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ahgasegotarmy116 · 10 months ago

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He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Six

Summary: Taehyung gets careless and breaks your heart yet again. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 2.2K~ Warnings: Talks of Cancer, money struggles and past abuse but nothing crazy. a/n: Again it's taken me over two weeks to get a chapter out so I'm sorry! It's just a little one to focus on Jungkook a little bit but he'll go more into depth later on in the story so this is just a little taste. Hope you like it! Start from the beginning

Walking into the Blue Pearl feels like going back in time again, except this time it feels warm and welcoming and seeing the sight of Rae's face light up at the sight of me makes the struggles of the past fade to black, solely focusing on the events of tonight.

"Hey stranger, it's about time your fine ass showed up again, the usual?" she questions sending me a wink and I nod as a way to answer her question. "Sorry, life has been hectic lately. How are you? How's the Pearl?" I ask after having learned that she's co owner and has devoted a lot of blood sweat and tears into this place.

"She's staying afloat. Luckily we haven't had too many rowdy groups lately so no big bar fights or anything exciting like that" she jokes while she places my Slut Puppy on the counter in front of me.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of being graced with your presence my lady?" she teases while cleaning up the tools she used to make my drink. "I'm meeting Jungkook, but I also wanted to see you because I miss your cute face" I say giving her a wink like she had to me.

"Girl you're horrible at flirting you know that right?" she laughs, leaving my cheeks heating up at the embarrassment. "But I'll give you bonus points because you're adorable" she says before going to tend to another patron.

"She's right you know" I hear a melodic voice say behind me, making me jump before turning around to face the owner of said voice seeing that it's a man with an alluring look that could charm any woman or man with a simple glance.

"I'm sorry what?" I ask, blinking a few times to regain touch with reality. "I said she's right you know? Because you really are adorable" he says making my cheeks heat up again, leaving me frozen and not knowing how to respond to his playful nature.

"I'm Jimin" he says offering his hand to me and I place mine in his. "I'm y/n" I say just loud enough for him to hear over the sound of the people around us. "Well Miss y/n mind if I sit with you?" he asks politely, making me think twice about how to shoot him down.

"I mind" I hear a recognizable deep voice say behind me, again making me jump at the sound. "Is she yours?" Jimin asks the newcomer and I hold my breath waiting for him answer.

"Yeah she is so I suggest you go find a seat somewhere else" he says while placing a protective hand on my forearm making my body shiver at the feeling of his cold fingers on my skin.

"Right. Nice meeting you y/n" he says giving me those bedroom eyes leaving me widening mine in response and he simply smiles at my clearly flustered reaction and continues on his way.

"Are you okay Noona?" Jungkook says while coming around to face me and sit on the stool that Jimin had been asking to sit on just moments ago.

"Yeah I'm fine, he was harmless" I respond, smiling at him as he looks past me to no doubt glare at Jimin, giving off a territorial vibe that I find adorable yet also extremely attractive but I clear my throat to get those thoughts out of my head and hopefully get his attention back on me.

"How was work today?" I ask him as I take into account the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled state, making me feel bad about dragging him out tonight. "It was fine" he says while turning to wave at Rae and she nods in acknowledgment and gets him his usual High Ball.

"That's all? You look pretty tired for having a fine day" I joke, as a way to instill a playful mood as he seems a bit tense and I'm not sure if it's just from the interaction with Jimin.

"Is everything okay?" I question, placing a hand on his shoulder and I feel him tense at the feeling leaving me retreating and placing my hand back into my lap.

"I'm sorry Noona I'm just really stressed out but let's focus on you okay? How's your writing going? Did you get over that writer's block you've been having?" he questions, addressing a struggle I had told him about a few days prior.

"Yeah I went with making the characters go through a sort of financial ruin to drive them apart but make the main character finds the people who truly appreciate them without all the monetary value that people usually see when they look at her" I say and he nods along and thanks Rae when she brings him his drink before taking a sip and turning his full attention back on me.

"Although now that I'm saying it out loud it sound kind of boring" I chuckle before taking a sip of my drink as well. "From what you've told me about the story so far I feel like that could fit the plot so don't worry. I'm sure once you sit at your desk and do your little writing magic on it then it'll all work out" he says cutely to purposefully make me laugh and I take the bait, laughing right along with him.

"Thank you" I say after a second. "For what?" he asks curiously, tilting his head like a confused puppy like he always does. "For coming out tonight and, I don't know, just being you" I say giving him a slight smile and he softens up at my words. "That was cheesy wasn't it?" I ask him and he scrunches his nose and starts giggling at me.

"Jeon Jungkook has this whiskey already gone to your head?" I question, laughing and shaking my head at his adorableness. "I think I'm just really tired so the alcohol is hitting a bit different tonight" he chuckles but calms down a few moments later.

~~~~~

"You should try to take a break sometime" I say after we've joked around a while and had some laughs, now riding out the night with the sound of everyone else drowned into the background.

"What do you mean by that?" he asks, his eyes looking a little sleepier than at the start of the night. "I know you work almost every day of the week, and somedays you even work nights and I don't know. I'm worried about you" I say and I notice how his figure slumps at my words.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm telling you what to do but you should try to set some time aside to relax" I say and he nods his head, listening to my words. "That's what I'm doing right now silly" he says, clearly trying to steer me away from the topic.

"You know what I mean Jungkook. I just don't want you to run yourself into the ground" I say and he stops and waits a while, looking down, seemingly trying to come up with the right words to say and takes a deep breath before looking back up at me.

"I can't" are the two words he says with his eyes now full of stars but this time not of joy but of sorrow. "Jungkook what's wrong?" I question now fully in panic mode, not having seen him like this before. "You know how I said I have younger siblings?" he starts and I nod my head, encouraging him to continue.

"Well the reason why I live with my mom and the three of them is because my dad has been in the hospital for the past few years" he says and I immediately reach for his hand to hold it and wait silently for him to continue. "He got injured at his job and then later on after the doctors examined him they found something else" he says and takes a deep breath in and a shaky breath out before continuing.

"The found a tumor" he says and I take in a breath at the words, not knowing how to react but deciding to just hold his hand tighter. "He's been doing chemotherapy and radiation therapy and so his hospital bills have been piling up and with my mom trying to work and take care of the kids and pay the regular bills and the hospital bills I just couldn't stand seeing her struggle like that. So I moved back in with them and have been working odd jobs ever since" he says and lets out a shaky breath again and stays silent for a while.

"Jungkook I had no idea you were going through something like this. Why haven't you told me?" I ask with a soft voice. "You're always wanting to help me while I'm struggling so why haven't you come to me and let me help you too?" I continue, drawing circles on the back of his hand that I'm holding.

"I wanted to help you since I knew that something was wrong and I didn't want to give you something else you had to worry about" he explains, sniffling a bit and looking back up at me. "Oh baby" I coo at him, wiping the sides of his eyes at I see there are a few tears that started to prickle in them.

"I'm fine Noona" he laughs at seeing how concerned I've gotten about him. "I just wanna be there for you too" I say, looking down at our conjoined hands. "I know" he says and silence between us lingers for a second before he speaks again.

"Thank you" he says and I bring my eyes back up to his and catch how he's looking at me almost as if he adores me or something. "For what?" I ask, slightly breathless from the intimacy of this moment that I only Just noticed. "For listening to me" he says with a sad smile, his starry eyes a bit dimmer but sparkle all the same.

"You're welcome" I say smiling back at him and holding his hand just a little tighter

~~~~

A we finish our drinks and talk for a while before he asks me if he can walk me home.

"You really don't have to do this" I say to him after waving goodbye to Rae and turning our backs to walk out. "I know, but I want to. Plus this little walk will help sober me up a bit more so it'll be good for me as well" he say and I nod my head, surrendering to him and his logic.

"When did Taehyung say that he would be back?" he asks as we start on our journey, he's always asking questions and making sure that I'm safe but he also respects my boundaries when I set them.

"Tomorrow morning I think but I never really know. I just hope that he hasn't come home yet but so far he hasn't really found out about the few times I've left the house recently" I inform him and he nods his head in looking as if he's trying to formulate his next question correctly.

"Can you promise me you won't get mad if I ask you something?" he says, rushing the words out before he has the chance to back down. "I guess so" I laugh, curious but nervous as to what he would want to know.

"When was the last time Taehyung hurt you?" he asks and my steps falter for a second but I regain my footing moments later and clear my throat a bit to hopefully cover it up. "Um, well I guess it was a week or two ago. I don't really remember" I say, trying my best to stay truthful but honestly having tried my best to burry the memory.

He nods his head, again lost in thought and before he's able to say something else we've reached my apartment, leaving him trailing behind me as he walks me up to the door but stops me before I'm able to walk inside.

"Promise me you'll call me the next time things start getting bad" he blurts out and I stop in my tracks. "I'll email you my number so please, just promise me you'll call me. You gotta stop letting him treat you like this" he says and I nod my head after thinking for a second, knowing he's right.

"I will" I say, nodding my head and turning my eyes down to the floor in shame, scared of the prospects of having to do that but he lift my face back up to him by hooking a finger under my chin.

"Promise?" he asks, making purposeful eye contact with me, not giving me room to look elsewhere. "Promise" I surrender, knowing that although this might get messy it's the best choice I have right now.

"You don't have to endure this alone, just let me help you" he pleads and I nod my head and respond with a quick 'okay' before he pulls me in for a tight embrace.

After pulling away he places a kiss on my forehead that gives me a fluttery feeling in my stomach but I try my best to ignore it and stay level headed throughout the rest of our goodbyes.

"Goodnight Noona" he says and I nod my head and watch him go silently. I hope I work up the courage to leave Taehyung before I have to call him for that but I'll make sure to stick to our promise no matter what.

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whosnero · 6 months ago

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Empire Bay: Dragon's Blood.||

Credits: Original story written by whosnero.

Synopsis: “Set in the late 50s, Empire Bay becomes a rapidly growing metropolis in the United States. The Japanese Mafia takes over the city under the name of numerous clans, but the most important one is labeled as Shinryu (the real dragon). The story focuses on three characters (love triangle and drama): Karina (Jimin), with her high social status and dark nature, aspires to become the new Oyabun (leader) of the clan; Winter (Minjeong), the faithful right hand of the current Oyabun, has the support of her Kobun (clan mates). Despite the mutual contempt between the two, the arrival of Aria (Original OC), a young girl of Italian descent who only wants to help her family by working as a taxi driver, will intensify the rivalries between Karina and Winter."

Pairing: Karina(Yu Jimin),Winter(Kim Minjeong) x Aria(Fem/OC)

Genre:“Mafia,Mature,Explicit content,Violence,Drama,Romance,Love triangle,Power struggle, Organized Crime,Historical Fiction,Difference in social status.”

Warning:“Graphic violence,sexual content,dark themes, explicit language,grammar mistakes (eng not my first language),drug abuse,weapons,physical abuse,emotional abuse,gore, supernatural powers..may add more”

Status:“On going.”

Updates: “When i'm free and have time or whenever i can.”

Chapters: (may change names)||

1. The dance of the wolves.

2. Macabre feast.

3. Eden's Gate.

4. The devil's trill.

5. Chain reaction.

6. Poison.

7. House of the rising sun.

(More to add..)

#whosnero #aespa x fem reader #kim minjeong smut #kpop smut #aespa smut #fem oc #yu jimin smut #yu jimin #aespa x reader #karina x reader #kpop x reader #wlw #original story #smut #mafia au #romance #historical fiction #original character

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webkoo · 7 months ago

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bts!ot7 × leitora ──★ dividindo … sinopse: seu namorado cometeu o erro (ou acerto) de perguntar aos seus amigos o que eles queriam ver... :) english version on @kooqitas

#contém: pwp, sexo grupal, boquete, oral violento, fingering, humilhação, degradação, cuspe, esperma, uso gratuito, aftercare mencionado.

#notas: essa história é bem fetichista, você tá sendo literalmente deposito de porra de sete caras. :)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

você veria seus amigos depois de meses, desde que você e jungkook estavam morando juntos vocês não se viam, o que era engraçado porque vocês eram amigos de anos, mas há alguns meses vocês simplesmente não conseguiam se ver, tudo dava errado de última hora.

"porra, cê tá tão gostosinha vestida assim, talvez se eu te comer só um pouquinho antes deles chegarem..." jungkook disse no seu ouvido, levantando sua saia e esfregando o dedo médio no seu buraquinho.

"namjoon me mandou mensagem, ele disse que chega em cinco minutos com os meninos."

"prometo que te faço gozar em cinco minutos."

você riu porque sabia que era verdade.

mas os outros seis caras estariam em sua porta em cinco minutos, e não apenas caras aleatórios, mas seus melhores amigos...

"sei que a gente transou ontem a noite, mas porra, eu preciso comer essa bucetinha de novo, eu tô viciado, preciso te comer toda hora, todo minuto, todo segundo, noite após noite..." diferente da fala completamente suja, jungkook beijava seu ombro calmamente.

