addicted, i need fuck you every hour, every minute, every second, night after night..." despite the completely dirty speech, jungkook was kissing his shoulder calmly.

“the guys are coming in any minute” you tried to convince yourself.

“don't be so mean to me, give me that dirty little hole, please”

jungkook moved one of his hands up to the thin strap of your shirt, pulling it down and exposing your nipples, he turned you around, putting his mouth there without any ceremony. you were used to your boyfriend's tongue, how he sucked and bit the nipple of your breast with devotion.

and then the doorbell rang.

"jungkook, stop, the boys are here." you tried to stop your boyfriend.

"i'm sure they wouldn't mind seeing me fuck you, baby. and you don't mind showing how that tight hole stretches with my cock, sure?”

god, this is a FUCKING true, you and jungkook are worse than each other, but more than showing, you'd easily let them stretch you too!

"i know exactly what you thought, dirty little girl." he said before going back to sucking your nipples.

and then they rang the doorbell again.

"holy shit!" jungkook complained, going to open the door, you are trying clumsily to put your clothes in place.

when the other six men entered your house you smiled, you missed them, namjoon was the first to hug you, leaving a kiss on your forehead in a gentle way, and damn, you had seen some photos he posted at the gym, but he was BIG…

seokjin came next, the tall man kissing your hand before giving you a cute hug.

and after, jimin came, leaving a wet kiss on your cheek as he always did, the blonde guy had a scent that was enough to make your panties even wetter.

shit, jungkook shouldn’t have teased you.

you noticed that taehyung whispered something to yoongi, who laughed, muttering something like 'have decency?' and only then did you notice that, probably due to jungkook's saliva, your tits were wet, and the thin shirt clearly marked this.

"oh, yes! you disturbed us, i was dying to fuck my wife and you arrived."

a lot of things happened in that sentence, jungkook calling you 'my wife' and mainly, him exposing your sex life to all his friends.

it's not like they didn't imagine, you were friends before you and jungkook dated, the other six knew what you were like, and how jungkook was too, it was a matter of adding a + b, sometimes they would say something in the group chat, but It was the first time they had said something like that in front of them.

"if you want to fuck her, i don't care, as long as i can watch. it's not like i've never fucked you guys." hoseok said as if she wished a 'good morning'.

and that was the truth, besides jungkook, you had already had sex with at least four of your friends, and the same went for him, it's very likely that that's why he wasn't jealous.

"oh, can i? because i really want to do this."

god, your boyfriend was a perv.

“please, i miss seeing her tits.” namjoon confessed, reminding you of how he loved being on top of you, sucking your nipple to make you relax on his fat cock.

“dude, respect my girl!”

jungkook scolded namjoon, but you knew it was a joke as soon as your boyfriend came behind you, pulling the strap of your shirt down and exposing your breasts to his friends.

if you stopped to think about it, you would think it was crazy, your boyfriend sharing you with six other guys, but on the other hand, the other six guys were your friends, and you wanted much more than just looks at you.

“does anyone want to see anything else?” jungkook asked, making you feel your panties soaking, you felt like an exposed slut, a trophy, and that would never be a bad thing.

"her panties" seokjin said, looking at you with devotion, you had never done anything other than kiss him at a party.

“i want something” taehyung said.

"what do you want to see?"

"i want to see her on her knees sucking my cock." it was direct.

"if you suck taehyung's cock you'll have to suck mine too!' yoongi spoke up.

"and certainly mine too." jimin said, rubbing his thumb across his lips.

“let me get this straight,” jungkook scratched his throat. "are you saying to my face that you want my wife to give you a blowjob?"

"it was you who offered her to us like a prostitute." hoseok spoke up, unbuckling his belt.

god, you never felt so horny, your boyfriend and your friends discussed you as if you were even in that room.

"what do you think about this, baby?" Jungkook asked you.

"well..." you just walked around the counter, heading towards the sofa (being followed by the seven men as if they were puppies), and then removed your skirt and the blouse that was around your waist.

jungkook came to you, kissing you as you removed his clothes, his fingers brushing the white lace of your wet panties as you let out little moans into his mouth. your boyfriend was completely turned on, rubbing his pecs on your nipples making you moan even more.

"my little slut is so greedy, seven guys in your mouth? will you be able to handle it?"

"i need to get it!"

"good whore!" he kissed you one last time. "you don't deserve that much, organize yourself to kiss her in pairs, and you know her and the word, anything I'll insist on killing each one of you.”

jungkook barely finished and jimin and seokjin came close to you, jimin from behind, pressing his already hard cock on your back, and seokjin on your belly, at that moment you wanted both of them inside you, but all you got was seokjin sucking and nibbling your nipples while jimin kissed you and played with your wet panties. you moaning to the two of them while the other five watched everything.

you didn't even notice when taehyung and yoongi arrived, their firm hands using you to rub themself, it was pathetic, the pinch that yoongi gave your left nipple while your hand was inside taehyung's pants made you scream in pain, but mixed with pleasure, you liked that aggressive way.

"are you going to call me daddy again tonight?" namjoon asked as he approached you with hoseok, sticking two fingers into your pussy without any warning when hoseok’s kissing you “i missed that drippy messy hole.” namjoon goes fast, he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you moan so loud because everything is even hotter when you see all those other men looking at you.

"i think the guys will like to see this" hoseok moved out of your way, exposing everyone to the image of you moaning into namjoon's fingers.

"so pretty our bimbo slut!" jimin said, watching the scene.

your boyfriend wanted to tell namjoon to stop it, take you to the bedroom and fuck you until his body shut down, but just seeing how much fun you were having with it all made him wait.

namjoon adds a third finger in without warning and you're feel so humiliated, leak around his hands when he fucks his fingers in and out of your cunt at an insane rhythm.

"tell your boyfriend how much you miss my cock opening all that hole, how much you miss your girl juices running down my cock. how you love look at my cock crammed in your tight pussy” and then he took his fingers out of you, rubbing them on your lips and forcing you to kneel on the floor. “you're not going to cum, unless whore, you're going to shove our dicks down your throat and let us cum all over your body, then your boyfriend sees what he does to you full of other men's cum”

and then you noticed the other six men approach you with their dicks in their hands, taehyung was the first to pull your hair, and you were agile with your warm tongue tracing his dick up and down.

while your tongue was still on taehyung, hoseok rubbed his balls in your face, and you tried to grab them on your tongue too, but it was in vain.

“jungkook you date a prostitute!” seokjin said when you grabbed his dick, starting a masturbation.

"i'm sure she can handle two" jimin said, shoving his cock along with taehyung's down your throat.

and you sucked it, not even you know how, but you sucked it like it was the most delicious lollipop in the world while they both thrust hard into your throat.

at one point in the night, you had jimin and taehyung's dick in your mouth and seokjin and hoseok one in each hand. namjoon, jungkook and yoongi took turns rubbing their dicks over your body and slapping your chest and face.

jimin took his dick out of your mouth, and you fit seokjin's cock, watching from the side as jimin started jerking off.

yoongi was in your right hand, you caressing his balls.

you felt some tears in your eyes, sometimes hitting your friends' thighs to make them stop for you to breathe, before returning to the aggressive pace.

the feeling was much more pleasant due to the environment than the sexual act itself, since you could barely actually suck the dicks, every time someone was coming in and out of your mouth.

"i think this stupid bitch was too greedy, she hasn't choked on my dick yet" namjoon complained, making you release seokjin and hoseok's dick that were in your mouth, when the two came out, an absurd amount of saliva ran out of you, it was humiliating, but you didn't have much time to think as soon namjoon grabbed your hair and made your nose touch his pelvis.

and then yoongi and jungkook joined him, rubbing their balls all over your face while you just opened your mouth and gladly accepted whatever they gave you.

"you look like a bitch in heat, trying to suck all these dicks when you clearly can't!" yoongi complained.

and this triggered a series of humiliations.

"disgusting mouth, can't even suck dick properly!" jimin said.

"i'm ashamed to say that that mouth touched my dick." seokjin said as he buried his throat on his cock, making you cough and cry.

"i think the only good hole in you is your pussy." namjoon said shortly after spitting at you, encouraging the other six to do the same.

no matter how much they cursed and humiliated you, you had never felt so good, the feeling of having seven men in a circle around you was inexplicable.

and when hoseok left your mouth just to cum you felt even better.

his sperm falling down your face and breasts, mixing with that of jimin and taehyung who came soon after.

“our cumslut, so disgusting, free whore, thank u, jungkook” taehyung joked, grabbing your hair.

you came back with namjoon's dick in your mouth, choking and coughing several times as he fucked your mouth with even greater force than he used to do in your other holes.

“dating jungkook made you stupid, that mouth doesn't do anything right!” namjoon shouted, pulling his dick out of your throat only to spit a thick string of saliva there and hit you on face.

your face full of other guys cum while you was still sucking namjoon was what made your boyfriend cum on your face, making namjoon's big cock a little dirty.

"be useful at least a little and make me cum in that throat" yoongi said.

you put yoongi's dick back in your mouth, sucking it and namjoon's as they fucked you, and you saw stars as they came together and filled your throat, so full to the point that it leaked out of your mouth even though you tried to swallow.

you cum, without any stimulation other than the humiliation and the cum on your body, you just came so hard that your body shook.

you were a mess, your entire body and the room floor is a mixture of tears, cum, and spit. and you were still fucking wet.