"os meninos vão chegar daqui a pouco..."

"não seja malvada, me deixa abrir esse buraquinho, por favor..."

jungkook levou uma das mãos para a alça fina da sua camiseta, puxando para baixo e expondo seus peitos, ele te virou de frente para ele, e colocou a boca ali sem qualquer rodeio. você estava acostumada com a agilidade de jungkook e como ele sempre chupava seu mamilo como devoção.

e então a campainha tocou.

"jungkook, para, os meninos estão aqui!" você tentou parar seu namorado.

"tenho certeza que eles não ligariam de me ver te comendo, gatinha. e você também não ligaria de mostrar como esse buraquinho abre todo pra receber meu pau, né?"

porra, isso era uma verdade. você e jungkook eram um pior que o outro, mas mais do que mostrar, você facilmente deixaria os outros seis te usarem também.

"eu sei exatamente o que você ta pensando, putinha suja!" jungkook disse antes de voltar a chupar seu mamilo.

e então a campainha tocou de novo.

"merda!" ele reclamou, indo em direção a porta enquanto você tentava colocar suas roupas de volta no lugar.

quando os outros seis entraram na casa, você sorriu, sentia muita falta deles.

namjoon foi o primeiro a te abraçar, te deixando um beijo na testa de forma gentil, e merda, você havia visto fotos que ele havia postado na academia, mas ele estava... grande...

seokjin veio logo em seguida, o homem alto beijando sua mão antes de te dar um abraço.

e depois jimin veio, te dando um beijo molhado na bochecha como ele sempre, o loiro tinha um cheiro que facilmente molhava sua calcinha, puta merda que homem gostoso.

droga, jungkook não deveria ter te provocado.

você notou taehyung sussurrando algo para yoongi, que riu murmurando alguma coisa como "decência?" e foi aqui que você notou que, provavelmente pela saliva do jungkook, seus peitos estavam molhados, e graças a camiseta fina isso estava bem evidente.

"ah sim, vocês nos atrapalharam, eu estava quase comendo minha mulher e vocês chegaram!"

muitas coisas aconteceram nessa frase: jungkook te chamando de 'minha mulher' e principalmente, ele expondo o quase-sexo para todos os seus amigos. canalha.

não é como se eles não imaginassem a vida sexual ativa de vocês, vocês eram amigos muito antes de você e jungkook namorarem, os outros seis sabiam exatamente como você era, e jungkook também, era só somar 1+1, as vezes vocês conversavam sobre sexo no chat em grupo, mas era a primeira vez que falavam sobre algo assim ao vivo.

"se você quiser comer ela, eu não ligo, desde que eu possa assistir, não é como se eu nunca tivesse fodido vocês dois..." hoseok disse como se fosse um 'bom dia'

e isso era verdade, antes de jungkook, você já havia feito sexo com pelo menos quatro dos seus amigos, e o mesmo para jungkook, era muito fácil entender o porque do jeon não ter ciúmes.

"ah, eu posso então? eu realmente quero fazer isso" droga, jungkook era um pervertido.

"por favor, sinto falta dos peitos dela." namjoon confessou, relembrando o quanto ele amava estar por cima de você, chupando seu mamilo pra te ajudar a relaxar no pau grande dele.

"cara, respeita minha mulher!"

jungkook repreendeu namjoon, mas vocês sabiam que era apenas piada, principalmente quando seu namorado veio por trás de você, abaixando a alça da sua blusa novamente e expondo seus peitos para seus amigos.

se você parasse para pensar, talvez isso fosse loucura, seu namorado dividindo você com outros seis caras? outros seis caras que são SEUS AMIGOS.

mas por outro lado... você queria muito aquilo.

"mais alguém quer ver mais alguma coisa?" jungkook perguntou, fazendo você sentir sua calcinha molhar mais ainda, você se sentia uma vagabunda, um troféu, e isso não era uma reclamação.

"a calcinha dela." seokjin disse, te comendo com os olhos, porra, o máximo onde vocês chegaram foi uns beijinhos casuais em uma festa.

"eu quero algo." taehyung se manifestou. "quero ver ela de joelhos mamando meu pau."

"se ela for chupar o pau do taehyung, vai ter que chupar o meu também." yoongi disse.

"e o meu." jimin passou o polegar nos lábios.

"deixa eu ver se entendi." jungkook coçou a garganta. "vocês tão dizendo na minha cara que querem que minha mulher mame vocês?"

"foi você quem ofereceu ela igual uma prostituta." hoseok disse, tirando o próprio cinto.

merda, você nunca sentiu tanto tesão, seu namorado e seus amigos discutindo como se você não estivesse na sala.

"o que você acha, gatinha?"

"hm..." você andou até o sofá, sendo seguida pelos sete homens como se eles fossem cachorrinhos, e então removeu a saia e a blusa presa em sua cintura.

jungkook veio até você, te beijando e removendo a roupa dele, os dedos dele esfregaram lentamente na renda branca da sua calcinha e você gemeu na boca dele, seu namorado estava completamente excitado, apertando seus mamilos e fazendo você gemer ainda mais.

"minha vadiazinha é tão gananciosa, sete paus na boca? consegue lidar com isso?"

"eu preciso lidar..."

"isso mesmo, putinha!" ele te beijou mais uma vez. "vocês não merecem muito, apenas se organizem para beijar ela em pares... e vocês conhecem ela e a palavra dela, qualquer coisa fora da curva e eu sou capaz de matar cada um de vocês."

jungkook mal terminou e jimin e seokjin chegaram perto de você, jimin por trás, pressionando o pau já duro nas suas costas, e seokjin na sua barriga, naquele momento você queria os dois dentro de você, queria os dois paus te alargando e te enchendo, mas tudo que conseguiu foi seokjin chupando e mordiscando seus mamilos enquanto Jjmin te beijava e brincava com sua calcinha molhada.

você gemendo para os dois enquanto os outros cinco assistiam tudo.

você nem percebeu quando taehyung e yoongi chegaram, as mãos firmes deles te usando para se esfregar, o beliscão que yoongi deu em seu mamilo esquerdo enquanto sua mão estava dentro da calça de taehyung te fez gritar de dor numa mistura com o prazer, você gostou pra caralho daquele jeito agressivo.

"vai me chamar de papai de novo hoje, hm?" namjoon perguntou enquanto se aproximava de você com hoseok, enfiando dois dedos em sua buceta sem qualquer aviso quando hoseok estava beijando você "senti falta desse buraquinho." namjoon foi mais rápido e você geme alto não só pela sensação dos dedos grossos, mas porque percebe todos os outros caras olhando para você.

"acho que eles vão gostar de ver isso” hoseok saiu da sua frente, expondo a todos a imagem de você gemendo nos dedos de namjoon.

“tão linda nossa vadia burra!” jimin disse, observando a cena.

seu namorado queria dizer a namjoon para parar com isso, ele queria levar você para o quarto e te foder até o corpo dele desligar, mas só por ver o quanto você estava se divertindo com tudo isso valia esperar.

namjoon adicionou um terceiro dedo sem avisar e você se sente tão humilhado, vazando pelas mãos dele quando ele enfia e tira os dedos da sua boceta em um ritmo insano, seu corpo tremendo enquanto baba escorre da sua boca.

“diz pro seu namorado o quanto você sente falta do meu pau abrindo todo seu buraco, o quanto você sente falta de escorrer pelo meu pau. como você ama olhar meu pau enfiado na sua bucetinha apertada” e então ele tirou os dedos de você, esfregando-os em seus lábios e forçando você a se ajoelhar no chão. “você não vai gozar, não comigo, putinha, você vai enfiar todos esses paus na garganta e deixar a gente gozar no seu corpo todo, ser nosso depósito de porra, hm? depois seu namorado vê o que ele faz com você, cheia de porra de outros homens” ele ri.

e então você notou os outros seis homens se aproximando de você com o pau nas mãos, taehyung foi o primeiro a puxar seu cabelo, e você foi ágil com sua língua quente traçando o pau dele para cima e para baixo.

enquanto sua língua ainda estava em taehyung, hoseok esfregou as bolas dele na sua cara, e você tentou agarrá-las com a língua também, mas foi em vão.

“jungkook, sua namoradinha é uma prostituta!” seokjin disse quando você agarrou o pau dele, iniciando uma masturbação.

“tenho certeza que ela aguenta dois” jimin disse, empurrando seu pau junto com o de taehyung em sua garganta.

e você chupou, nem você sabe como, mas chupou como se fosse o pirulito mais delicioso do mundo enquanto os dois enfiavam com força na sua garganta. foda-se a dor, foda-se o incômodo, era tudo tão gostoso que você apenas continuava chupando com necessidade.

minutos depois você tinha o pau de jimin e taehyung na boca e seokjin e hoseok um em cada mão. namjoon, jungkook e yoongi se revezaram esfregando seus paus em seu corpo e dando tapas em seu peito e rosto.

jimin tirou o caralho duro da sua boca, e você encaixou no pau de seokjin, observando de lado enquanto jimin começava a se masturbar.

yoongi estava em sua mão direita, você acariciando as bolas dele.

era um pouco demais, a violência com qual entravam na sua garganta fazendo lágrimas sairem dos seus olhos, ás vezes você batia na coxa dos seus amigos para fazê-los pararem um pouco para você respirar, e bastava você puxar o ar uma vez que eles se enfiavam ali de novo no mesmo ritmo agressivo.

a sensação era muito mais agradável pelo ambiente do que pelo ato sexual em si, já que você mal conseguia chupar os paus, toda vez que alguém entrava e saía da sua boca.

“acho que essa vadia estúpida é muito gananciosa,até agora não engasgou com meu pau” namjoon reclamou, fazendo você soltar o pau de seokjin e hoseok que estavam em sua boca, quando os dois saíram, uma quantidade absurda de saliva escorreu você, vazando pelo seu corpo e até mesmo pelo chão da sala, foi humilhante, mas você não teve muito tempo para pensar assim que namjoon agarrou seu cabelo e fez seu nariz tocar a pélvis dele.

e então yoongi e jungkook se juntaram a ele, esfregando as bolas em seu rosto enquanto você abria a boca e aceitava de bom grado tudo o que eles lhe deram.

"você parece uma vadia no cio, tentando chupar todos esses paus quando claramente não consegue!" yoongi reclamou.

e isso desencadeou uma série de humilhações.

“boca inutíl, não serve nem chupar pau direito!” jimin disse.

“tenho vergonha de dizer que essa boca tocou meu pau.” seokjin disse enquanto enterrava a garganta em seu pau, fazendo você tossir e chorar.

"o único buraco bom em você é sua boceta." namjoon disse logo após cuspir em você, encorajando os outros seis a fazerem o mesmo.

você apenas sentia eles cuspirem em você, as vezes ao mesmo tempo, as vezes esperando, foram segundos que pareceram eternidades de cuspes e mais cuspes desferidos em todo seu corpo.

por mais que te xingassem e humilhassem, você nunca se sentiu tão bem, a sensação de ter sete homens em círculo ao seu redor era inexplicável.

e quando hoseok saiu da boca só para gozar, você se sentiu ainda melhor.

o esperma dele caindo pelo seu rosto e seios, misturando-se com o de jimin e taehyung que vieram logo depois, seu corpo ainda mais pegajoso.

“nossa putinha, tão nojenta, putinha de uso livre, obrigado, Jungkook” taehyung brincou, agarrando seu cabelo.

você voltou com o pau do namjoon na boca, engasgando e tossindo várias vezes enquanto ele fodia sua boca com uma força ainda maior do que costumava fazer em seus outros buracos.

“namorar o jungkook te deixou burra, caralho? essa boca inutil não faz nada certo!” namjoon gritou, puxando o pau para fora de sua garganta apenas para cuspir um fio grosso de saliva em sua boca e bater em seu rosto.

sua cara cheia de esperma de outros caras gozando enquanto você ainda chupava o namjoon foi o que fez seu namorado gozar na sua cara, deixando o pau grande do namjoon um pouco sujo de esperma também.

“seja útil pelo menos um pouco e me faça gozar nessa garganta” yoongi ordenou.

você colocou o pau de yoongi de volta em sua boca, chupando o dele e o de namjoon enquanto eles te fodiam, e você viu estrelas quando juntos eles encheram sua garganta, tão cheia a ponto de vazar de sua boca mesmo que você tentasse engolir.

você goza, sem nenhum estímulo além da humilhação e dos jatos de porra no seu corpo.

você estava uma bagunça, todo o seu corpo e o chão da sala são uma mistura de lágrimas, esperma e saliva. e você ainda estava molhado pra caralho.

"você quer ajuda com ela?" seus amigos ofereceram, depois de vestir suas roupas e ver que você estava completamente destruído.

“relaxem,” jungkook agradeceu. “eu cuido da minha princesa.”

e então os outros seis caminharam até você, dando-lhe um beijo cuidadoso na boca antes de serem conduzidos até a porta.

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kaymagicshop7 · 9 months ago

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Masterlist~

Hi and welcome! You’ve reach Magic Shop masterlist, Stories with BTS from HYBRIDS, WEREWOLVES to MAFIA and much more!

So come on in, make yourself at home have a nosey and stay for a while, as the door won’t open again for little bit.

HYBRID🐯

Active- Slow Updates

WEREWOLVES/SHIFTERS AU🐺

Coming Soon

MAFIA☠️

Coming Soon

One shots🫰🏼

Coming Soon

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sleekervae · 7 months ago

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So Good [0.7]

Masterlist

pairing: KNJ x rockstar!oc

summary: Kimberly calls Namjoon after her breakup

word count: 4,213

Purple text is Korean

Kimberly woke from an unexpected nap to find the light outside her apartment had faded into a deep indigo, the Los Angeles sky nearly starless. The bedside lamp still glowed faintly, its yellow light now too bright for her eyes. Her arm tingled, having fallen asleep beneath her, and strands of hair tangled in her lashes. She didn’t have the energy to move, so she stayed curled on her side, staring at the opposite wall through the curtain of her hair, her expression blank and a bitter taste lingering in her mouth. She hadn’t bothered to make her bed earlier, so her bare feet felt cold against the sheets, and she tucked them under the rumpled covers.

She couldn't remember when she'd fallen asleep, all she knew was the girls had come over with a bottle of wine to keep her company earlier that evening and that they'd dreamed it whilst old Billy Holiday records played, changed the sheets and threw out the things he'd left behind and didn't want. The girls offered to stay with Kimberly, and despite her insistence that she was fine, they made out a little sleeping area in her living room and curled up together, Chloe and Charlotte on the air mattress and Maria shared the bed with Kimberly.

Kimberly inhaled shakily, turning and see Maria still fast sleep behind her. She was sleeping in his spot, probably unaware of the hint of cologne that she didn't think would realistically wash out for a few months. Her head pounded in the conventional way that followed crying, though it could've been the alcohol too and she reached for the glass of water she'd placed on her bedside table, only dismayed to find she'd already drained it.

The clock beside her bed read a little past 2 a.m. Everything was quiet—too quiet. It felt like the entire city was holding its breath for her. Kimberly hated the silence, didn’t know what to do with it. For the first time, she realized there were no new thoughts left to think, and she felt a strange peace sitting on the edge of her bed, more accustomed to the emptiness than she could comprehend.

But despite the void, one thought kept circling back to her, probing at her mind over the past week. It always jolted her awake. She sighed and stood from the bed, careful not to wake Maria.

She had put it off for over a week, thinking it was the sensible thing to do, but now Kimberly couldn’t come up with a single excuse to delay it any longer. She knew she’d feel more at peace once it was over, so she picked up her phone and holed up in her bathroom. The brightness of the lights made her squint as she latched the door behind her, opened her contacts, and dialed the number. The phone’s shrill ringing made her anxious about waking the girls, her hands trembling, but Namjoon picked up after only two rings. She waited a second, hearing muffled conversation and the clearing of a throat she wasn’t sure was his at first.

“Namjoon?” she whispered, her voice scratchier and quieter than she’d realized. “Are you there?”

As soon as he heard her, Namjoon stood from the sofa he was slouched against in the shared living room. There was a hint of discomfort in her tone, and he felt the tension immediately in his shoulders, his jaw tightening. He and the guys were in between bouts of filming for another Run BTS segment, and nobody would mind if he stepped out for a few minutes to make sure everything was okay.

"You alright, Kim?" he mumbled, "One sec,"

He pushed through the film crew, motioning that he'd be right back, and migrated to the large backyard. The clouds were thick under the skies and the crisp air nipped at his nose. He hadn't been expecting her call, didn't have long until he'd have to come back for filming again but at her next words and the slight crack in her voice, he couldn't deny her, couldn't leave her.

"I'm alone now..." he mumbled.

“I, erm… I need to talk to you…” she murmured, raking her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself as she settled on the floor beside her shower. The deep tone of his voice was comforting, and it hit her just how much she needed him right now. She craved his presence, the sheer brilliance of his mind, the calm he always instilled in her. She had put off calling him because she didn’t think she could explain and didn’t want him to worry.

"I'm here," Namjoon assured her, "I'm here, but I don't got a lot of time, I'm afraid. We're doing some filming..." he lifted the phone down to check the time before holding it to his ear again, "What time is it over there?"

Kimberly pushed her lips together to stop herself from crying. Hearing him speak was overwhelming, it felt like a tight hug around the waist which squeezed too hard and winded her, filled her with rippling nostalgia, "It's just after 2am," she told him, "I'm in my bathroom,"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. The girls are asleep in the next room, I didn't want to wake them,"

Namjoon leant back against the wall, staring up at the greying sky over his head. He wondered if she was drunk, if she'd called him to tell something or just fancied a chat and he expected her to speak in the silence as she usually did, fill the gaps with a story or tell him something which would make him laugh but the other end of the line remained relatively quiet despite some shuffling. The silence knotted in his stomach, filled him with unease. With a shaky inhale, he couldn't wait any longer and he knew he didn't have much time to waste, "Kimberly, what's wrong?" he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck, "Talk to me,"

There was a beat, a pause in which she closed her eyes tightly and swallowed the lump I her throat over and over, but it wouldn't disappear no matter how hard she tried.

"I broke up with Darius..."

The faint whimpered and sniffled cut through the quiet and shattered Namjoon's heart into tiny pieces, rendering him speechless, the vulnerability and shake in her voice knocking the air from his lungs. Namjoon rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand in distress before he could find some words to offer as a response, "Oh. Oh fuck, I'm so sorry, Kimberly..." he swallowed, then he lowered his voice slightly, "Did he... what happened?"

She exhaled shakily, swallowing back her cries, He found someone else,"

Namjoon froze, though she couldn’t see his deepening scowl, the way his nose wrinkled in disdain. Anger surged through him. He had heard her cry once before, on a particularly hard day when she had planned to call him but forgot, worn out from the roughness of tour life. He had soothed her then, assuring her everything was alright, understanding firsthand how strenuous touring could be on someone’s psyche. Now, knowing she was sitting alone in her suffering, with no power to ease her pain, clouded his mind with immediate panic. He couldn’t shut out the mental image of tears rolling down her flushed cheeks, soaking into her pajamas, her delicate features scrunched in distress. The thought made him squirm. Taking a deep breath, he licked his lips, knowing he had to guide her through the conversation. He couldn’t sit back and listen to her muffled whimpers any longer.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Just breathe. When did this happen?" he asked.

Kimberly took a deep breath, though another sobbing gasp fell from her lips. The sound made Namjoon's jaw clench and his free hand formed into a first. He opened his mouth to comfort her though somehow she found it within herself to speak again.

"I... I needed food for my fridge. So did Maria so we agreed to go shopping together..."

... Spring in Los Angeles always brought great promise, a hope for more prosperity, success, happiness and beauty that coexisted with the continual bustling of city life. Catch the Caper were back in the US just for a couple weeks before they'd take off for Asia, they were grateful for the bit of time they got to spend with their friends and family.

One downside Kimberly faced was her fridge being empty -- almost constantly. She usually cleared it out before leaving, God forbidding she came home to something that went bad and she certainly wouldn't be in the mood to clean that up. So she called up Maria and they decided to hit the supermarket.

Kimberly's fridge had a perpetual emptiness that mirrored her hectic lifestyle. She always cleared it out before leaving, fearing the inevitable stench of spoiled food upon her return—a mess she had no patience for. So, she called Maria, and they decided to venture to the supermarket together.

As they wandered through the brightly lit aisles, Kimberly's eyes widened at the inflated prices. The once affordable treats of her teenage years now felt like exclusive luxuries.

Maria sighed dramatically, holding up a small container of strawberries. "These better serenade me for what they cost now," she muttered, shaking her head.

Kimberly laughed at her friend’s theatrics, "Maybe we should start a garden and grow our own. We could sell the extras and make a fortune," she joked.

Maria rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, that'll be our next mercy launch. Catch The Caper Jarred Capers! Or... something. There's a better pun in there somewhere,"

They continued down the aisle, filling their cart with essentials and a few indulgences. Reaching for a box of her favorite cereal on the top shelf, Kimberly froze. At the end of the aisle stood Darius, his back turned, but she recognized the jacket she had gifted him. Her heart plummeted, a stone sinking in a sea of emotion.

“What’s up, Kimmy?” Maria’s voice broke through her thoughts. She followed Kimberly's gaze and saw him. Anger flashed across Maria's face as she clenched her fists, ready to march over. "Oh no. Absolutely not!” But Kimberly’s hand shot out, gripping Maria’s arm.

Kimberly couldn’t move. She was rooted to the spot, eyes locked on Darius, who was laughing at something the woman beside him said. His eyes crinkled at the corners—an expression that used to make Kimberly melt. Now, it filled her with a bitter mix of betrayal and heartache. A lump formed in her throat, threatening to choke her as they walked closer, oblivious to her presence.

Maria’s anger softened into empathy as she saw the devastation in Kimberly’s eyes. She wrapped an arm around Kimberly's shoulders, offering silent support as they stood there, watching the man who had once held Kimberly's heart so tenderly.

As Darius and the woman passed by, he looked up and locked eyes with Kimberly. For a moment, time stood still. They stared at each other, a silent conversation in that fleeting instant.

Then, without a word, Darius tore his gaze away, continuing to walk. The woman beside him glanced curiously back at Kimberly and Maria. Kimberly felt a rush of conflicting emotions—hurt, anger, sadness—swirling inside her like a storm. But amidst the chaos, a spark of determination flickered to life.

As Darius and the woman disappeared around the corner, Kimberly found her voice, though it was hoarse and shaky. "Let's go," she whispered, her tone final and resolute.

Maria nodded, understanding the silent command. She gently yet firmly took Kimberly's hand, guiding her away from the aisle where past and present had collided.

Outside, under the fluorescent lights, Kimberly stopped. She turned to Maria, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears but also with newfound strength. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice steadier now.

Maria enveloped her in a tight hug, offering unwavering support without needing to say a word...

"... I put all his stuff into boxes and I told him to come and get it, and that I never wanted to see him again," she chuckled pitifully, "I don't know how I could've been so stupid. He wasn't calling me as often, he was so distant, the signs were right in front of me..."

"You're not stupid," Namjoon assured, "You have every right to be upset, he broke your trust,"

Namjoon remembered calling her the day before the break up, he couldn't remember what they were chatting about but he could still hear the sound of her delightful laugh in his ears. The contrast now, the absolute devastation in her voice was such a heartbreaking realization. How long had she noticed Darius' distance, how long was she keeping it bottled to herself? And why was it so unfair that they were on opposite sides of the world, so far he couldn't hold her and assure her that she was going to be alright.

"And then you know... while I was packing his stuff up I started thinking about my future. And it hit me that I never could picture our life together -- ever. Marriage, owning a house, doing chores together and raising kids. That never crossed my mind with him. I don't know if it makes sense, but I think I knew deep down that he wasn't the once,"

"Oh, Kim... don't worry, I understand what you mean," Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm just so sorry. I had no idea any of this was happening,"

"How could you?" she croaked back.

Three more weeks, Namjoon had three more weeks before he could see her in person, hold her properly. He knew she was even more excited than he was, just as enthused from the demos he'd played for her, had already hinted at his favorite songs he'd hear at her band's show. They talked practically every day together, via voice or just by text, and yet Namjoon realized he still didn't know everything about her, didn't have access to her the way her friends did. He never could've know how she was suffering.

"It's all gonna' work out. You're gonna be just fine," he drawled, conscious of how much of a cliché he sounded like, "I know it's not easy right now, Kim, and you're going through fucking hell but I know how tough you are. You're gonna be alright,"

"It's just..." Kimberly sniffled, pushing her hair out from her eyes again, her fingers tangled in the tight curls. Her mind was working in overdrive now that she was someone new to unload it onto, suddenly every repressed thought and question resurfaced, bubbling from her lips like mad, "I can't even believe how a person can be so callous, how you can spend a year with someone and suddenly look right through them. Like they don't even know you. I don't know how anybody could do that,"

"No sane, rational, normal human being would," he told her, "You deserve so much better,"

"I know I've made the right decision," she said, pulling her knees to her chest, "I just feel so lost, Joon,"

"Kimberly, please believe me, you have every fucking right to feel like shit. You have every right to let grief do its thing. But you can't let it consume you," he said, "And you might feel this way for a while, but I'm telling you one day soon it's all gonna' be bright again. You're going to go back to being your incredible self, and you'll be a little wiser, a little more gracious for yourself,"

Kimberly tittered, cradling her phone to her ear with a little laugh while made Namjoon's heart momentarily stop, "Joon --"

"You trust me, don't you?" he asked, hoping she didn't mind his interruption.