"do you want some help with her?" your friends offered, after putting on your clothes and seeing that you were completely destroyed.

“no need,” jungkook thanked. "i take care of my princess."

and then the other six walked over to you, giving you a careful peck on the mouth before being led to the door.

695 notes · View notes

guksfairy · 6 days ago

Text

fogged hearts | JJK

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

wc: 1.1k

notes: mentions of nsfw content, just them being cute, this is more of a filler…mwah I love you I hope you enjoy this!!

MDNI ´-જ⁀➴

The car was silent again, save for you and Jungkook’s gentle pants that were fading slowly as you each caught your breath.

“I’ll never get tired of you,” Jungkook’s hands are placed under your sweater, directly on your skin and on your waist with his thumb soothing your skin as it moves in small motions up and down. They’re soft. They’re home.

His cock was still deep in you but you could care less about that right now. You missed him so bad. So what if you wanted him then and there.

When Jungkook agreed to pick you up from the airport after your trip he had a whole thing planned.

He was to pick you up right outside the plane and hand you the flowers he bought on his way there. Then he’d take you to grab some good Korean food he’s sure you’d missed and drive you back home where you two would cuddle in your bed and watch a movie.

He hadn’t planned to fuck you raw in the back of his car before even leaving the airport. You didn’t care though. It’s a private airline and it’s not like any other cars were parked waiting for the jet anytime soon. You checked. So when Jimin offered you a ride back, you declined his offer with the excuse that your parents had already sent over a driver to pick you up. He left and less than a minute later, Jungkook had pulled up and walked out of his car, holding a bouquet of flowers looking as hot as ever.

Maybe it’s because you hadn’t seen him in a week or because his hair was just slightly messy but you wanted him so bad.

So you made that very clear to him when you both walked over to his car and instead of getting in the front seat like you usually do, you got in the back seat. Jungkook was confused for a moment until you threw your black lace panties, you removed from under your skirt, right onto his lap. Without hesitation, he gave you what you wanted.

“I missed you,” you reply with your flushed cheek against his clothed chest.

“Really? I would have never guessed that,” Jungkook’s playful reply earns a chuckle from you. You couldn’t help it. Even while you were on vacation with your friends, you made sure to always text or call Jungkook to update him of your activities.

“I’m serious though. I kept seeing couples everywhere and wishing you were there. I love my friends but you and I should get away too,” you had been thinking about it for a while. Your father had just given you your monthly allowance that you always mention is more than enough.

Maybe you could book a nice getaway with Jungkook. It was long overdue anyways.

“We should. I have a couple places I want to take you to,” at this you carefully sit up and stare at him. Your fingers running through his damp hair as you look at him with a smile growing.

“Yeah?”

“I have a list on my notes app,” he replies and your eyebrows raise.

“You’re kidding,” genuinely in awe because usually you’re the one who plans the places to visit when you two have a day off together.

“No, you can check baby,” he reaches for his phone that’s laid next to your purse on the center console and hands it to you.

You unlock his phone and open his notes app and sure enough, a the very top with the most recent edit, is a list titled, Date Ideas ❤️

“Koo~” you drag out his name as you scroll through his list, all with addresses right next to them.

There’s a couple restaurants listed along with cafes he thinks you’d enjoy the theme of. Some are places where you can make stuff together like ceramic dishes or matching phone cases.

The list goes on for a while and you feel like you’re never going to reach the end of it. Your mouth is slightly agape and Jungkook is starring at your reaction with a smug expression.

What can he say? He’s a good boyfriend.

“Koo why haven’t you mentioned this?” You put his phone down and wait for a response, “Because you almost always have a place in mind when I pick you up,” he replies and you nod. You’re always finding cute places on TikTok and Instagram and want to share them with Jungkook.

You’ve never had to struggle with the whole ‘where do you wanna go?’ or ‘where do you want to eat?’

“Okay well next time we’re checking something off your list,” you say and he jolts gently making you gasp. “Sorry baby I know you’re still sensitive but hand me my phone,” he says and you grab it again and hand it to him.

“What are you doing?” You ask and he tilts his phone so you could see his actions.

He unlocks his phone and scrolls through the list until he finds the one he’s looking for and ticks it off.

▣ fuck my love in a semi-public space

“That’s a date?” You laugh and he smiles back at you, “For me it is,”

For a moment you both stay silent and you take the opportunity to draw a heart in the fogged window. He reaches over and draws both of your initials in the middle. You take his phone again and take a picture of it before sending it to yourself. You’re not sure where your phone is. The second you landed, all you could think about was Jungkook.

“New lockscreen,” you mumble and he kisses the top of your head, “We got to get going baby,” he says and you want to whine but he stops you, “Round two at your place?” and your excitement is once again through the roof.

With gentle movements, you raise yourself off of Jungkook’s cock and land on your sweater he laid for you. He removes his sweater and uses it to clean the both of you, being very careful with you.

Shortly after you make your way to the front seat and so does Jungkook. He plugs his phone in and plays your playlist you made on his Spotify account.

The ride home is nice and quiet with the music playing throughout the vehicle and you couldn’t be happier to be back home to Jungkook.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook smut

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frenchkisstheabyss · 8 months ago

Text

♡ Sympathy for the Devil ♡

♡ Pairings: mobster!boyfriend!jimin x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: mafia au/angst/smut

♡ Summary: After an arguement with your boyfriend, you set out to get back at him by bringing a date to the restaurant he frequents on a night you know he'll be there. It's a dangerous game, toying with another human life to get your way, but you do love danger, don't you? You wouldn't be looking to make a killer jealous if you didn't.

♡ Word Count: 3.2k

♡ Warnings: appearance of other members (non romantic), dom Jimin w/ switch vibes sprinkled in, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, clit teasing, marking (hickeys), pet names (baby), you're feral for each other, fingering (f receiving), spanking, you give him a lil slap, choking, bathroom sex, possessiveness, jealousy, you're both kinda psychotic, implied murder, & that's it for the list of wholesome things in this fic.

♡ A/N: I'm such a sucker for mafia movies so I have the biggest soft spot for mafia fics. I want to thank @anyamaris for reading this first and encouraging me along the way when I was struggling with writer's block. Idk what I'd do without my #1 cheerleader for my dom Jimin agenda ❤️

Some of the prettiest animals in nature are simultaneously the deadliest. Park Jimin is no exception...

It’s impossible not to be enchanted by him. His face is a heavenly mixture of handsomeness and beauty. The cadence of his voice is like a song you can’t quite get out of your head and just when you think you have it’s back again. It’s all enough to make a girl blind to the blood on his hands.

Falling in love with him made the rest of the world all fuzzy. It blurred out everything. Not just the money laundering or the drug trafficking. To love him, to be loved by him, makes everything else feel like background noise. You've never touched a hard drug in your life but, the way he makes you feel, he must qualify as one.

That’s why you’re here doing the dumbest shit you’ve ever done in your life.

Arguments are inevitable in relationships. But arguments when you’re dating a mob guy? They’re different beasts entirely and it’s a bitch to tame them. Your last argument with Jimin led to you packing a bag and running off to your best friend’s place. In the beginning you never had to question if you came before everything else. You were special to him—at least you thought you were—and he’d stop anything to be with you.

But lately that hasn’t been the case. He’s been replacing his presence in your life with gifts, thinking he can make up for missed dates and lonely nights with designer bags. Maybe the other girlfriends are content with cuddling up to some ugly mink coat in place of their man but you aren’t one of them.

He just can’t seem to get that through his thick skull so you’ve set out to make him. If the death stare he’s giving you across this bustling restaurant is any indication of how your plan’s going, it’s working like a charm. You spent hours styling your hair just the way he likes it. Elegant and sleek, marrying beautifully with the softness of your face.

Your manicured nails are painted a translucent blue that deepens the slightest bit when the light hits it a certain way. The dress you’re wearing accentuates your curves in all the places he loves which, let’s be honest, is everywhere. And your heels, the heels, somehow makes your ass look more perfect than it already is. All of this and you’re sitting at a table having dinner with another man.

You spot Namjoon throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, no doubt leaning in to give him one of his infamous pep talks. "Don’t worry about her” he’s surely saying, “It’s not worth it, man. See, sometimes love is just…” Joon goes on, doing his best to keep his younger brother from doing something stupid but Jimin’s hardly listening. How can he when his blood’s boiling hot enough to eat its way through his flesh?

Every Sunday night the brothers and their girlfriends come here for dinner. The owners, a sweet elderly couple, love them as if they were their own and give them the biggest table no matter how packed it is. This is the one night they get to pretend they’re a normal family. It’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition. Everyone knows that. You know that.

“The thing a lot of women don’t understand is that men by nature aren’t monogamous” your date rambles between messy bites of dinner. The man’s not ugly by any means but god is he a pig, in more ways than one. Not that you’re complaining. It’s why you had your best friend set you up with him. Whoever you bought here was no doubt being led to slaughter. Who better than a pig?

A chill runs through you at the ruthlessness of your own thoughts, wiping the smile from your face. Looking up, Jimin captures you in his gaze, the death glare replaced with a look of childlike amusement. It’s as if the smile had fled from your face to find its new home on his, taunting you from afar. What’s he smiling for? You’re not foolish enough to think it’s for anything good.

“I was thinking, it’s kinda loud in here. Wanna go to my place?” your date asks, his poor attempt at getting laid tonight falling on deaf ears.

Jimin stands up, slipping out of his suit jacket as he does so. Rolling up the sleeves of his pressed dress shirt, he leans to whisper something in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pours him a shot and he knocks it back like it’s nothing. The rest of the table watches on, concerned but doing their best to carry on dinner as usual. Their collective heart rate increases but none more than yours.

Maybe you hadn’t really thought this one out. Noticing the color drain from your face, your date reaches out to touch your hand. “Don’t!” you snap, jumping up from your seat. “I’m sorry. I just need a second.” Jimin’s halfway across the dining room when you flee toward the bathroom, nearly knocking into some poor innocent waiter in the process.

Navigating your way through the halls, you scramble to find a way out. You’ll tell the guy you’re sick. That’s it. Say you’re not feeling too well, must be the food or something, and send him on his way. Pretend this never happened.

“Beautiful dress, darling” an older woman smiles as she leaves the bathroom. You dash in before the door closes behind her, peeking your head back out to avoid being rude. “Thank you!” you shout after her, quickly shutting the door and hurrying to the sink to splash some water on your face.

“Snap out of it” you whisper, flicking specks of icy water at the makeup you worked tirelessly to apply. “Maybe…maybe he won’t do anything, right? We’re in public. He wouldn’t—” You force a weak, pained smile at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. “Who are you kidding?” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “He’s gonna kill him.”

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” sighs a voice that is distinctively not yours. Your hands drop from your face and there Jimin is, standing in the doorway with that same smile on. The one he’d so brutally ripped from your face. And here you are, shivering like a child too afraid of the monster under the bed to make a run for it.

In all your panic you could’ve sworn you locked the door when, in fact, you’d done no such thing. If he’d knocked you would’ve had to open it anyway—you’ve never been great at saying no to him—but at least you would’ve given yourself a fighting chance. Nothing to stress your pretty little head about. Jimin steps in, easing the door closed, and you hear a sharp click. It’s locked now.

The heels of his black Louboutin shoes tap against the polished tile as he approaches the sink. Your heart jumps with each tap, the sound growing unbearably louder the closer he gets. Jimin brings his arms around your waist, holding you as only lovers do, “You want me to hurt him, don’t you? Want me to break every bone in his body to show you how much I love you?” His full lips brush against your neck, soft tongue running along the surface of your skin like the head of a match ready to light up with dazzling flames.

Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching helplessly as his hands skate up and down your body, fingertips ghosting your most sensitive areas. His touch is a truth serum, forcing you to betray yourself and lay your motives bare. “You protect the things you love, Jimin. I only wanted to know if I was still one of them. Even if that meant…” you shudder at the thought. “We get what we want by any means. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?”

Jimin grins, locking eyes with your reflection as he inches your dress up to reveal your pillowy thighs. “Aah but you already have me. I let you throw your little tantrum but I’ll never let you go. You know that.” His fingers dip between the warmth of your thighs, teasing your clit through your panties.

“So why?” he whispers, his other hand coming up to lovingly stroke your neck, “Why would you try to embarrass me?”

You part your lips to speak but your words are forced back down by the sudden pressure applied to your windpipe by his hand. All that escapes are broken words and hushed gasps for air. The light abandons his eyes, that boyish charm he so effortlessly wields burning to ash as you squirm in his grip. You kick your legs to get free but it only serves to give him the room he needs to tear your panties to the side, the pads of his fingertips dripping with your arousal as they glide through your folds.

He loosens his grip on your neck and you manage to rasp out “Mmm…sorry…didn’t mean” before you’re plunged back into silence. Curling his fingers against your entrance, he sinks one into your core. A single digit pumping into needy walls that are already clenching in anticipation of the next one. Snatching your head back, he kisses you like he hates you. Hates you so much that he loves you. Loves you so much that he hates you. A cycle, endless and all consuming, that neither of you can break from.

“Prove it to me” he demands between your lips, plunging another finger into you, “Bend over and show me how sorry you are.” Your back arches, bringing your soft ass flush against his bulge. You press back into him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass each time his fingers slam into your core. Jimin sneaks a glimpse at the mirror to watch the way your body jiggles from the motion. Thighs trembling, tits rocking in sync with the harsh movements of his wrist.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” Jimin slips his hand away from your neck, drenched fingers abandoning your pussy to apply sharp, wet slaps to your ass.

Spinning around to face him, you land an equally sharp slap across his face, “Choke me like that again and I’ll rip your head off.”

If the burning of your palm is any indication, you know you hit him hard but he’s unphased. He's actually smiling, licking his lips at you like you’re the most delicious thing in this restaurant. He sweeps you off of your feet, setting you down on the sink, “So. Fucking. Pretty.”

The marble’s even colder against your bottom than it was your hands but you don’t give a shit. Jimin’s tongue’s down your throat as he pushes your dress up, ripping away what was left of your panties. That’s the only thing you give a shit about.

“Jimin!” you giggle, tugging at the zipper on his pants, “You’re gonna make me fall.”

Hooking his arms behind your knees, he spreads your legs, pushing them to your chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you fall.”

“Promise?” you pout, fingertips tracing the veins along his length.

They pulse and twitch as he raises his hips, dragging the underside of his cock between your folds. “I promise. I won’t—aah, shit, baby” he moans, his cock glazed in your arousal without having even been inside of you yet. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

You grab onto his shirt, the cotton knotted in your fists as you bask in the feeling of the head brushing your clit. “I did. Missed you so much” you mewl, guiding him to your entrance. Jimin peppers your cheeks with kisses, pushing into you. Filling you. Claiming you. “I, mmphh, missed, fuck, missed you too” he confesses, each word emphasized by thrusts that have you wanting to climb every wall in this bathroom.

When it comes to women Jimin’s told more lies than he can remember but never with you. He misses you and he means it, misses you so much that it hurts. Not just because you take his cock so well, somehow managing to look majestic when you’re being fucked up against this mirror. But because he feels incomplete without you.

Before you all he knew was violence and greed, constantly chasing power that would never be enough. Always needing more. He often wondered how much money it would take, how many buried enemies, to fill the emptiness that’s haunted him for as long as he can remember. And then you came along—the girl whose eyes twinkle as she stares up at him, your entire body calling out his name—and he had his answer.

All he needed to cure that emptiness, rid him of the nagging feeling that something’s missing, was you. But men like him have an image to maintain. In this world people come to know you for things, fear you for them, and you can’t let them think you’re soft. Not for a second. Not if you want to get what you want. “We get what we want by any means”. That is what he told you but nothing’s worth having if it’s by way of losing you.

Dragging you to the edge of the sink, heart thumping out of his chest from how tightly you’re clenching, he whispers into your open mouth, “Come home. I’m in hell without you. Everything’s so…so empty. Just say you’ll come back to me. Say it.”

“I-I’ll come back home. Fuck, I’ll go the moon if you want me to” you pant, watery eyes sending mascara streaming down your cheeks. You tug harder at his shirt, sending a button or two clinking into the mirror. He’s in you so deep, hitting every spot like only he knows how, that you’re ready to explode. Implode? One or the other. Maybe both.

Jimin laughs, his tongue grazing yours, “You wanna go to the moon, baby? Hold onto me. I’ll take you.”

Knowing better than to doubt him, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hold on like your life depends on it. The sink creaks beneath you as he fucks harder into a pussy that just won’t stop leaking for him. You lose control of your body. All of it belongs to him, as it should. You make no attempts at denying yourself the ultimate satisfaction when it hits. Your lips crash together as you climax, your moans, bordering on screams, pouring onto his tongue.

He eagerly devours them, returning some of his own as your walls spasm wildly, milking the cum from his swollen tip. Your cunt wants every drop of it and he’s determined to give it to you. Fill you up until it’s dripping out of you, making your thighs warm and sticky with his seed. Your body gives out and he tucks an arm behind you, sticking to his promise not to let you fall.

Staring up at the ceiling, you’re sure you see space, stars twinkling before your eyes as you float there, completely weightless. Jimin’s lips meet your heaving chest, suckling at your silky skin to leave hickeys along your collarbone.

“Mine. All mine” he repeats, “Love you so much.”

You run your fingers through his hair as he marks you, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I love you too.”

“Excuse me, sir. You’re holding up the bathroom” a comically high pitched voice says, tapping at the bathroom door. Jimin drags himself upright, knowing the voice too well. “You okay?” he asks, shuffling to make you both look presentable. He tries to fix your dress but there’s no use, he’s stretched it out more than he has you.

“Baby, it’s fine” you giggle, shooing him away, “I got it.”

Jimin unlocks the door, snatching it open to reveal precisely who you both expected. “Thank god!” Jungkook cheers, rushing into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Whose idea was it to have one bathroom here, man? I’ve had to piss for like—” Reading the look on Jimin’s face, he follows his gaze over to the sink where you sit buzzed off of the afterglow with your tattered panties at your feet.

Jungkook grins, looking you both up and down, “Safe to say you two are having a good night, huh?”