"More than anything," she whispered back, listening to the rhythm of his heavy breathing to ease hers. She pictured his face, that sweet, uncontrollable smirk that pulled into his lips, the twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"Then trust me now," he drawled into the phone, his voice confident, "Sometimes your life has to fall apart so you can move forward --"

Before he could finish, Namjoon was cut off by a producer banging on the window behind him, waving at him to come back inside. Namjoon gave him a thumbs up back, sighing in exasperation as he brought his lips close to the phone speaker again.

"Kimberly... I've got to go... I'm sorry," he sighed, raking a hand through his preened hair, "I wish I didn't have to, I'd love to stay with you and talk more --"

"It's okay, Namjoon," she assured him, "I don't want you to be in trouble because of me,"

"Even if you could get me in trouble, it would all be worth it," he assured her, sauntering back towards the door.

Her breathing was more even now and she was no longer crying so he figured he'd achieved something at least. He hadn't made it worse, but it didn't make leaving her any easier, didn't make the thought of her sitting alone seem less detrimental. He knew for a fact he would struggle to focus on the shoot, would worry about her, overthinking the situation beyond any logic.

"Thank you for talking to me," she whispered, her chest warming as he spoke back to her. She shuffled to stand up, taking a glance at herself in the mirror quickly. Her eyes were still so puffy from crying, her skin felt so dry from lack of care.

"Despite the circumstance... it's always a pleasure talking to you," he mumbled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He swallowed hard then lowered his voice, speaking softly, "You know I care about you, Kimberly..."

"I do,"

“I’ll see you in three weeks, and I’ll show you the best time,” he promised. “We’re going to go to all the best spots in Seoul.” He heard Kimberly hum appreciatively, wondering if she was tired now, if he’d settled her enough that she’d crawl under the covers and fall asleep. He thought it best not to ask, knowing it would stay with him if he knew she was still awake and distressed. “Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? Just give me a call and I’ll pick up, no matter what time it is.”

"I'm looking forward to it already," she smiled. Her eyes felt heavy, aware that once the tone of the call ended she'd fall fast asleep.

She'd known the moment after she kicked Darius out, Namjoon had been the first person she wanted to speak to. Before her friends, before her mom, Namjoon had been her first thought to gather some rationality and now with the wave of drowsiness that hit her, she knew why. He calmed her down so well, she was shocked considering how she was crying only moments ago. It had taken only his voice, the endearing nature of his loyalty to her to relax her enough.

"Get some rest, please," he told her.

"I will. Have a good shoot, Joon..."

"Take care of yourself, Kim. Goodnight,"

"Goodnight," he waited for her to hang up the call before pocketing his phone, couldn't bring himself to leave first and the nose made him jump despite her wishing him well.

Namjoon could see in his own reflection that he felt crushed, sucked in his cheekbones and ran his hand over his face to snap him out of the daze. Hearing and knowing Kimberly was so hurt pained him, had made his entire body rigid with tension and he rolled his shoulders back to ease the build up, consciously tried to unlock his jaw but he was still on edge. He was painfully aware that he wagons the opposite side of the world and that he had so many commitments to meet, but more than anything he wanted to be there for her. She was a priority to him whether she liked it or not.

Stepping back into the house, his next revelation dawned on him. He hadn't thought about it when she was with Darius, would have never admitted it to anyone who asked him, let alone himself, but he now realized that he'd always been subconsciously waiting for her on some level. Now, he couldn't swallow back that pinch of excitement and hope, felt selfish for it but couldn't ignore that despite the fact he was miles away from her, there was a crack of possibility in what was once an overwhelmingly impenetrable wall, one he didn't know that he'd been waiting for appear.

Now, if only he could get past his management...

The boys were cloistered in the living room still, talking amongst themselves while waiting for the film crew to get set up again. Namjoon couldn't even think twice, he approached Jin from behind and tugged on his sleeve.

"I need to talk to you," he drawled quickly.

Jin glanced him, figuring he was joking at first as he looked around the room, "We're gonna' film again, can it wait?"

"No," he pulled on his shoulder this time, "C'mere,"

Despite his reservations and the time constraints they were under, Jin got up and followed Namjoon out to the next room. The other boys watched curiously, but Namjoon waved them off with a reassuring smile. Jin hesitated at the threshold, the air inside heavy with a sense of foreboding. As he stepped into the room, his curiosity grew as Namjoon immediately slammed and locked the door behind them.

"What's the matter with you?" Jin asked, "Who were you on the phone with?"

"Kimberly," Namjoon replied simply.

Jin rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Oh, this ought to be good,"

"Kimberly and Darius broke up," Namjoon snapped, worried Jin wasn't taking him seriously, "They're done,"

Jin raised his eyebrows, "Wow. What happened? Is she okay?"

Namjoon began to pace up and down the room, "She's devastated, he's been cheating on her while she was away. Fucking prick..."

Jin cleared his throat, his own inhibitions and worries settling in for his friend, "And... how do you feel?"

"Why does that even matter?" Namjoon huffed.

"Because you dragged me into the office out of the blue and you're pacing like a mad man," Jin pointed out, "Would you calm down, please?"

"Well... I feel terrible for her!" he replied, turning on his heel and pacing to the opposite end of the room, "What kind of selfish bastard... and it's Kimberly! She's the kindest person in the world! Even if I wanted to swoop in and help her, even on the level of friendship, I'm a million fucking miles away --"

"Hey! You could write a great song about that..." Jin smirked.

"I'm being serious, Jin," Namjoon took a deep breath, "I just... I need some advice right now..."

"The way I see it..." Jin began, "You've got a shot. That is until you're able to wait until 2023," he pointed out.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, "Oh, fuck,"

"You know the rules!" Jin pointed out.

"Of course I know the rules!" Namjoon replied.

"Then you shouldn't even be bothered about this!" Jin sat down in the rolly chair, swinging his legs back and forth to drawl over the floor, "That being said -- you've got three weeks until the girls come. You could shoot your shot, but again three weeks isn't a long time. You don't want to come on too strong, it's disrespectful. And unless you're fucking magical and somehow can convince our bosses to let us date within that time span, then you're only going to hurt her more. Do you want to do that to her?"

Namjoon understood where Jin was coming from; he had told himself the same thing countless times, playing out scenarios in his head. The extent to which he had overthought the news was almost embarrassing, but Kimberly’s happiness was what mattered most. If a year from now she was still single and didn’t want him, he’d have to force himself to accept it.

But there was an undeniable elation bubbling inside him, a frenzy of flash-forwards of what could be if the chance ever came about. If his management became just a little more lenient. He hadn’t anticipated the opportunity that now presented itself, but he couldn’t help the optimism that filled him.

"Jin," Namjoon mumbled, rubbing his temple, "I still feel something for her... I don't think it's going to go away,"

There was suddenly a pounding on the door behind him, "Guys!" Taehyung called, "Production manager's threatening to bust down the door unless you guys come out!"

"We're coming! We're coming!" Namjoon called back, then he turned back to Jin, "We can keep this between us for now, right?"

"Do I even have a choice?" Jin scoffed back, "You're clearly besotted with her, you have been since you found out she had your flower tattooed on her," he continued, "But I'm warning you -- if you want to protect yourself and her, you gotta' be smart about how you go about this. And you gotta' ask yourself if Kimberly is worth your career..."

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headlinxr · 15 days ago

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𝐡𝐢𝐦 ─── 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤

SYNOPSIS ! Jeon Jung-kook is your new literature teacher. As the class's top student in that subject, you have to make a good impression on him. But you do more than that.

GENRE. teacher x student, teacher's pet, forbidden relationship, non idol!, au, f!reader

WARNINGS. reader is younger than Jung-kook, slight smut.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The classroom door opened with a creak that shattered the stillness, and a murmur slithered among the students like the prelude to something unexpected. A young man crossed the threshold with a posture that radiated confidence, accompanied by dark eyes that seemed to guard ancient secrets, as if he could decipher the most intricate enigmas with just a glance. He was Professor Jeon Jung-kook, the new literature teacher, and his arrival transformed the air in the room into something almost palpable, thick with expectation.

From the moment he placed his briefcase on the desk, his presence filled the space with a unique magnetism: A harmonious blend of authority and closeness that only the most charismatic spirits possess.

—Good morning, class— he greeted with a deep voice, with a musicality that evoked the rhythm of a well-composed sonnet. —My name is Jeon Jung-kook, and together we will explore what literature has to teach Not just as an academic discipline, but as a mirror to understand ourselves—

His words were not mere formalities; each syllable seemed chiseled with intention, like a chisel sculpting the marble of a statue. For you, that initial greeting resonated like a tacit promise: Those classes would not be a monotonous repetition of theories and grammatical structures. They would be intrepid journeys into the depths of the human condition, expeditions to the far reaches of emotions and reason.

As the weeks went by, Jung-kook confirmed that he was much more than a conventional teacher. His lessons metamorphosed into existential dialogues, into debates laden with meaning that dissected the nature of being, the inexorability of decisions, and the eternal struggle between light and shadow that resides within each individual.

—A hero is not the one who defeats the dragon— he stated one day, as his gaze swept over the students —but the one who confronts their own darkness, the one that lies in the deepest recesses of their soul—

Those words were not mere reflections; they were arrows precisely aimed at the heart of each student. For some, they provoked admiration; for others, discomfort. For you, they were a revelation.

You had always been the outstanding student, the one who offered impeccable answers and outstanding projects. But your academic success was a fortress built to isolate you, a refuge where your most intimate thoughts remained inaccessible. Jung-kook, however, seemed to have an unsettling ability to read between the lines, not only in the texts they analyzed but also in the pauses and hesitations of your responses.

One rainy afternoon, while discussing "Nausea" by Sartre, his words emerged as a gentle yet unavoidable challenge:

—And you, (Y/N), do you think the choices we make define us or, rather, strip us bare before the truth of who we are?—

The classroom fell into an expectant silence. The question was not just philosophical; it was personal, as if he had glimpsed something beyond the facade she displayed. You felt that Jung-kook's gaze pierced through you, not with judgment, but with a sincere invitation to be authentic.

You hesitated, carefully choosing each word, not because you didn't know how to respond, but because you understood that honesty requires courage.

—I think... I think our choices are like mirrors— you murmured finally, with a trembling but firm voice. —They don't transform us, but they reflect what we have been all along, even the parts we refuse to look at—

Jung-kook smiled faintly, a barely perceptible curve on his lips that seemed to contain the approval and respect that your words had inspired in him.

From that day on, something in you changed. The walls that had protected you for years began to crumble, revealing a torrent of thoughts and emotions you had never shared before. Jung-kook's classes became a kind of sanctuary, a space where I could speak without fear, where my ideas were listened to with the same attention one gives to studying a complex poem.

For his part, Jung-kook also revealed glimpses of his own vulnerability in his teachings. His literary interpretations were laden with personal nuances, as if the demons tormenting Dostoevsky's or Kafka's characters were reflections of his own internal struggle.

—The great authors— he said one day, while holding a worn copy of "The Brothers Karamazov," do not write to give us answers, but to show us that our questions are universal. The demons in their pages are ours, and confronting them is the price of our freedom—

For you, those words were a revelation. Jung-kook was not just a teacher; he was a beacon in the fog, a guide to unexplored territories of your mind and spirit. Between literary quotes and metaphors laden with meaning, the connection between them deepened, not as a romantic bond, but as an intellectual and emotional dance where both learned and transformed.

So , the classroom ceased to be just a physical space and became a theater of ideas, a place where literature was not only studied but lived, felt, and confronted as the mirror that reflects who we are and who we could become.

Time, in Jung-kook's classes, did not follow a straight line, nor did it adhere to the conventions of the clock. Its passage was a dance of smooth glides, like a current that bifurcates and loses itself among the shadows. What began as an orderly analysis of literature soon dissolved into abstractions that seemed to transcend the boundaries of the classroom. Between the words of a Rilke poem or the contradictions of a Camus essay, a microcosm was woven where language was no longer just heard, but felt on the skin, like a vibration that coursed through every corner of his being. Jung-kook spoke with the certainty of someone who knows that literature is not a dead art, but an immense and pulsating river that flows between bodies and minds, pushing towards deeper waters, towards what lies hidden beneath the surface. And you swam in those waters with a skill you seemed unaware of, diving deeper than anyone into the depths of that ocean of words.

Over time, Jung-kook's praises became sharper, more specific, as if each word that left his lips were a flash of light revealing what only he could see.

—You have a unique sensitivity to grasp what others leave in the shadows of a text— he told you one afternoon, after an analysis of "The Stranger” —It's as if you could hear what remains in the silence between the words—

His words fell upon you like petals swirling in the air before gently settling on your soul, each one released with a precision that was not casual. There was something in his tone that suggested a deep truth, a sincerity that surpassed the empty and fleeting compliments he threw at the rest of the class. You began to feel that you sought his attention more and more frequently, like a gravitational force that irresistibly attracted you, his eyes taking an extra moment to focus on you, as if everything in the classroom fell silent to allow time to stop in that brief but immense exchange of glances.