Jimin hits Jungkook in the back of the head, walking over to help you down from the sink. He holds you close to him, kissing you as he steers you towards the door. “Is it done?” Jimin asks over his shoulder but you don’t hear Jungkook’s response. It’s drowned out by the symphony of sounds that assault you as you venture back out into the restaurant, Jimin’s arms still holding you tight. Scanning the restaurant you spot the table you were at with your date but now there’s another couple there.

“Long time no see!” Jin says, jumping up to hug you. His girlfriend follows behind, hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in years. “Come sit with me” she insists, noticing your disheveled appearance, “I’ll fix you right up. I have everything in my purse.” You settle into the chair beside her and she goes straight to work cleaning the mascara from your face.

Jimin sits beside you, an arm draped over the back of your chair, and watches attentively as you get your makeup done. “Nice to have you back” Taehyung smiles, pulling something from under the table and passing it to you. Jimin sets them down before you—your jacket and your purse. You’d forgotten them at the table when you fled to the bathroom.

“Uh, thanks, I—” you stutter, cut off by Hoseok’s sudden reappearance at the end of the table. You’d seen him earlier but hadn’t noticed his seat was empty when you returned. He tries to play it off, hide it behind a smile, but he’s out of breath, utterly exhausted from something. The men glance around the table at each other. It’s a silent conversation you know you shouldn’t be in on.

“Jimin” you whisper, when you’re sure you aren’t interrupting, “Where’s…”

Jimin casually pours you both a drink, presenting you with a glass of wine. “Where’s who?”

“The guy that I was…”

“The guy that you were what, baby?” he asks, brow crinkling as he feigns ignorance. “You’ve been here with me all night, haven’t you?” He turns to the rest of the table who all seem to share his collective memory loss. “Hasn’t she?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yeah.”

“Been here all night.”

“See? Now enjoy your drink and finish getting your makeup done” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Just like that, everyone resumes their conversations like it’s any other Sunday night dinner. You take a sip of your wine, the post-orgasm haze finally lifts from your brain, and all of the pieces come together in your mind. You shake the truth away, opting instead for the constructed reality necessary to pretend you just didn’t get a man killed.

What date? What guy? You’ve been here all night with Jimin. The man you came here with. The man you’ll leave here with. The man you love too much to ever run away from again. Unless, of course, you want to raise the homicide rate.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin x you #bts au #bts au fanfic #bts mafia au #jimin au #chubby reader #plus size reader #bts x fem!reader #park jimin x reader

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glossdebut · 2 months ago

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so hot (you’re hurting my feelings) | KSJ

✧ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You haven’t heard from your ex, Seokjin, in a year. When you're invited to his best friend Yoongi's engagement party, you know you should say no, that you should just leave it alone. But you can't pass up the chance to show Seokjin what he lost.

✧ TAGS: exes to lovers, light angst, seokjin’s problem is that he is chronically unserious (who is surprised?), smut, seokjin has a big dick (again who is surprised?)

✧ WARNINGS: hurt feelings, the angst is pretty light but it's still there, vaginal sex, riding!!!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: it is here!!! sorry it took so long, i've never written seokjin before!!! and then it turned into a monster like holy fuck. like study break, this wasn't beta'd, so i apologize in advance for mistakes/repeated phrases. seriously, i didn't even re-read it after i finished it because i just can't look at it anymore LMAO. STREAM HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

✧ WORDCOUNT: 4.4k words

[10:42] Seokjin: i heard jimin invited you to the party for yoongi and eunji on saturday

[10:42] Seokjin: are you going?

You should’ve said no. That is one-hundred percent clear to you now.

Better yet, you really should’ve blocked Seokjin’s number a long time ago, laughed in Park Jimin’s stupid face when he invited you in the first place.

You’re super happy for Yoongi, you are. You were around when he and Eunji first started seeing each other, watched Yoongi agonize over the mushy, embarrassing feelings that come with falling in love. The fact that they’re engaged now? Insane. But knowing Yoongi, he surely would’ve been just as satisfied with a cursory ‘congratulations’ text.

Any sentence that starts with ‘Yoongi’ and ends in ‘party’ usually has a big, fat ‘doesn’t want to go to’ smushed in the middle. Bold and underlined. You knew from the get-go that any and all planning of this party was Jimin’s doing, and Jimin’s doing alone. That Yoongi would’ve been totally unbothered if you couldn’t make it.

Besides, Yoongi may be your friend, but Seokjin is your ex. And wherever there is Min Yoongi, there is also Kim Seokjin. Fuck, he’s probably going to be the best man. The logical part of you knew that it would be better for all parties involved to politely decline, to make up an excuse not to go.

Instead, what you said was—

[10:58] You: yeah i’ll be there

Maybe you’re trying to prove a point. Prove that you’re better off now, although whether you’re trying to prove it to Seokjin or yourself you still don’t know. It would explain the dress you’re wearing: short, fitting, a soft, baby pink—his favorite. Look at what you gave up, it screams.

Because you need him to know.

You haven’t seen each other in well over a year. It hurt, then, but now you’re thankful because it means he missed your rock bottom. He missed all of the tears you shed for him, the stolen sweatshirts you refused to stop wearing—the gaping, Seokjin-shaped hole he left in your life.

There was a time where you’d thought Seokjin was The One. It was no secret that you were heading towards marriage. Seokjin is the type of guy you’d always fantasized about being married to. On paper, he was perfect: kind, handsome, funny. Knew his way around a kitchen. Charmed your parents within seconds of meeting them.

But perfect on paper very seldom means perfect in reality. As it turned out, Seokjin had many flaws, the most notable being his inability to have difficult conversations. It was endearing until it wasn’t, until difficult conversations became more and more necessary to have the kind of future you’d dreamed of having with him.

Even the way things ended felt like the punchline to a joke that didn’t quite land. You broke things off, but you were still the more heartbroken one in the end. He handled it so graciously.

So, yes, part of you desperately needs him to see you, now that you’ve picked yourself back up.

Another part, though—a part that has decided to only make itself known now that you’ve actually stepped foot into Park Jimin’s soiree from hell—is fucking terrified of facing him after all this time. Terrified that he’ll see right through the makeup, the styled hair, the carefully placed mask—to find that you’re just as shattered as you were the day he left.

Standing here now, at a party that could’ve been yours and Seokjin’s in another life, you suddenly feel like you’ve made a horrible mistake.

But you’re here. No turning back now, because Jimin has already seen you, will surely notice if you suddenly go missing.

Thankfully, you excel at compartmentalizing like no other. Revenge era aside, you’re here to celebrate Yoongi and Eunji more than anything else. You fix your dress, fix your smile. Raise a glass to the happy couple and swallow down your nerves with a mouthful of expensive champagne.

You make your rounds. You haven’t seen most of the people here since you and Seokjin broke up, since they were all Seokjin’s friends first. Despite the urge to look over your shoulder every ten seconds, it’s nice to see them. You missed them.

The happy couple are just that: happy. Although Yoongi looks like he wants to strangle Party Planner Jimin™ with the tie he’s been forced to wear. Namjoon got a promotion at work since you last saw him. Hoseok is seeing someone new. Taehyung is seeing several new someones. Jeongguk is pink-cheeked and plastered. Everything is the same and completely different, and you can’t help the fondness that fills you as you greet them one by one.

Foolishly, you almost forget. Almost. You just barely make it to Yoongi’s fancy kitchen, looking to top off your champagne, when suddenly you feel a warm, familiar hand on your elbow.

“Y/N...”

Of course.

You’re frozen to the spot, unable to even turn around to face him. It’s been over a year since you’ve heard his voice and just the sound of it makes your throat feel tight. How embarrassing would it be if you cried in front of him before you even get a word in?

“Y/N, please look at me,” Seokjin says, voice soft.

Fucking get it together, you think.

You swallow thickly, school your features into the most neutral expression you can manage, and turn around.

Oh, life is unfair. Life is so unfair, because you had mentally prepared yourself for Seokjin to look great. Seokjin always looks great. There are no exceptions to that rule. He once used your kitchen scissors to cut his own bangs, and even though it looked like someone had taken a bite out of them, he was still fit for the cover of a magazine. Dazzling.

What you hadn’t prepared for, though, is that he would look even better than when you last saw him. Great you could’ve handled, but better? Did losing you really do him so many favors?

His hair is black again, as opposed to the chocolate brown you’d last seen. Shorter, too, and artfully styled. It’s hard for you to wrap your head around, but somehow he looks bigger, just enough for you to take notice.

And if things couldn’t get more devastating for you, three whole buttons at the top of his shirt have been left unbuttoned. Two more buttons than he’d normally ever allow, showing off a tantalizing swath of chest.

Kim Seokjin, what happened to your modesty, you whore?

“Hi,” he says, smiling at you kindly. He’s breathless and pink, like he’d done a little jog to get to you. You try not to read into it. Compose yourself.

“Hi,” you reply, polite but so, so carefully detached.

“I guess this was inevitable, huh?”

Not really, you think to yourself. He’s the one who approached you. He could’ve just as easily not—it would’ve been the kinder thing to do. But you bite your tongue.

“Guess so,” you say instead.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” Seokjin says.

You’re not quite sure what to do with that. Why would you even cross his mind anymore, if he so obviously didn’t care when you dumped him?

Sensing that you don’t know what to say, Seokjin continues, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

“What I mean is, I’m really unhappy with the way we left things.”