At first, you interpreted those moments as mere recognition of your academic potential. Jung-kook was an exceptional mentor, the kind of person who saw what others couldn't or dared not perceive. You felt honored, even grateful, for that selective attention, as if you were being admitted to a world reserved only for those who managed to cross the threshold of deep understanding. However, soon, cracks began to appear, fine, barely perceptible, but enough to suggest that something else was brewing in the air.

His comments, always masked under the guise of academic interest, began to take on a different weight, as if a whisper laden with hidden intentions slipped between the words.

—The way you write... There's something in it that touches on the intimate, the visceral— he told you one day, handing you an essay he had graded. Jung-kook's fingers brushed briefly against yours as he handed your the paper, a contact as fleeting as lightning, but it left a palpable warmth in the air, a spark you didn't know how to extinguish.

Then came the messages, those that slipped in during the late hours of the night, when everyone was immersed in the silence of darkness. At first, they seemed innocent, simple reminders about readings or literary reflections that extended the boundaries of the class beyond the classroom. But over time, the tone began to change, each word seemed to acquire a weight that transcended the academic.

—I read your analysis on Baudelaire again tonight. The way you captured the melancholy in his work... It's as if you could feel the pain of their soul. I am impressed by the way your soul understands suffering in a unique way—

They were words that came when the world seemed to be asleep, imbued with a closeness, a subtle but undeniable touch, that had nothing to do with a teacher and his student. You tried to convince yourself that his thoughts were just misinterpretations, but Jung-kook's words slipped between the lines, like an unspoken poem, inviting you to read beyond the obvious.

And then there was his presence. There was something about Jung-kook that transcended the physical, as if his body were imbued with an energy that surrounded you, that attracted you. His gestures, that subtle inclination when he listened, his hands drawing circles in the air with invisible ideas, his voice, capable of sliding from the firmness of a paternal advice to the silky whisper of a secret shared in the shadows. You began to notice details that had previously been indifferent to you: The curve of his jaw when he turned his head, the glint in his eyes when he spoke passionately about some author, the way his smile, though rare, seemed to contain entire, infinite universes, waiting to be deciphered.

One day, while the rain softly tapped on the windows of the empty classroom, Jung-kook approached you after class, his presence enveloping the air around him.

—Have you noticed that the most talented people are often the loneliest?— he said, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to pierce through you, as if he could see something inside you that you yourself did not yet understand.

You felt your heart beating harder, a rhythmic thump vibrating in your chest, as if that phrase touched a hidden fiber of your being.

—Maybe— you replied, trying to stay calm, although your voice betrayed a slight tremor. —But solitude, sometimes, is as much a refuge as it is a curse, isn't it?—

Jung-kook smiled, and that smile slowly stretched, like a curve containing thousands of unspoken meanings.

—It is a truth that few come to understand— he said, and his hand lightly rested on the back of the chair next to yours, coming close enough for the scent of his cologne, subtle yet penetrating, to reach your senses.

It was at that moment when you realized something you had tried to deny, something that had always been there, beneath the surface: How attractive Jung-kook was. Not just for his appearance, which was undeniable, but for the way each of his gestures, every word, every glance, seemed calculated to get you tangled up, to draw you into an abyss from which you didn't know whether you wanted to escape or plunge even deeper.

Your attraction began as a whisper, an ephemeral thought that could have easily dissolved. But over time, that whisper transformed into a persistent echo, resonating every time he entered the room. In your dreams, his face blended with verses you had never read, and his voice became a hypnotic, almost dreamlike song that called to you from the depths of his being.

However, alongside that growing fascination, a question arose that she couldn't shake: How sincere was his interest? Were you really special to him, or just another piece in a game that Jung-kook mastered with the skill of a violinist playing the strings of your emotions?

The classes continued, but now everything had a different hue, a latent tension that permeated every word, every gesture. Jung-kook's teachings were no longer simple lessons, but enigmas you felt compelled to solve, metaphors of a game from which you didn't know whether to escape or let yourself be caught.

As your confidence grew, a subtle shadow was woven into your soul, but increasingly heavier. At first, it was just a delicate feeling, like the breeze that brushes the skin on a summer afternoon, a whisper telling you that there was something unique in your relationship with Jung-kook. He, with his impeccable presence and calculated words, convinced you that there was something special between you, something that went beyond the relationship between a teacher and his student. He spoke to you as if you were the only one capable of understanding his thoughts, as if you were the only one who understood his visions of life and literature. Every word Jung-kook said seemed to open new doors for you, revealing secrets you didn't know existed.Your mind, once curious but with clear boundaries, began to merge with the ideas he shared, as if each one were a point of light in a dark labyrinth to which only he had the key.

The way he looked at you, with that intensity that never faded, made you feel as if the rest of the world were irrelevant, as if its existence were reduced to those moments when he paid attention to you. Each compliment, each comment, seemed to reinforce that feeling: —You are different, (Y/N), you are special. No one else has this ability to see what you see, to feel what you feel. You are unique— He spoke with a softness that was almost dangerous, like the song of a serpent luring its prey before devouring it.

The feeling of being above everyone else intoxicated you. She was so used to hearing those words that they became ingrained in your mind, making you feel as if you were floating, disconnected from everything else. Your friends began to seem distant to you, their voices monotonous and boring compared to the passion with which Jung-kook spoke, the depth he offered you.

In fact, you started to isolate yourself without even realizing it. The messages that used to make You smile now seemed to be your only source of comfort. —Your analysis on Sartre was brilliant, (Y/N). I see something in you that I don't see in anyone else. That ability you have to get to the bottom of every thought, to unravel what hides in the darkness. You have a mind that few can follow— Each word, each praise was a dose that kept you bound, as if somehow you could no longer live without their approval, without that constant validation of their superiority.

The voices of your friends, those that had once made you laugh, began to lose relevance. Their laughter, their trivial conversations, no longer seemed capable of filling the void that Jung-kook had left inside you. His messages, the long talks after class, became the only truth that inhabited your mind. Even your family, which had once been your refuge, became a distant echo. Family dinners, outings with friends, faded away like scattered clouds. Jung-kook needed you for something greater, and that consumed you in a way you couldn't even understand. It was as if the very air you breathed depended on him.

Manipulation, always disguised as affection, admiration, genuine interest, was an invisible fabric that surrounded you more and more. He showed you the world as if it were a closed box, only showing you what he wanted you to see. Every time you perceived something that didn't add up, some gesture or word that made you doubt, Jung-kook made sure to silence that inner voice. —What you felt is not real. Why doubt me, when I only want the best for you?— His voice slid over your thoughts like a slow poison, dragging you into an uncertainty that prevented you from trusting your own instincts. Was it really your intuition guiding your emotions, or were they just fantasies fueled by the need to be seen and understood by him?

The power Jung-kook had over you did not lie solely in his knowledge or his position as a teacher, but in his ability to manipulate your reality. Like an artist sculpting a perfect marble statue, Jung-kook shaped your mind, molding it to depend on him, so you couldn't see beyond his influence. His physical contact, his words, his looks, everything had a purpose: To make you doubt, to make you want more, always more. When their fingers brushed against each other, when their gaze became more penetrating, you felt the space between you become unbreathable, a tension that made you fear and desire with equal intensity.

Sometimes, you find yourself looking for signs in every gesture of his. Was he really that worried about you, or was there something more behind those eyes that seemed to read your soul? The uncertainty grew within you, but there was always something in his voice, a tone of absolute certainty, that disarmed you. —You have to understand that the world doesn't always see what you see.You have to understand that the world doesn't always see what you see. But I see it. I see what is in you, what no one else can see. You are unique, (Y/N), and that attracts me— Each phrase, each compliment, seemed like a rope tied around your neck, and at the same time, a drug I couldn't stop consuming.

It was impossible to escape. The emotional dependence you felt towards him became increasingly urgent, like a fire you couldn't extinguish. The more you saw him, the more you needed him. The more you needed him, the more you desired him. And Jung-kook knew it. He played with you like a lover with his prey, sometimes gently, sometimes with a firmness that destabilized you, always returning to you like the wind returns to its predestined direction.

Every time he looked at you that way, as if he were stripping you of your layers, you felt the world fade away. The multitude of voices that used to surround you, the advice from your friends, the warnings from your family, faded away. Only he remained, the central figure that revolved around your existence, guiding you, manipulating you, shaping you in his image. And you, like a puppet that still doesn't know it's tied up, let yourself be carried away, without questioning, without thinking. Because deep down, there was a part of you that no longer wanted to escape. There was something unspeakable in that game. Something that attracted you like a magnet.

The class had come to an end, but the air was still charged with something that (Y/N) couldn't identify, something that floated in every corner of the classroom, as if Jung-kook's words had seeped into the walls. While the other students gathered their things and left in opposite directions, you remained there, as if suspended in a moment you didn't want to end, like a fallen leaf clinging to the tree before surrendering to the final fall.

Jung-kook, standing next to the desk, loomed as a dominant presence, almost a monolith of silence that expanded throughout the classroom. His eyes, dark and deep as unfathomable abysses, found you instantly, trapping you in his gaze with the force of an irrevocable destiny. No words were needed. With just a slight raising of an eyebrow, so subtle it seemed like an invisible caress, his gesture pierced your soul like a poisoned arrow, awakening something within you. A tiny, insidious fire ignited in his chest, a spark of hidden desire but as bright and overwhelming as the full moon illuminating the clear sky of an endless night.

—(Y/N), stay a moment after class…— he said, his voice low and soft, but with a gravitational weight that trapped you and made it impossible to ignore. The words floated in the air, dense as an invisible fog, laden with something that transcended the academic. In that instant, the world seemed to stop. The voices of the other students, the murmurs in the hallways, even the monotonous buzzing of the fluorescent lights, all vanished in an almost mystical sigh. The only sound that remained was the rapid beating of your heart, echoing in your ears with the force of an unspoken truth. Should this be a simple request for an academic topic? Maybe yes, but something in the cadence of his voice, in the way he wrapped you with each word, told you that there was much more behind that invitation, something that moved in the shadows, lurking and tempting.

A simple nod of his head was enough for you to agree, almost without thinking. you nodded, slowly and deliberately, and in that instant, a heavy silence settled over you, like a warm and dense blanket. You couldn't help it. The way his eyes looked at you, that unyielding intensity, attracted you with a force you couldn't rationalize, much less resist. Jung-kook was a magnetic man, not only for his physical presence but for the way he moved, for the cadence of his voice, so deep and fluid, like a river of words that swept you into its current, leaving you lost in the whirlwind of your desire. He was a soft poison, almost imperceptible, that slid through your veins, carrying you away without mercy.

As the other students dispersed, the classroom slowly emptied, leaving a tense calm in the air, like the stillness before a storm. The echo of footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving only the dense silence of his presence. Jung-kook didn't move, his eyes remained fixed on you, unyielding. You felt the space between you narrow, as if the classroom walls were slowly closing in, trapping you in the invisible web he had woven around himself. A shiver ran through you. You felt vulnerable, like a flower yet to bloom, waiting for the sun to give it permission to unfold its deepest splendor. The anxiety that used to keep you on edge melted into something new, something strange and tempting: An anticipation that coursed through your skin, from the tips of your fingers to the depths of your being.

The clock, cruel in its advance, marked the time with the precision of an executioner. When the door finally closed, the classroom was enveloped in an almost palpable stillness, the air charged with an electric tension that could be felt on the skin, as if each breath were a latent threat. Jung-kook took a step towards you, his movements measured and calculated with the precision of a hunter approaching his prey, but without haste. As if time were at his feet, and not the other way around.

—Does it bother you to stay a few more minutes?— I just want to talk about your latest essay—he said, and although his words were rational, his tone, soft and grave, carried a barely contained sensuality, like a taut string, about to snap

A sigh escaped your lips. You tried to smile, but you knew that expression couldn't hide what was overflowing in your chest. His closeness enveloped you like a thick fog, like a tide that swept you away without remedy. It wasn't just his body that occupied the space; it was something intangible, something that passed through his gestures, his fixed gaze, that confidence with which he moved. Each word he uttered was an invitation to the abyss, a whisper laden with unspoken promises. His gaze, deep and serene, never stopped searching for yours, trapping you in a game from which you neither could nor wanted to escape.

—Of course, professor— you murmured, your voice lower than usual, as if you didn't want your words to escape your mouth. They were more a sigh, an unquestioning acceptance, a permission given without reservation. Upon saying it, you felt a little more vulnerable, as if an invisible thread tied you to him, leaving you in the web of his own desire, a desire that now felt as clear as water, but that you still tried to suppress.

Jung-kook took another step, getting closer, so close that you could feel the heat of his body, so palpable that it almost hurt. A subtle scent of men's cologne, something more, something indefinable, filled your nose, enveloping your senses, making your breath heavier, more conscious. You could hear the beats of your own accelerated heart, as if you were on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into the vastness of the forbidden.

—The essay…— he said, now with an even deeper, denser voice, laden with an intention you couldn't ignore. It's... Excellent, (Y/N). But I know you have much more to offer. I see that spark in you. That... Depth. Not everyone has that— his voice slipped softly, like a warm river surrounding you, caressing your ear with the promise of something much greater, something you couldn't avoid, nor wanted to avoid.

His closeness became intoxicating, a constant pressure that made it hard to breathe easily. Each word he spoke, each movement, became a song, a melody that resonated in your chest. Each phrase from Jung-kook seemed like a promise, a promise of something beyond the classrooms, something that couldn't be named, but that touched You with a breathtaking certainty. Something forbidden.

—I think you are more perceptive than you realize, (Y/N). Not everyone can grasp what you understand... What you see in the texts, in the nuances that others overlook. Have you noticed that?— he asked, his tone seductive and soft, each word woven with the intention of disarming you, making you succumb to the trap he had set without your knowledge.

You wanted to respond, but your words got stuck in your throat, choked by the intensity of his presence. The sound of your ragged breathing joined theirs, marking the rhythm of something that seemed inevitable. The beats of his heart echoed like drums in your ears, and although your mind tried to rebel, your body desired it without remission. The distance between the two of you was becoming increasingly dangerous, every second more explosive.

Jung-kook leaned towards you, the air between them charged with a tension so palpable that it seemed any movement could shatter that delicate balance. His face was just a few centimeters from yours, and his warm breath caressed your skin, like a wordless promise.

—You have no idea how special you are, (Y/N)— he murmured, and that softness, that whisper, completely disarmed you, leaving you defenseless before him.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, as if the entire world were fading away around them. The classroom, the chairs, the desk, everything disappeared, and only he and you remained, trapped in an atmosphere laden with unspoken promises. The line between academic admiration and something much deeper blurred, as if everything in his being screamed that this was much more than a mere meeting of minds. It was a meeting of souls, and neither of them could leave there without something having been transformed forever.

You didn't know if your body had reacted first, if your thoughts had overflowed at his proximity, but what you did know was that you couldn't go back. You could no longer escape the gravity that kept you bound to him, that invisible force that drew you in mercilessly, without compassion, as if fate itself dictated that there was no turning back.

Without warning, as if time itself were swept away by a whirlwind of primal instincts, Jung-kook drew You towards him with an unstoppable force, a firmness that whispered both protection and possession. It was an electric contact, a palpable tension, like the crossing of two worlds destined to collide, a fusion of contained desires and a need so visceral that it overflowed the limits of reason. In that suspended moment, their bodies drew closer with frantic urgency, as if the entire universe had stopped, holding its breath before the magnitude of the moment. The air, thick and laden with expectations, became dense between them, like a forbidden perfume that intoxicates the senses.

Their lips, barely a whisper apart, met in a kiss so intense that it seemed to transcend the physical realm. It was an incendiary touch, an explosion of repressed passions, as if everything they had desired, everything they had feared and longed for, was unleashed in a single eruption. The kiss, voracious and unrestrained, swept away any trace of doubt, overflowing the boundaries of decency and sanity. A fierce kiss that spoke without words, that whispered on their skin what they hadn't even dared to think, a language as ancient as desire itself, resonating with the depth of a soul that had been waiting for the exact moment to surrender.

Each brush of their lips was an invitation, a challenge, and a promise. A forbidden dance woven in the shadows, where bodies moved in unison, shedding all restraint, advancing towards a union that could not be stopped. It was as if the air around them were on fire, each breathless gasp amplifying the electricity overflowing between their skins, a burning current that united them in a whirlwind of contradictory sensations: Pain and pleasure, need and surrender. The intensity of that kiss not only tore through the silence of the room but marked every corner of their existences, as if every second spent there was imbued with a desire so strong that it overflowed any notion of time or space.

His touch was a lightning bolt, a flash that illuminated the deepest part of you being, stripping reality of its shadow, igniting every forgotten corner of desire. And in that fervor, in that boundless surrender, everything else ceased to matter. The forbidden, the unthinkable, everything faded away, leaving only the fury of an uncontrollable desire that fed on their closeness, that grew with every spark that was born between them. A desire that knew no bounds, overflowing in an incessant torrent of pure need.

With a movement as smooth and deliberate as if every muscle in his being had been invaded by the certainty of his destiny, Jung-kook leaned in, like a painter approaching his blank canvas, aware that the moment of creation was about to culminate. His lips, burning and fascinating, began to explore the delicate and vulnerable curve of your neck, an uncharted territory that seemed to whisper forgotten secrets, echoes of promises woven in the air with the fragrance of a desire that was eternal, profound, like a truth that only the soul could comprehend. Each kiss he placed on your skin was a whisper of complicity, a pact sealed in a language that transcended words, an echo of passions dancing to the rhythm of an ethereal wind, like golden leaves swept away by the current of a perpetual autumn.

Your skin, as soft as velvet or the purest silk, became an intimate and secret stage, where light and shadow played an eternal dance. Each caress of his lips on you was a fleeting spark, a flicker of fire that reverberated deep within his being, unleashing a torrent of emotions that swam in the turquoise waters of their connection. Jung-kook, with the sincere devotion of a poet desperately seeking the perfect words, traced a path of kisses that flowed with the grace of a winding river, dragging towards the abyss of shared desire, an abyss that was not terrifying, but full of promises to explore, of territories never before conquered. It was an act of veneration, a ritual in which every touch of his skin transformed into a sacred verse, each inhalation into a stanza narrating a deep and infinite story, a story known only to them.

As his lips gently rested on the skin of your neck, time itself seemed to fade away, as if the entire universe had paused, holding its breath in absolute respect for the beauty of that shared moment. The warmth of his breath, suspended by the palpable intensity of the connection, intertwined with the intoxicating aroma of his skin, creating a sensory symphony that enveloped each of their senses, awakening them with the subtlety of a poem unfolding in the breeze. It was as if everything that existed beyond them faded away, leaving only the resonant echo of two hearts beating in unison, marking the rhythm of an eternal melody, resonating only in their souls, each heartbeat vibrating like a perfect chord in the vastness of their shared universe.

Each kiss was not just a physical touch; it was an act of revelation, a delicate yet profound exploration of the vulnerability that resides in total surrender. As if, through those gentle touches, it not only bared your skin but also touched the most secret corners of your soul, reverently tearing away the layers of insecurity and fear that often enveloped you like a protective shell. It was an act of emotional nakedness, a silent and respectful stripping away of every hidden corner of your being. With each kiss, he not only touched you but also removed the resistance that life had cultivated in you, allowing you to be completely his, without masks, without barriers, just the purity of being, in its most naked and authentic form.

With an almost reverent gentleness, as if fearing to disturb the very essence of what he was about to explore, Jung-kook let his hands glide slowly towards your thighs, like a navigator venturing into uncharted territory, full of undisclosed mysteries and promises that only time could reveal to you. His fingers, warm and sure, began to trace subtle invisible paths over the soft and silky skin, as if weaving a map of sensations that awakened every fiber of you being, a route that called for surrender and submission. It was a touch that needed no words, an ancient language that spoke in whispers, resonating in the dense air, charged with an electric tension that was palpable, that was felt in every breath suspended between them.

Each caress was like a verse of a poem, one that was written to the rhythm of their intertwined hearts, where skin became the canvas and desire, the indelible ink that marked their story. Jung-kook, with the skill of a consummate artist, traced the contours of your thighs with silent admiration, exploring the geography of your body with devotion like a painter shaping a masterpiece, knowing that each stroke was part of a unique creation. His hands glided with the fluidity of a winding river, flowing between the stones of time, finding their way through the softness and warmth of your skin, while the outside world faded into the distance, reduced to a distant and irrelevant murmur.

As his fingers ascended with a delicious caution, the connection between their bodies became more palpable, as if the air surrounding them were charged with electricity, with a tension impossible to contain. It was a journey into the unknown, each inch of your skin explored was a revelation, an opening to what only the soul could know, where each touch unveiled a new layer of vulnerability, an unbreakable surrender that they both shared without the need for words. Jung-kook lingered on every curve, every line, as if the contour of your body told a sacred story, one that deserved to be heard in its silence and celebrated with the respect that only the purest desire could offer.

However, the conclusion of that story, the long-awaited climax that lay beyond the closed doors of that hall, remained suspended in the air, motionless, like an unfinished melody, a contained sigh that never reached its conclusion. It remained there, floating, pulsating, a vibration in space, an intangible echo of what happened between you.

The silence, dense as fog, laden with unspoken words, unfolded between you like a broken promise that would never find its fulfillment. What happened within those walls, in the refuge of those shadows that stretched like tempting arms towards the horizon, remained trapped in that refuge, hidden, like a forgotten whisper that only the wind remembered. In every corner, desire continued to throb, persisting in the shadows, without the need to be fulfilled, without requiring a conclusion. What was lived remained inscribed in the memory of their bodies, interwoven with the same essence that fills the air after a storm.

The memory, as fleeting as dawn and as eternal as the moon, became a persistent longing, suspended in space, like a distant lighthouse, always present but never reached. The mystery of the unlived remained like a soft shadow gliding through the folds of the soul, impossible to unravel, like a labyrinth one traverses without finding the end, but which becomes one's destiny. What happened, or perhaps what never happened, remained stored in the empty space between their souls, in the stillness of their bodies, letting the whispers of desire resonate only in the echo of uncertainty.

And so, that moment transformed into the unattainable, into a thick fog that could not dissipate, a sigh suspended in time that no one else could hear or understand. The hall, once full of life, now breathed only the intangible trace of the unreal, a vestige of what could have been but never was. All those who tried to reconstruct it with words or memories would never come to understand what really happened between you, for that story could neither be told nor remembered with accuracy. Only the persistent vibration of an unresolved desire remained, the void of the unconsummated, which would continue to exist in the air, like an eternal unanswered question.

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jhsplus · 2 years ago

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Cheonsa ( 이천사 )

Preview

— summary ; she was an angel craving chaos, adventure, and they were demons seeking peace, a quiet home. how much more could they ask for? a lot, apparently.

— pairing ; ot7!ceo!bts x fem!entrepreneur!oc

— genre ; hurt/comfort, angst, romance, strangers to friends to lovers, business,

— word count ; 491

— warnings ; none

— side notes ; this was a quick little write of a preview but i can’t wait until i find enough time to write out the rest of the series!! i love it already 🤭

— series playlist ; cheonsa

⋆.ೃ࿔*

“You have some toothpaste on your lips, unnie.” Hanuel giggled, pointing at the woman who had entered the kitchen connected to the living room. “You’re such a messy brusher!” She taunted, laughing as she tuned out the cartoon playing loudly on her iPad.

Solji snickered, wiping the white paste off the corner of her mouth with her index finger before sucking on it. “Yeah,” she looked at Sunmi who hid a grin behind her hand, “i forget what i’m doing sometimes and get it everywhere.” She chuckles as Jongdae walked into the kitchen behind her. He winked at her, lightly tapping her behind as he went past.

Sunmi grimaced mockingly as she stared out of the large window, her face resting against her open palm. The penthouse was high above the settlement of the city of Seoul, curtesy of being two famous and well-looked-out-for entrepreneurs. They traveled quite a lot, having fun with one another while doing their job and Sunmi was left rest assured of her daughter’s situation as Jongdae took care of her whenever they went on trips across the globe. The day before they had arrived back in South Korea after touring Dubai, a beautiful wealthy country where the rich were kept well fed due to the oil percentages underneath their grounds, Sunmi had finally realised how much she travelled for work, but not herself. It really changed her prospective on her life in general.

A bored hum left her pink lips as the corners of her mouth twitched downward. The life she lived was prosperous, beautiful, full of good times, and hardships (leaving her sister behind, not staying in one place for long — besides for vacation or relaxation time — and so on), but there were faults in this life she lived that she couldn’t press her perfectly, recently manicured nails (done up in Dubai, of course — nothing like self-care to bring her spirits up) on. She craved an adventure, something more than this schedule she had; it was almost like her life was a chore, not a life.

Seol Sunmi needed a change, and quick.

“Noona, we should get a ferret.”

Not that kind of change.

An idea popped up in her head as she looked at the two adults conversing in the kitchen, smiles and small, short laughter shared between the two. Sunmi glanced at her daughter, who’s doe eyes were entranced by the flashing colours and squeaky voices of the characters on the small screen of her iPad in front of her.

She smirked, eyes darting between her best friend and her boyfriend.

“Hey, Hannie,” Sunmi grinned, gazing down at the small girl who stared up at her, “You wanna go on an adventure?”

Hanuel jumped up, her mother grabbing the iPad before it could drop to the floor, and chanted. “Adventure! Adventure! Adventure!” She shrieked in delight.