That makes you scoff. The first crack in your mask of politeness.

“You didn’t seem it, when it happened,” you reply coolly. “I don’t know what could’ve possibly changed in a year of zero contact.”

He visibly deflates a little, his smile faltering. “Y/N, I—”

“I don’t want to do this, Seokjin,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “There’s no use digging up the past. We ended for a reason.”

“I know that,” he insists. He steps closer to you and you immediately step back in response. “Look, can’t we just talk?”

“You want to talk now?” you ask, your mounting frustration spilling over at his insistence. His proximity, the familiar smell of him overwhelms your brain. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be stubborn, Y/N,” Seokjin huffs. The nerve of him, sounding just as frustrated as you. He doesn’t have the right. “I want… I want to explain. Just let me explain.”

You know it’s not the time or the place to do this. Normally, you’d be completely disinterested in the prospect of hashing things out in Yoongi’s kitchen, in a party full of people. But all of the what if’s that have piled up the past year nag at you to listen to what he has to say.

“Fine,” you snap, impatient. “If that’s what I have to do to get you to leave me alone.”

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “When you ended things… I just—I let you,” he says. “I let you because you were right. I didn’t know how to handle conflict between us. I thought… I thought if I just brushed our problems off, if I made you laugh and put them out of your mind, it would be enough to make everything okay.”

He looks down, staring at his shiny shoes. If you were together, you would crack a joke about him staring at his own reflection. Not the time for that, though.

“And clearly, it wasn’t. You were unhappy. And I hated that I was the one to make you that way, because all I ever wanted to do was make you smile,” he continues. “So I let you go. I thought you’d be better off.”

Better off? How could he possibly think you would be better off without him? How could he possibly think that you didn’t want him to fight for you, back then? All you wanted was for him to prove you wrong, to show you that he could own up to his faults, and instead…

“I wasn’t ready to have those hard conversations with you, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m ready now,” Seokjin says as he looks up at you. “I don’t want to laugh things off, or push them aside and hope it gets better. I know I’m a year too late, but I want to be better for you, if you’ll let me.”

Shit.

“Jin, I… Those are pretty words, but how am I supposed to trust that things will actually be different this time?”

“...I guess you won’t know unless you try,” he says. His voice is soft, fragile like spun sugar. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to take the risk. But… Y/N, I love you. I at least need you to know that. I never stopped.”

Love.

He never stopped loving you. But… If he never stopped loving you, why did he wait so long to tell you? You want to believe him, but it all feels too good to be true. You’re overwhelmed, caught at a crossroads you had no idea you’d face when you agreed to come tonight.

“...I don’t know,” you say weakly. The tears that have been forming in your eyes finally start to spill, one by one. “I don’t know if that’s good enough. This past year has been… I don’t want to let you back in just to get hurt all over again. I don’t know if I can pick myself back up a second time.”

“You won’t have to,” he says gently. He reaches out to touch your arm, hesitant, and you let him. “I’m serious about this, Y/N. I know I won’t be perfect, but I don’t ever want to lose you again. Not if I can help it.”

You sniffle and Seokjin’s hands reach for you, cradling your face. His thumbs rub at your cheeks gently.

“Please don’t cry,” he says, his voice almost pained. “You’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.”

You let your eyes fall shut, allow yourself a steadying breath as Seokjin wipes your tears away.

Maybe it’s the familiarity, the ease with which you let him touch you, even after everything that’s happened. Maybe it’s all of the built-up longing you’ve stored for him over the past year, bubbling over now that he’s in front of you, broad and strong and safe. Maybe it’s that he still loves you. You know you should think this over a little longer, that you shouldn’t fold so easily. That there’s so much more to talk about and work through. But still…

“Okay,” you say, your heart pounding in your chest. “You get one more chance. On a trial basis.”

Seokjin’s stupid, perfect lips pop open, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ in what you can only assume is shock. Like he was ready for a swift and justified rejection, wasn’t expecting his speech to pay off.

“Are you sure?”

You aren’t. You won’t be, not until he proves himself. Not until he shows you that he’s ready to face the hard parts of a relationship, to handle it like an adult when things get bad. But damn if you don’t want to give him the chance to.

“I’m gonna put you through the fucking wringer,” you say, firm. “I’m going to make you talk about all of the things you skipped out on before. But… I want to let you try.”

Seokjin. laughs breathlessly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I deserve that. We can talk about anything you want,” he concedes. Warm eyes study you for a moment before he lets out a tentative, “can I kiss you?” He sounds so hopeful, you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

You loop your arms around his neck, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s crazy, how it takes you right back to the start. Your first date—Seokjin, ever the gentleman, walking you to your door. The tentative press of lips for the very first time, his hands hovering by your waist like he’s afraid to touch you.

But it isn’t the first time. After a moment of nerves, Seokjin eases into it, deepens it. His hands are confident when they finally make contact with your waist, pressing you against the kitchen island behind you. You melt into the easy slide of his lips against yours, surprising yourself when your tongue slides against his, earning a pleased hum from him.

It dawns on you how inappropriate this is, making out with your ex (???) in his best friend’s kitchen—at his best friend’s engagement party—but you can’t bring yourself to care that much. Not when you’ve finally gotten a taste of what you’ve been missing for so long.

When he finally pulls away, Seokjin’s lips are deliciously swollen. You can’t tear your gaze away no matter how hard you try. Your hands smooth over his shirt, feeling his broad shoulders, the silky material stretching over them.

“I know I owe you a much longer conversation, but…” He trails off. You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck. “God, this dress…”

He trails a finger down a thin strap, and just like that, your every nerve ending is alight. It’s embarrassing, how easily you crumble for him from just a little bit of kissing. How your thighs squeeze together at the husky tone of his voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, trailing his nose against the side of your neck, breathing you in. “Did you wear this dress for me?”

“Wanted you to know what you lost,” you mumble, a little petulant. Still wanting to punish him, just a little.

“I know what I lost,” Seokjin admits easily. His hand smooths down your side, over the silky material of your dress. “Believe me, I know. I’m an idiot.”

Shit. This is working for him. Groveling looks just as good on him as everything else does.

“You are,” you agree weakly, your eyes fluttering shut. He’s being perfectly respectful, keeping his hands in safe places, and you’re already falling apart.

“Let me take you home with me,” he says. When his plush lips press to your neck, you can’t hide the way your breath hitches. “Let me make up for it.”

“Are you joking? You can’t leave,” you say, breathless. “What about Yoongi?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you know Seokjin can see right through you. How close you are to saying fuck it.

“Yoongi wants to be at this party even less than I do,” Seokjin says. “You know that. Please, baby.”

★★★

When you make it to Seokjin’s apartment, it becomes clear that both of your patience is wearing dangerously thin.

In all the time that you’ve known him, you’ve never known Seokjin to be like this—the passionate, ‘need to have you now’ kind of guy—and you really didn’t mind. Instead, he was an exceptionally respectful lover. He took his time, checked in with you to make sure you liked what he was doing. Missionary with eye contact. Seokjin didn’t fuck, he made love.

But when he unzips your dress, lets it pool at your feet, guides you to lay on the bed that you’d once shared—you feel like all he’s itching to do right now is fuck you.

It’s the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark as he takes in the matching set that was hidden under your dress—also pink. You’ve never seen this look on Seokjin before.

“This,” he murmurs, his fingers skimming over your clothed heat, forcing a gasp out of you. “This is new. Never seen it before.”

Suddenly, you understand what must be going through his head. Had you bought this for someone else? Had someone else slowly peeled it off of you, unwrapped you like a gift?

In reality, you haven’t slept with anyone else since you broke things off, too busy throwing yourself into work to think about it. Still, it’s nice to see the little flicker of jealousy in his expression, the tick in his jaw.

You look up at him, biting back a smug grin. “You like it?”

“Mmm,” he hums in affirmation, fingers finding your clit with an ease that only someone who knows your body like he does could manage. “Very much.”

Seokjin forces a moan out of you as he rubs you in circles, soaking the fabric of your panties with the wetness that had built up during the ride to his apartment.

“I bought it last week,” you gasp out, quelling his worries in an instant. It would be nice, of course, to torture him a little bit longer, but the burning need between your legs is getting too difficult to bear. “Needed something that wouldn’t show through the dress.”

“So you bought it for me, too,” he smirks, tilting his head at you. The bastard. “You know, like the dress.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you grumble, although the way you squeeze your eyes shut and grind against his fingers tells a different story.

“Oh noooo, don’t kill me.” Seokjin grins, withdrawing his fingers to instead hook them into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs. “At least wait until after I make you cum. You’d be punishing yourself otherwise.”

Cocky motherfucker. You sit up on your elbows, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you open your eyes to look at him, you stop short.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes wide as he stares down at your pussy. It’s a testament to how wrecked he is at the sight—Seokjin doesn’t curse often. “So beautiful…”

“Jin,” you gasp as he spreads you open with his thumbs, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth as he discovers how much you’re dripping for him. “Don’t tease.”

“I won’t tease, baby,” he says silkily, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your thighs. “You know I have to work you open, though. No way you’ll be able to take me otherwise.”

You gasp when he sinks to his knees, cry out when he wraps his lips around your clit, laving over you with his tongue. When your hands fly down to his shoulders, holding him there, he hums in approval and you earn a deft finger sliding into you.

“M-more,” you moan, your back arching when that finger crooks up, rubbing expertly at your inner walls. “More, please…”

He pulls back, focusing his efforts on stretching you open with his fingers, two now. “Since you asked so nicely,” he says with a smug smirk.

By the time he adds a third you’re basically incoherent, right on the edge. You feel like you’re going to cum any second, writhing and moaning as your muscles tense in anticipation, but Seokjin withdraws as soon as he catches on.

“Not so fast,” he says, ignoring the way you whine at the loss, pussy clenching helplessly around nothing. Fuck, you feel so empty. “You know how I want you to cum, baby.”

Fucking tease. Fine, if he wants to be like that, maybe you will have an opportunity to torture him a little bit.

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, you look up at Seokjin as your hands find the front of his pants. You give him a squeeze, biting back a smirk when he practically whimpers at the contact.

“Y/N—”

“I wanna ride you, Jinnie,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes as you unzip his pants and teasingly push them down his legs.

“Yeah, okay,” he wheezes, nodding jerkily. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. Cute, you think. You haven’t seen him like this since the first handful times you had sex, months after you started dating. Despite having had sex before, it took him a while to stop being a blushing mess. It fills you with satisfaction that not having you for so long has brought this side out in him again.

Once the rest of his clothes are shed and you’ve very slowly rolled a condom onto him—much to Seokjin’s embarrassment—you guide him to sit up against his headboard, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks. His eyes are fixed on yours, searching.

“With the amount of times I’ve taken your stupid big cock, you really think I don’t know when I’m ready?” you tease, guiding his tip to slide between your folds.

All of the embarrassment is suddenly gone as Seokjin grips your ass firmly. “Yeah? Then take it,” he practically growls, making you shiver.

You slooooowly ease yourself down just the slightest bit, but the stretch of Seokjin’s cock is overwhelming after such a long time without it. All of the air is stolen from your lungs as you work him in, inch by agonizing inch.

“That’s it,” Seokjin says, his hands rubbing over your thighs soothingly. “You okay?”

“‘M good,” you manage, your hands gripping at his forearms as you sink down deeper. Once he’s fully sheathed, you take a long moment to catch your breath, feeling the way he pulses inside of you.

Once you feel ready, you give an experimental roll of your hips, testing the waters. You both moan in unison, and when you look up at Seokjin it’s clear he’s using all of his restraint not to fuck up into you.

“God,” he grits out, pained. “You feel so good.”

“You do, too,” you moan, setting a slow rhythm for yourself as you fuck yourself on his cock. “Always feel good, Jinnie.”

He surges forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making you gasp into his mouth. Your kisses are sloppy, unable to maintain any finesse as your movements become more confident, more desperate.

When he decides you can take it, his hips start to snap up to meet yours.

“Fuck,” you moan against his lips, overwhelmed by the intensity. “God—Jin, holy shit.”

“Look so good on my cock,” he groans, pulling back from the kiss to watch the way you bounce in his lap, his tongue darting out run over his bottom lip. “‘M never gonna get tired of seeing you like this.”

You’re going to cum. You were already close before, but now—with the way he’s gazing at you, with the feeling of him inside of you—you’re so close to tipping over the edge it’s making your head spin.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb. “Cum for me, baby. So beautiful.”

That’s all it takes. The pleasure is overwhelming, your muscles tightening as you muffle a cry into his shoulder. Seokjin lets out a low moan, his thrusts turning erratic under you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

You’re limp on top of him, moaning incoherently as Seokjin chases his own release, the sounds of his hips slamming up against your ass rattling around in your ears.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans as he spills into you. He slows to a stop, both of you panting as his forehead presses against yours. Eyes squeezed shut, you fumble blindly for his hands to lace your fingers with his, still catching your breath.

It feels so right, being with him like this again. You were afraid, at first, that there was too much baggage between you for it to feel this good. But sitting here now, both of you glowing with pleasure, all of that fear is gone.

“Seokjin,” you pant, squeezing his hands. “Don’t let me leave again. If we’re going to do this, I need you to fight for me.”

When you open your eyes, Seokjin is grinning at you stupidly. He looks so, so fond that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“I already told you, I’m not losing you again,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Good,” you say, a soft smile playing at your lips.

It feels like a moment. You’re both exactly where you should be, wrapped up in each other as if you’d never been apart in the first place.

“...Are you going to tell me you love me while my dick is still inside you?” he teases, his grin growing even wider.

Huffing, you smack at his chest, earning a wheezing laugh from him.

“I do love you, you idiot,” you complain. Kim Seokjin, the king of ruining moments, seriously.

“I know, baby,” he says, stifling his laughter enough to kiss you softly. “I love you, too.”

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this fic! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

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hoseoksluna · 2 months ago

Text

THE FUN DAY, pt. II. | kth

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, a little angst

word count: 5.0k

summary: you didn't prepare a fun day this time, but it became more than that.

pin: tba. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

note: this was the first fic, during which i absolutely sobbed my heart out. i never had this happen to me and i'm sure you'll feel it as you read. please, show me your love. enjoy. <3

An abandoned woman can weep, but an abandoned boy can weep not. Uncried affliction pains the most, even love, when seven mountains repose between it, the seven mountains of hard rocks.

I have two small windows, I have two big eyes, but writings I have none that would drift, at dusk, upon my table, reminiscent of an ivory cloud, and that would say: people love each other, man!

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — The Evening by Jiří Wolker

Paris was chilled to the marrow, yet embraced by winter. Dotted with mute stars and coruscating lights, life and poetry that were missing syllables—as if it were trying to speak, trying to converse, but something was prying its fingers inside their mouth, not allowing them to let out a sound.

That’s precisely how you felt within the depth of your afternoon nap.

The Eiffel Tower tried with all its monumental might to say something. The cafés with their myriads of intellectual words, glasses of wine and desserts strained their throats much to their dismay. You gazed upon it all—and you felt it deeply, their forced inability that wasn’t theirs at all. You wore nothing but a flimsy, tattered white T-shirt that has seen its better days, an item of cotton that belonged to Taehyung, and your feet were bare on the cobblestones, scratched and raw, though not cold. In spite of it, you feared for your baby. Feared the cold, that you did not sense, would touch it and bring something unfortunate to its developing body. And you drifted like this through your dream, carrying fear and pity. For the whole vastness of Paris, forbidden to speak; and for the smallest of Paris inside your belly, unable to speak yet.

You drifted and stood, gazing and gazing. Wanted to leave. Wanted to go back to your apartment, but you couldn’t. Your guilt kept you in your place while your fear strangled you until you were blue.

No people in sight and you were dying. Blue and pregnant, blue and abandoned. Blue and maddened—within the realm of dreams, that is.

And then just as you internally reach for Jimin, as you have many times since October, a hand is brushing through your hair, stirring you awake, stealing you away from the tragedy of it all. And the sensation of iciness prickling the tips of your toes is what you feel first, the heft of the large palm on the crown on your head second.

A tearful whimper gushes out of your throat, the awareness that you’re no longer rooted in your dream making your body squirm under the fleece blanket. The fear punctures through the flesh of your heart one more time before it escapes through the crooked center of your shoulder blades.

And there’s a figure sitting by the edge of your bed, nestled in the arc of your folded legs and rounded form.

And it’s no longer afternoon.

You blink in the dark, try to make out what is happening and before your sleepy brain comprehends who that large figure is, your heart knows.

Your heart smells the autumn spices of his being. Apples, pumpkin and cinnamon, despite being clouded by the wintry air. It hasn’t seen him in three months, but it knows him.

It knows him intimately.

“Taehyung?” your heart whispers, the sound coming out of your throat loosely, yet with a piercing pain that is greater than the fear you felt.

The autumn boy sighs, enveloping you in the homely snugness that you missed, that you lacked all this time. You reach for his hand, blindly, finding it somewhere on his lap, and upon that first contact, he speaks.

“Hi, baby,” he croaks out, the words new and untouched by this strange reality—as if he saved them for this very moment, keeping them deep in his clavicles all those months. “I’m home.”

The noise that leaves you could be mistaken for a saddened sob, but it’s one of such absolute joy. The autumn boy coos, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. The yellow light shows him to you and you discover that the autumn boy isn’t a boy at all.

Taehyung is a man.

Short, black hair decorates his forehead in a sweet, seemingly youthful way that is painstakingly oxymoronic. His bulbous cheeks are pallid, carrying the weight of the winter in them—new, new winter that you barely even recall basking in with him. They hold up his boxy smile, though, something that you never shall forget. And lingering your eyes there, the sight is surreal.

So surreal that you lift a hand and caress that meaningful cheek, coloring it in a rose tint that grows warm in your palm.

A man of all rose gardens and sculptures that are alive.

And when he tilts his face into your touch, your heart swells to such an extent that you spring up into a sitting position and melt into him within a clasp. A warm, a real clasp.

He’s real.

He’s here.

His hair is silkily soft, the tresses of an angel that takes care of flowers such as these. The skin upon the nape of his neck is feverish, as is the torso of his body that you half press up against. He didn’t feel this warm when you were wandering unknowingly in your imagination. And when you pull back to make sure that what you’re seeing isn’t that figment of that damned imagination of yours, he ascertains to you that he is real by letting his boxy smile quiver.