Solji gave the girl a look, whereas Jongdae made eye contact with Sunmi, who raised her eyebrows as she motioned to Solji with her eyes. He huffed.

Yeah, and an interesting adventure it will be.

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sopefulheart · 6 months ago

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jimin x oc on a date

It’s a chilly winter night in Seoul.

Jimin and his girlfriend are currently sitting outside at a restaurant, never mind the fact it’s thirty degrees out. They tried to get hot chocolate to warm their insides up but it ended up getting cold in five minutes.

The small nature of his body doesn’t help and now he finds himself hugging himself, desperately trying to get warm.

“Jiminie,” she says, a hint of concern in her voice. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head and shudders. “M’cold. So cold.”

“You wanna go home?”

“No,” he whines. “Wanna stay here and eat with you.”

She pulls her chair around to where Jimin’s sitting.

“What are you-“

She sits and takes Jimin in her warm embrace, her fur coat warming his skin immediately.

He smiles. “You’re like a giant teddy bear, noona.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says. Giggling softly, she squeezes him tight before he takes another bite of his pork.

She watches him eat for a while, not saying anything while he does so. He quickly catches on and glances back at her, confused.

“What?”

“So small,” she boops his nose. “You’re so cute.”

Jimin blushes and laughs softly. He looks over at her warm food, thinking about how cold it’ll be in five minutes. “Don’t you wanna eat?”

“I can wait for you to finish.”

His smile fades quickly. “Oh, noona-“

“It’s okay, Jiminie. I can always take it home and eat.”

“But everyone knows leftovers aren’t as good as fresh food,” he replies quickly.

“I love you too much. You were talking about how hungry you were on the way here.”

“Yeah…”

“And the faster you eat the faster I can eat, right?”

This realization makes him start eating again while his girlfriend watches him, an endeared expression on her face.

Once they’re both done eating a little while later, Jimin lays back in his girlfriend’s arms as they people-watch. They never have to talk to make it enjoyable, they just love being in each other's company.

“Jiminie, you wanna go home now? We can watch a movie and cuddle and be warm and comfortable.”

He nods excitedly.

And once they get a container for her leftovers, they leave the restaurant hand in hand. The walk back to the apartment isn’t far, and they enjoy every moment they spend with each other.

Once they get back, they each get into their version of comfy pajamas (those really fluffy sets that make you toasty). They break out red wine and crackers (something to nibble on, said Jimin) and cuddle in front of the TV.

In the middle of the movie, Jimin gives her an innocent kiss.

“What was that for?”

He shrugs and does it again, this time more eager but not trying anything more. She’s surprised but returns the kiss, being the one to turn it into something less innocent by licking into his mouth.

Jimin grabs her cheek, half his warm hand covered by the sleeve of his pajama shirt. She adjusts her position too, grabbing onto his small waist with warm hands burning through his shirt.

She swallows his whimper at the touch, their lips parting slightly for a gasp of air then pressing together again.

He hums and parts his lips from hers and down to her jawline and neck, taking the reins for now. He nips ever so gently at her neck, but she wants more and she lets it be known.

“Jiminie,” she gasps.

He scrapes teeth at the spot, taking pleasure in her whining for more. Licking at her neck a little, he keeps the kisses going.

“Fuck,” she whines, her voice strained.

“Noona,” he says. He smirks ever so cunningly, lips still on her skin and teasing her.

“You know what I want.”

He hums. “Do I?”

“You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

Jimin nips. The whimper that comes out is a little too loud for what they're doing here.

He looks up at her and she looks just as surprised. “Wow.”

“Jesus.” She blushes, quite embarrassed. “Shut up, Jiminie.”

“Want me to do it again?”

She hangs her head and smiles. “God you’re so…”

“What?”

“You act so small and little and tiny and then you go and do this behind closed doors and make me seem like the small innocent little deer that you are.”

He tilts his head.

“Like that,” she says.

Jimin wistfully sighs and trails a finger down her jawline. “Oh noona, I love you.”

“I love you.”

#jimin x oc #jimin oneshot #bts oneshot #no smut #fluffy fluff #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #makeout kinda #kissin #my fic #original character #small boy #baby boy

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missywritesfor7 · 1 year ago

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🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺

Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?

Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc

Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 30: Just Dance ||

I learned that my parents had no idea Ryan was bailed out. A bit of research on their part found that an old friend of his bailed him out. An old friend who is part of the reason why Ryan started his criminal career many moons ago.

Keri and Lilly are safe, still living in a shelter an hour away from me. I hope to get a chance to visit them soon now that finals are over. I’ve been texting Keri and getting updates on Lilly and honestly I can’t wait to hold her again.

Ryan has been sitting in jail without bail since they realized he’s a flight risk. In the meantime I’ve been able to get a restraining order against him. If for whatever reason he gets out again he’s not allowed within 100 feet of me. I feel a little better now that that’s done.

Jimin is gearing up for his summer class that he agreed to teach solo. It’s a much more fast paced class since it’s 8 weeks long rather than the usual 15-16. As before, his class will have a performance at the end of the term, and I think he may pull his hair out before the term even starts.

On top of that he still hasn’t been cleared by his doctor to dance. It seems he’s been feeling more pressured since then. He’s been putting all of his energy into his class performance this time around. He’s working hard on choreography and even harder on strengthening his leg. He says his doctor told him he’s close, but not quite there yet. He’s starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel and he’s beyond ready to continue his passion on stage.

We’re all on track to graduate next spring so I decided not to enroll in any summer courses. I know I’ll probably be stressed out all year so I want to take the summer to just relax a bit. Plus, after this year I feel like I definitely need a break.

Tae decided to take one film class over the summer as an elective. He really enjoys it and I think he does amazing working with film. I see him less but he always comes by occasionally to show me what he’s working on and eat my snacks.

Jin and I are nearing the end of our lease and we haven’t fully decided if we’ll renew or not. Actually I don’t plan on going anywhere so I have no problem renewing my lease.

Jin on the other hand is unsure of what he wants to do. He recently signed a contract with an entertainment company that got him cast in a small but important role in a new drama. He’s toying with the idea of dropping out of school completely to focus on that. If he does then he’ll move closer to his new agency and I would have to find a new roommate.

I don’t want Jin to leave school for selfish reasons, but honestly I’m happy for him. If he gets the chance to drop out and make it big then I encourage it, he’s amazing at what he does.

Finding a new roommate would be easy if I could get Jimin to move in with me. But I’m not sure he’d leave Hoseok without a roommate. They’re both very close and are like roommate soulmates. I doubt he’d leave Hoseok behind so I don’t even bother to ask. I’ll just continue holding out hope that Jin will stick around just one more year.

After midterms I decide that Jimin and I should go out. While he’s been on campus working day in and day out I’ve been doing freelance work, mostly weddings and small events. Still it’s not enough to keep me fully occupied during the times that Jimin is gone. I’m starting to miss him quite a bit so I decided we would have date night this weekend.

We start our evening at an arcade for some friendly competition. We decide to make a bet where we’ll play various games and whoever loses the most games will have to buy dinner the next time we go out. That makes the friendly part of the competition a little less friendly.

He beats me at air hockey and basketball but that’s where his win streak ends. I beat him with ease at Guitar Hero and surprisingly I win at Dance Dance Revolution as well. We play a few racing games and I walk away with a clear win. Afterwards we go to a Korean BBQ restaurant where I relish in my victory.

“I can’t believe I beat the worlds best dancer at DDR!” I tease.

“That game isn’t even real dancing!” Jimin pouts.

“Don’t be mad because you lost,” I chuckle. “So where are you going to take me for dinner as your punishment?”

“McDonald’s,” he smirks.

“Fuck you!” I huff.

“Don’t worry,” he says giggling. “I’ll take you somewhere special.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he winks. “Maybe after my class’s show at the end of the term? You’re going to be there right?”

“Of course I’ll be there.” He’s only asked me about 5000 times the past week. I know I missed his last show, but I wouldn’t miss this one for the world.

“Promise?”

“Yes, baby. I’ve promised many times. Do you think I wouldn’t be there?”

“No,” he looks away shyly. “This one is just…special. I worked really hard on the choreography and I want you to see it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there no matter what.”

“I’ll take you somewhere nice to eat after.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

When we finish our dinner we go for a short stroll down the street hand in hand. We decide to stop at a nearby food truck selling ice cream and get ourselves a couple of cones.

It’s a nice evening and I just enjoy getting to go out and spend time with him. For the first time since the summer began his face has been lit up just the way it used to always do before he started stressing himself out with teaching.

“So Jin texted me this morning,” I say as we finish up our ice cream on a nearby bench.

“How’s his shooting going?” Jimin asks.

“It’s going great. So great that he decided he won’t be staying in school.” I smile with my head down at the bittersweet reality. “I’m happy for him, but…now I have to find a new roommate.”

I look to Jimin hoping maybe he takes the hint. Maybe he’ll suggest moving in with me so I won’t have to. You would think by now I’d learn to be direct with him, but I’m afraid of putting him in an odd position if he has no desire to leave Hoseok.

“That’s good for him,” he says smiling. “I knew he would make it big. How soon will you need to find a roommate?”

“Our lease ends next month so hopefully I can find someone to move in soon after.”

“You will,” he says giving his bright enthusiastic smile. “I know you will.” He gives me a sweet kiss on my cheek and I can’t help but blush. I don’t know how but whoever I end up rooming with is going to have to get used to him being around all the time.

We remain cuddled on the bench a little longer after finishing our ice cream. I live for the moments when I can rest in his arms and feel so safe and warm. He holds me tightly as if I were to fly away and peppers my face with soft kisses. He’s so gentle and delicate with the way he touches me. The way he handles me like a precious porcelain doll. I couldn’t ask for a better man to be in love with.

Our date night proved to be just the break Jimin needed to power through the rest of this summer term. He’s been happier and brighter each day. There’s less stress and he’s filled with excitement. For what I’m not too sure. He says he’s happy for his class’s performance this weekend. He’s happy that practices are going smoothly. And he says he’s happy to take me out somewhere special afterwards. I don’t know what special restaurant he has in mind, but he insisted on even picking my outfit for the night.

The day of the show he goes through my closet looking for an outfit he finds suitable. I sit on my bed laughing at him every time he comes across another piece of clothing that I’ve stolen from him.

“I was looking for this shirt!” He says pulling one of his t-shirts off the hanger. “How do you have so much of my stuff??” He laughs.

“You leave me unsupervised way too much,” I giggle.

“I guess I’ll have to watch you closer from now on.”

“I’m still going to steal your stuff,” I say with a smirk and a shrug.

He keeps digging through my closet finally pulling out a purple dress that unsurprisingly still has the tags on it.

“This is perfect,” he says giving the dress to me.

“This? Why?”

“You said dresses are for special occasions. This is a special occasion.” He goes back into my closet and pulls out a pair of silver strappy heels. “These too.”

“This is all so…fancy. Are you about to propose to me or something?” I joke.

“Do you want me to?”

“Don’t play games with my little heart,” I laugh. Although if he wanted to propose to me right now I sure as hell wouldn’t say no.

We get to the auditorium and I take my seat right up front where Jimin says he has reserved just for me. Afterwards he heads backstage with his class while I read the program for the night in my seat.

Since this is the summer term there’s less performances than there would be after a full spring or fall semester. There’s only two other classes performing, followed by Jimin’s class at the end. But I also couldn’t help but notice a performance listed after his class.

It doesn’t have much information other than it’s a performance by a special guest. Maybe this is what had him so excited? I know he’s well connected with people from all corners of the dancing world.

Plus there’s also Hoseok who’s a celebrity dancer himself, even more so now since his crew made it to the finals of a national competition last month. They may not have won in the end, but social media has been buzzing with pictures and videos of this “amazing breakout dance crew” and their eye catching leader.

Maybe he got Hoseok to perform, that would definitely be a great surprise for everyone. Hoseok and Jimin are so close they can talk each other into doing anything. I can imagine Jimin giving Hoseok one pouty look and instantly getting whatever he wants out of him.

Whoever it is I’m excited to see the whole show. I wish I had my camera, I absolutely love getting photos of performers, but I was forbidden by Jimin. He says someone will already be there taking photos and videos so I won’t need to. He also says I can’t focus on the show if I’m too busy taking photos. So just this once (again) I let his pouty beak talk me into letting him have his way.

The show finally gets started, first with an introduction from the head of the dance department. He keeps it brief but expresses how proud he is of all the students and instructors, and how excited he is about the upcoming year.

Next the first class steps on stage for their performance. Their instructor starts by introducing the 8 dancers and explaining the concept of their routine. This class is made up of first year students and even one student who only just graduated high school and was accepted into the summer course based on his dance accomplishments in high school.