It quivers; it is not frozen in place. Beautiful still, but not frozen. Quivering with the heft of all the emotions due to your reunion.

And when you slide your palm down his chest, his two perfect lungs lift to kiss it, just to fall and kiss it again. Over and over again.

Large chest. Large shoulders. Large biceps.

And large eyes that melt into chocolate pools as he deepens your shared gaze, studying the way you’re comprehending his presence. He gives you all the time in the world, as if understanding that his absence was too long and, tenderly, you break.

Tears rush to your irises while you acknowledge your soul with the principle of it all by tracing his body with your fingers. The veins of his hand, thumping under your touch, that are the roots of the trees that watch over the roses in his garden. So full of life and present time. The forearms that aren’t hidden by the tweed of his usual suits, but clothed in the plush of an off-white zipper jacket that your heart mourns. A clash of what you’re used to and the reality.

He must have gotten off the plane at this hour. His duffel bag must be somewhere in the living room, abandoned now in place of you.

You’re no longer abandoned. He’s here.

You’re no longer delirious. He’s here.

He was supposed to come in the morning. That’s what he said in your last phone call, where he let you in on what Jimin had done for the both of you. Your response to his promise in October manifested in the following months, but Jimin fought against it. Knelt before the feet of the man he’s afraid of and begged. Begged the Sergeant to make that call and allow Taehyung to have his vacation. Begged until his knees bruised and his hands left a wet print on the dirty floor.

And the Sergeant softened, impressed by his strong will and the respect he showed him. Nodded his head and made it so Taehyung leaves by the end of the year. Did so well in North Korea, protected his military brothers before himself, the Sergeant interceded with those facts and off Taehyung went.

Off to catch a plane in December.

I’ll be home on New Year’s Eve, Taehyung said over the phone to you, and somehow he must’ve seen the pout that was forming on your mouth because he added a reassuring I know right after.

You didn’t understand why he couldn’t have come a day earlier, but now you see that you didn’t have to understand it.

Because Taehyung made it.

He came home on his birthday.

You press your face against the side of his, your arms back around his neck. “My love,” you whisper and gently squirm, for you feel a movement in your belly. You open your eyes, brushing your lashes across his rose petal cheek, smiling a smile that quivers just like his. That is first movement of your baby that you ever felt. The tears pour out, watering the soft skin. You kiss the pathway it created, only to stray away and go up, nudging your nose against his. Let out breaths of your overwhelmingness against him like this. Feel that your baby spoke to you, spoke in the only way it can, telling you to tell him. And you do. Finally, you do—after nearly six months. “I have a gift for you.”

Humming, his long fingers find the back of your head, his arm caging you in as he buries his digits into the waterfall of your tousled hair, grown thicker now due to your pregnancy.

You didn’t make any plans for tomorrow, fearful it would turn misfortunate like it did in October. And because his return is so sudden, so unexpected, telling him now feels more than right. Feels divine, feels memorable, the destiny propelled by your baby.

Within the snug atmosphere of your embrace, you travel with your hand on a journey across his back far longer than it used to be, down his strong arm until you wind up at his fingers. You take them and place them on your swollen belly, bigger now than it used to be as well.

Both of you changed in different ways.

“Happy birthday,” you breathe out, the words accompanied by your strangled sobs, and just like the cafés, the Eiffel Tower and the life and the poetry of Paris in your drowsy, afternoon dream, Taehyung doesn’t say anything.

Not for a while.

His lungs pause. The moisture of his lips crumbles into dryness like a withering blossom. His eyelids remain unmoving, irises fixed on a spot you cannot see because you cannot stop gazing at his evident shock.

One he begins to wake up from when the baby kicks against his hand.

He blinks, a heavy breath gusts out of his lips, upon which he runs his tongue. He turns his head to face you, no longer smiling, but trembling. A film of wetness clouds his sparkling eyes and you think the wholeness of the magnificence of the Eiffel Tower is in them, perhaps even greater than it. And against the place the baby kicked, it rests with their small body, drawn to their Daddy’s warmth. And it is only then that your tears and his, at last and in tandem, fall out. And along with it—every stress you ever felt regarding not being able to conceive.

“We did it?” he asks, carefully, his voice raspy, quiet and deep, wanting to hear it from you first before he looks down, and you can merely nod. He whimpers, sniffling, glancing into your eyes with such depth that it moves through you, sealing something within you. Perhaps joy, perhaps satisfaction with life, perhaps the boundless love that you feel for him, and you want to stay in this moment for far longer than time allows you. But it is foolish, this want of yours. Because when Taehyung finally looks down at your belly, it is a moment that is slowly and surely carving itself into your skin, your flesh and your bloodline. For your baby to see in the future. He fondles the rounded valley of their little body and comes to terms with it, vividly. His sobs stream out, pained but ebullient, and there his mouth cracks that boxy smile. Real, colorful, shining. “We did it.”

You nod again, the warmth of his hand boiling, homely, so right. “We did it, Taehyung.”

His eyes flick to yours and as they close, he closes his fingers around the back of your neck as well and kisses you. Boiling, homely, right and real.

Not a figment of your imagination. Not your delirium, caused by your abandonment, by the other end of your love that missed him.

This is reality. This is the present moment.

Taehyung deepens the kiss and in it you feel the gladness of his being, the words ‘finally’ that begin to unfold down your throat, hasty to meet your baby in your belly.

And Taehyung is hasty, too.

Breaking the kiss, he leans down and presses his lips against that rounded valley. Peppers a hundred, a thousand, a million kisses against that part of the baby’s body. Lingers there, cheek against it, head on your thigh, and breathes.

You let him bask in it for as long as he needs, raking your fingers through his short hair. And your teardrops fall onto his colored cheek when he begins to talk to his baby.

“Daddy’s here, little one,” he says, his tone mellifluous, his lips brushing against their body with each pronounced word—just like Jimin’s thumb brushed against your small belly at the time when he held your hand outside of the jazz club. “Daddy loves you so much. He can’t wait to meet you, but he has to finish his military service first and then he’ll be home for good. With you and Mommy. I’ll take care of you both. I’ll never leave again.”

You swipe away your tears from his cheek and Taehyung straightens. Kisses your lips. Kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and hugs you as if he never hugged you before, three hearts connected in that embrace when he pulls you onto his lap and holds you.

He inhales your scent, your hair, the sleep you emerged out of, tracing patterns on your back. And then the sweetest form of interrogation happens.

He brushes your hair back with both hands, keeping it in place behind your ears. “How far along are you?”

You can’t halt the bloom of the grin on your face, the question reminding you of Jimin. “Five months. Six next week.”

He reciprocates the smile, but as he begins to do the math, it withers. “So your due date is in May?”

The corners of your mouth downturn. You haven’t allowed yourself to fully think about the time in the near future in terms of you giving birth, knowing the pain it would bring. You’re aware you should prepare yourself for it, so the worst doesn’t happen, but you also don’t want to prematurely cause harm to your baby with that stress.

Your emotions are in shambles. They are a threat and you wish they weren’t.

“May 30th is my due date, but it doesn’t mean I give birth on that day. I can give birth in June, too. It depends on the baby.” You laugh, softly and shortly. “Can you take a leave?”

You can see him racking his brain, his features solemn and tense. “I get discharged on June 10th and I don’t know if the commander will allow me…” he trails off, briefly looking away before finding his way back to your eyes. “Don’t worry about that. It’s my responsibility. I’ll be here. You won’t be alone during your first childbirth, I promise you that. I’ll be here. Do you trust me?”

Without a shadow of doubt, you do, and so you don’t hesitate to nod your head and express it through your own words. “I do, Taehyung. I trust you.”

He smiles, the blush in his cheeks deepening its hue. “Good.”

He kisses you, gently, and it’s a kiss of such romantic affection that you forget about the threat of the stress, the threat of him not being here during your childbirth. You melt into him, basking in the demonstration of his love for you, of the pride he feels because of the way you trust in him. You can enormously feel it all, as if it was written on his lips and you could read it.

He’s daubed in this resplendent romance as he withdraws. Coated in sweat, he’s so refulgent that you dissolve, falling in love with him all over again. Your inner child swoons and you sense her emotions, as though you were her in the autumn of your childhood, being caught by him during a chase, surrounded by pumpkins and apples. The emotions she felt when she looked at him more differently than she ever did in her lifetime and realized that she wants to marry him and have a baby with him.

That undreamed dream came true. And somehow that is healing her. Somehow, that allows her to rest peacefully, having drawn her last breath.

Taehyung kisses your chin. And kisses her goodbye at the same time. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

You shake your head. “The doctor asks you at the five month check-up if you want to know the gender, but because you weren’t with me, I didn’t want to. My next check-up is next week, though. We can find out together.”

You expect him to smile at that, but Taehyung frowns, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry you had to go to these check-ups all alone. I’ll go with you this time, baby.”

The anguish you had buried in yourself deep resurfaces. Maybe that is one of the reasons why you were so delirious in October. You had to go through the final stage to adulthood all by yourself, abandoned.

Something tells you to tell him, but shame holds you back, twisting your tongue. You furrow your brows, breaking free of the amorous eye contact you had with Taehyung, and he immediately catches onto the shadowed side of your emotions.

He grasps it into his hand, like he so very often grips your hair. “What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, still looking away. “Did Jimin tell you anything about the day you were supposed to have your vacation?”

There’s an interlude between his response and you glance at him to see him drifting through the library of his memories. With furrowed brows, just like your own.

“I only spoke to Jimin once and he asked me if my commander allowed me to have his vacation. That’s how I found out he was willing to give it up for me, but I didn’t know why,” he says, lifting his head from the myriads of life-records, uncertainty and confusion covering his eyes. “But I didn’t get his vacation. My commander gave me a reward vacation because of what I did in the north. Why did Jimin want to give up his vacation for me?”

The shame inches closer, scratching your back, but for your baby, you shake it away. Decide to tell him because you trust him and because you can tell him anything without the fear of prejudice.

“Because I went mad on that day,” you start, straight and flat. Taehyung widens his eyes, but then his brows lower down, as if they were saying, excuse me? Anger eclipses his face, one that feels safe, though. “I imagined you being here with me. I planned this fun day with you and Jimin, taking you on a walk through the park on the way to the jazz club, where you kissed me for the first time. I wanted to tell you about the baby. Jimin was supposed to honor you for your mission in the north by singing, but I ruined everything. Nobody saw you when I saw you very clearly… until I didn’t.”

Pensiveness smooths out over his anger that boils, quietly. And once again, like Paris in your dream, he doesn’t say anything at all. He contemplates the information you’ve given him and the patterns he’d been engraving into your back reach their end, no longer circling on their own without his assistance.

“Why didn’t he tell me any of this?” he asks, keeping his voice low, so his anger doesn’t touch you. “I should've known…”

There was no contact between you and him for the two months he was on his mission, and phone calls were forbidden. It seems as though he’s dwelling on this fact as he doesn’t finish his sentence, rooting his eyesight on your lips, absentmindedly.

Jimin said one month, but he was wrong.

North is brutal. Too, too brutal.

Thank God Taehyung came out unscathed.

Another interlude of foreign, but not entirely uncanny silence settles in between and, blinking rapidly, Taehyung sighs. Brushes your hair back one last time before he takes your hands in his. A gesture of absolute genuineness, a foreshadowing to his following words.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his voice throaty. “I’m sorry for not being here. I’m sorry for being so far away. And I’m sorry our dream came true when I have to be away.”

His pity cuts through you, reminiscent of your dream, and you realize that the pity you felt in that other world wasn’t yours. It was his, and the element of the inability to speak was the principle of him not being here and not being able to react. It’s all connected—your dream told you about his return and about his feelings. And you felt them because you’re a part of him, carrying his child.

You soften, seized by it all, and you hide your face in his neck, fading into him. “It’s okay. You’re here now. Maybe it was supposed to happen now. We both changed, didn’t we? We grew up.”

He forces you to look at him and the pity on his face breaks you. The rose petals in his cheeks died, the smooth surface now swirls with pallidness once again. His brown pools are glossy with the depth of that emotion, millions of words swimming in them. He can’t say them, he can’t catch up to them, and when he closes his eyes, presses his forehead against yours and sighs, you’re aware of how hard this is for him.

You had five months to come to terms with this star-crossed situation. He’s barely had an hour.

“I want to be here for you. I want to help you. I don’t want to leave you alone with the baby,” he murmurs against you, squeezing your hands to make you understand how much this means to him, and you allow the wall, which you had built up along with Jimin to keep your mind and your emotions safe, to collapse, completely. Fresh tears drip down your cheeks, your chin trembling. “Have you had any morning sickness?”

You nod, recollecting your first nausea in the first trimester when Jimin was still around. “Yes, it started when Jimin was here. He was there for me. Until he had to go back to Korea.”

A war flashes on his face and, right away, he lets you know which side has won. “I want to be here for you, not Jimin. Do you understand me?”

You open your mouth in shock because you still, faithfully, remember the words he spoke to you in your imagination. Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone. And with shock comes the realization that the chapter ends. It is the final puzzle piece, the last enlightenment you needed—because in reality, Taehyung didn’t say those words. Taehyung didn’t give his blessing for Jimin to take care of you in his absence. Your own ego did.

Taehyung mistakens your silence and your comprehension of that for displeasure, and he clicks his tongue in regret, sighing your name.

“I’m glad Jimin was there for you, don’t get me wrong, but I just wish it was me. Who knows if I ever get a chance to be your partner in this again,” he spills out, truthfully, and watches as another rivulet of tears trickles down your face. He wipes them away, blinking his own away, too. “I want to rub your back, baby. I want to watch your belly grow big. I want to tie your shoes, bring you food and buy baby clothes with you. I don’t want Jimin to do that because it’s my job. It’s my duty.”

You understood him then and you understand him now. Agree with him as that truth anchors in your heart. Jimin was kind to do what he did and you’re grateful for it. Without him, you’d be roaming in your delusions. And Taehyung needs to know that he helped you with that first and foremost.

“Jimin wasn’t my partner in that, Taehyung,” you croak out, inhaling deeply so your sentences flow out better. “I agree with you that it’s your job and I also want it to be you. But what Jimin did was save me from my own mind. I was lost without you, pregnant and alone, and he kept those delusions far away from me. I needed that. I needed a friend.”

Taehyung nods, understanding, caressing your tear-stained face. The color percolates back to his cheeks, little by little. And you can see a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

Calmness expands in your sternum.

“I will give him my thanks for that,” he settles, kissing your temple, leaving his lips there, against that intimate place. “You won’t be left alone with your mind again. I’ll try my hardest to be there for you, to keep in touch. I’ll talk to my commander. I’ll do anything. But I promise you won’t have those delusions again because you’ll be busy with me.”

The last tears that surge out are of relief and you hug him, squeeze him in gratitude. “Thank you, Taehyung. I love you.”

He sinks his fingers into the patterns he engraved into your back, rocking you side to side in that embrace, his lips by your ear. “I love you, baby. I’ll buy you a big house. We’ll go on a shopping spree next week and get all the things the little one needs. I’ll take care of you both.”

You kiss him and in the middle of that expression of affection, the baby kicks again. Taehyung feels it against his own tummy and he grins and laughs into the kiss, lifting you up with utmost ease and setting your feet down on the carpet near the record player by the wall.

And the music he begins to play isn’t of the jazz kind he loves so much. He put down a vinyl that bears Billie Eilish’s face and when Halley’s Comet sounds out throughout the bedroom, he takes your hand and drifts on the carpet with you.

Not under the brown, dimmed lights of the jazz club, but under the yellow lights of the bedroom where you reached the beginning journey of your adulthood. And now as you dance with him, pregnant with his baby, you feel as much as an adult as a human can possibly feel like one.

The final stage.

Everything changes with this song.

Halley’s Comet comes around more than I do…

Taehyung doesn’t come often, but he’s here now. Big and buff, cinnamon, apples and pumpkin. The boy you loved turned into a man that you love even more.

From a baby boy friend to a baby Daddy.

And as he looks down into your eyes, he asks you what names you want to give to the baby. And you whisper it to him, letting yourself be led into a dance of adulthood.

“Perfect,” he whispers back, kissing you and staying there for as long as he needs, for as long as you need because you grip his shoulder with all your might, afraid to let him go.

Because after he piles up your apartment with the crib, the stroller, the high chair, the diapers and so many non-colorful baby clothes that you need another set of furniture, he has to leave again. And you cry so hard that you can’t get any words out. But Taehyung hears them. He hears them in the hundreds of kisses you exchange and he hears them in the last hug you give him and in the last goodbye you say to him.

And he comes back on May 29th, bigger and more buff than he was, prepared to be a Daddy. Spends the day moving into the new house he bought you with Jimin as his help and no one else. Paints the baby’s room pink because you’re having a baby girl that he grew his muscles for to protect her.

His commander gave him a special leave and forbade him from coming back and finishing his service. Apparently, the man himself has five children and four grandchildren. Is a softie when it comes to them.

And when Taehyung is done with the house and sits with you on your new couch, he announces it to the baby girl. Your home is ready, little one. You can come out now. And he laughs so hard that the delightful sound pulses through the walls, taking a sip of his soda.

And she does come out the next day, sharing the same number of her birth date with her Daddy. Taehyung holds your hand, as calm as the spring wind, as you push her out. Breathes with you, guides you, controls your inhales and exhales. Keeps his lips pressed against your temple—and he purses his lips against the same spot on the baby girl’s head once he holds her.

And Taehyung looks at you, and you look at him. Joyful tears fall, in tandem, with his.

And the happy event repeats two years later. What Taehyung feared the most didn’t come true. He watched your belly grow with his second child while holding the hand of the first. He rubbed your back while you threw up the breakfast he had learned to make for you. He tied your shoes when you couldn’t bend down due to your large bump, his daughter standing beside him, watching his every move, learning about love from him. And he bought colorful clothes for the baby with its gender already in mind.

Blue, brown, green and beige.

A baby boy for the baby girl. A reversed picture of you and him, growing together.

And as your babies grow together, you grow old with Taehyung, too.

And he never leaves. Never again.

And he buys you tulips of all colors every single week, whose sweet scent the children inhale and whose pink hues color their cheeks. And they play with Uncle Jimin until he brings them cousins to utterly fall in love with.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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