The concept of their performance is based around perfecting the basics and fundamentals. I’m not sure how they consider this basic, because once the track starts and they begin dancing it looks anything but basic. They’re dancing to a medley of songs of different genres. It looks like a challenging routine and I wonder how they all make it to the end flawlessly and without dripping pools of sweat.

The second class is made up of intermediate level hip hop dancers. There’s 10 students in this class and their performance is an anthology of hip hop music from the 80s to present day. It’s a high energy performance and the entire crowd is bouncing along to the music. Every pop and lock is precise and on point with every beat of the music. It’s a fun and incredible show to the very end of their routine.

Finally Jimin comes out to introduce his class. He looks nervous but also incredibly handsome. I give him a big proud smile to help him feel more at ease. He smiles back at me and takes a deep breath before speaking to the crowd. He introduces his 7 students who are intermediate contemporary dancers.

“The theme of this routine is life,” he says. “How precious and fulfilling it can be, but also how fragile and painful it can be. This is Life.”He steps to the side and his class begins their routine once the soft orchestral music begins playing.

Their moves are hypnotizing and so perfectly in sync with the music. So much emotion can be felt in each formation that the group breaks into. There are points of the routine where together their bodies create optical illusions that blow me away. Everything is so well coordinated and the teamwork between the students is perfect. It has to be, this routine clearly relies a lot on everyone moving together in order for the visuals to work.

I look over at Jimin at the side of the stage and he’s fully encapsulated in the performance. I can see him silently counting steps and nodding in satisfaction at various points. His hard work has paid off in this amazing performance and I couldn’t be more proud. It’s clear why he wanted to make sure I didn’t miss this one, he’s done an incredible job putting this entire choreography together.

At the end they all take their bow and I blow many kisses Jimin’s way. He’s smiling and blushing but that only makes me blow more kisses at him. His class leaves the stage but instead of leaving with them, he walks up to the microphone and begins speaking.

“So,” he starts sounding more nervous than he did introducing his class. “As some of you may know, I tore my acl during the fall semester. It’s been very difficult dealing with recovery and being unable to dance for so long. Longer than I’ve ever gone without dancing since I started at the age of 6.” He takes another deep grounding breath before continuing. “I don’t think I would have made it this far without the amazing people that supported me when I was at my lowest. My family and my friends, the entire dance department, everyone has given me the strength to carry on and not give up.”

He’s fighting tears now. My baby is getting emotional and it’s taking everything in me to not run up on stage to pull him into a big loving hug. I know everything he’s been through during this time and I just hope he knows how much he’s grown.

“This next special performance is something I want to dedicate to everyone who stood by my side. But most importantly, I want to dedicate this to my better half, Mina.” He looks my way and smiles. “Thank you for being there. For being my rock. For talking sense into me when I’m being unreasonable. And for loving me.” He looks back towards the crowd and continues. “I got some help from a great friend who I owe so much for doing this for me. Please enjoy this performance titled Love.”

He steps off leaving the stage completely. The lights dim and a few people roll a piano out to the back of the stage. A shadowy figure steps up to piano and takes a seat. When the spotlight shines towards him I realize it’s Yoongi.

The enigma himself has made an appearance and the crowd is audibly excited about this special guest. Typically he disappears over the summer and pops back up with a new writing or producing credit added to his repertoire. He could be anywhere doing anything right now, but just as I noticed when he came up with the idea for the benefit concert for Jimin, he has a heart of gold. Not to mention he has to know how much of a celebrity he is, anyone would pay to see him but he’s doing this for free for his friend.

He begins playing a song soft and slow at first. It’s takes a moment before I realize this is the song that Jimin was going to dance to for his recital before he got hurt. He worked hard creating and redoing his choreography for this song. The song itself is light and beautiful, Yoongi plays the notes so smoothly it feels as if he barely even touches the keys.

A moment later someone steps out onto the stage wearing a black, almost completely sheer outfit. The spotlight stays on Yoongi though as the dancer begins dancing slowly and smoothly across the shadows of the stage.

His body moves and bends in ways that make my joints hurts just watching. He shows incredible strength with thighs as thick and strong as they’ve always been. Maybe stronger. Jimin’s stomach, which I’ve committed to memory by now, is too much for the sheer top he’s wearing. My eyes trace every ab, every ridge of his biceps, all the way around to his back as he spins around to the music.

Watching Jimin dance has always been mesmerizing, even in high school his ability to capture the audience is unmatched. I’ve missed watching him dance.

I’m watching him dance.

Jimin is dancing.

Holy shit.

Jimin is on stage dancing.

My jaw hits the floor as the spotlight moves away from Yoongi and shines on Jimin confirming that I’m not hallucinating. He’s gliding across the stage as if he had never been injured. His face looks focused and determined, but his moves are loose and relaxed.

The song picks up and his moves intensify quickly. It’s a powerful performance and I can’t help but shed a tear at the fact that he dedicated this to me and called it Love.

At one point he pulls a rose from I swear out of his ass, and dances across the stage where he places in front of a stuffed cat I didn’t even realize was there. It’s Blossom. The calico cat I bought him at the hospital. The cat he left on his bed everyday since. The cat that we joked was our child once we began officially dating. The cat he would send me selfies with whenever I wasn’t with him.

Through my tears I try watching on as he floats on every note that Yoongi finesses out of the piano. Jimin does one more turn and a shower of purple confetti erupts around him. It’s grand and beautiful and I’m crying so much.

He and Yoongi stand at the front of the stage looking out to the standing ovation that’s erupted throughout the crowd. Somehow I’m standing, though my legs are weak from the overwhelming emotions I’m feeling.

Jimin gives Yoongi a big hug which causes him to turn bright red, though his gummy smile gives away how much he appreciates it. Jimin pulls out another rose from thin air and I make a mental note that I need to ask him when he became a magician, because how the fuck?

He comes off the stage and walks towards me holding the rose out.

“For you, my love,” he says wrapping his arms around me.

“I love you so much,” I say giving him a kiss. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

In this very moment I felt everything disappear. Everything ceased to exist around us. The only people on this planet are me and Jimin. There’s no crowd. No stage. No auditorium. No one pulling Jimin away for photos or an interview. No one asking me questions about our relationship. No one insisting that we stand on stage together for a photo for the newspaper.

No, even as we make our way to the special restaurant Jimin has in store for me there are no other cars on the road. There’s no one in the steakhouse on the top floor of one of the skyscrapers in the city. I hardly even notice the server who takes our order and delivers drinks and fresh bread.

I notice only Jimin. I see, I hear, I feel only Jimin.

“So,” Jimin says. “What did you think?”

“I…it was…baby, it was everything to me.” I struggle because there really are no words to describe the way I feel right now. “How…I mean were you cleared to dance? Babe, oh my god were you supposed to do all of that?” It took this long for me to remember he’s not supposed to be dancing yet. I was so taken by his performance that I forgot he’s still supposed to be recovering.

“It’s ok,” Jimin chuckles reaching across the table to hold my hands. “I was actually cleared a month ago.”

“A month ago??”

“I was going to tell you, but then I got this idea to surprise you instead.” He smiles, gently squeezing my hands. “I wanted to dedicate my comeback to you so it worked out.”

“My love,” I whisper through tears.

“Also,” he says hesitantly. He takes a breath. “I wanted to ask you…what if I maybe…moved my stuff into your place? Like, if it was my place?”

“Jimin,” I laugh. He’s too cute for words and it only makes it harder for me to hold back my tears. “Are you asking to move in with me?”

“I mean only if you want me too. It’s your place so it’s up to you. I just thought, cause Hoseok is moving out so…I kind of need a roommate too so maybe-“

“Yes you can move in with me! My sweet baby Jiminie, I thought you would never ask!”

“I just wasn’t sure,” he says shyly. “You never asked so…”

“Well I didn’t ask because I didn’t think you would leave Hoseok, but he’s moving out?”

“Yeah he told me yesterday that he’ll be spending the next year abroad so he’ll be moving out soon.”

“That’s perfect,” I say trying to not make it sound like I’m too happy about Hoseok leaving. I’m just happy he’s created the opportunity for Jimin and I to move in together.

“You won’t get tired of me?” He asks smirking.

“I should be asking you that,” I laugh. “How many times will you clean up my vomit before you move back out?”

“On second thought, I don’t think this will work out,” he giggles hysterically as I playfully threaten to throw my knife at him. “I’m kidding, babe,” he laughs. “If that’s what I have to do to take care of you then I’ll do it over and over again.”

“I would do the same for you too, my love.”

“Really?” He asks with a big bright smile. “You promise?” He asks raising his tiny pinky finger.

I raise my pinky and link it tightly with his. Tight enough for him to know how much I mean it.

“Promise.”

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 6 months ago

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Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Eight

Summary: After Jungkook's outburst Jin gives you a ride home and assures you everything will work out just fine...until you find something unexpected on your doorstep throwing you for a loop Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an argument and a depiction of a panic attack (nothing crazy) a/n: horribly edited but hopefully this will hold you over till I come out with my next update 😅 Start from the beginning

"Jungkook stop I didn't mean it. I just..." I call out trying my best to catch up.

"You just what? Want to continue to string me along? Keep me waiting for you? Luna I love you, I've loved you for years. So excuse me for feeling fucked up seeing you with other guys. I want to be with you and knowing that you might not feel the same is killing me" he says cutting me off before I can explain myself.

"Jungkook please, don't do this. It's been a day, one fucking day since you told me. So excuse me if I'm asking for more time before making this kind of decision. This is exactly what I was afraid of! I don't want this to tear us apart, and from the way you've been acting it's just making my decision so much harder" I say showing him how serious this situation is.

"Jungkook I love you too, so much...". "Then why can't we-" he says eagerly jumping in. "I wasn't finished" I say regaining control. "...but maybe we should spend some time apart" I say looking down, now feeling unsure of myself.

"I know you've told me that you're feeling insecure being in this sort of situation and maybe you were right. Maybe you shouldn't have brought me here. I just... I need some time to process this, you're not just some guy that I'm okay with never seeing again after one failed date. You're my best friend, I care about you. I care about you so fucking much that I can't stand the thought of losing you" I say, my voice cracking.

"Jungkook I'm scared, I'm so fucking scared and I don't want to mess this up. I couldn't even imagine what my life would look like if it didn't have you in it. So please, just let me think about this for a little while and then we can work this out... together" I say grabbing his hand.

He returns my firm grasp on his hand but can't seem to look me in the eye. "Hey" I say tilting my face down towards the spot he's looking at. "Jungkook talk to me...please" I say feeling uncertain of my decision.

"You said we could figure this out together, yet you're trying to push me away. Luna what do you want from me? You want me to just act happy and make things go back to normal? I've been doing that for years and I don't think I can keep pretending" he says letting go of my hand.

"Is everything okay over here?" I hear Namjoon ask behind us. "Everything is fine" Jungkook says before giving me an expression that has so many emotions hidden behind it and turns to walk away. Before I can try to go after him again Namjoon takes a hold of my wrist. "I'll talk to him" he says simply and jogs to catch up with him.

I stand there downtrodden before I jump slightly, feeling someone's hand on my shoulder. "It's okay it's just me" I hear Jin say as I turn around to face him. "Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Did all of you guys hear that?" I say wiping away some stray tears. "Not all of us, Namjoon and I were the only ones who followed you" he says with a sad smile.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks and I drop my head avoiding his eye contact. "No...but do you think one of you guys could give me a ride home? I don't think Jungkook is really in the mood to speak to me right now" I relay, never thinking I would ever have to say something like that. "Of course, let me go grab my keys" he says, patting my shoulder, I'm sure in an effort to reassure me that everything is going to be okay before running back to the arcade.

I stand against the railing to look out and watch the moonlight reflect on the surface of the water, hoping and praying I did the right thing but the pit in my stomach says otherwise.

"Are you ready to go?" I hear Jin say as he makes his way back, my mind having trailed off for a while. "Yeah" I say plainly but make no moves to leave. "You guys are gonna work it out. Jungkook can get a little, emotional sometimes but I know it's only because he cares about you" he says walking over to me and giving my shoulder a friendly bump with his.

"I know but I'm just scared that if things change between us..." I pause trying to gather my thoughts. "If we get into a relationship with each other is he gonna start acting like this? Then again if we don't end up together and I decide to date someone else is he going to end our friendship? Jin this is just too much" I say letting my head droop.

"I think you both need some time to really think this through. Like you said this is a big decision and it shouldn't be taken lightly. You've both become a constant in each other's lives so it's important that you think things through" we stand there in silence for a few more moments before he gives my shoulder another light bump.

"Come on, let's get you home. Jungkook would kill me if I let you stay out too late and you caught a cold" he says, laughing at his possible reaction. I silently follow behind him getting lost in thought again until we reach the car and he has me put my address in his phone.

After sitting in silence for a while I jump when I hear Jin's phone ringing through the speakers. Namjoon's name flashes on screen so Jin doesn't hesitate to answer. "How's he doing?" Jin opens with. "He'll be alright, I think we all just teased him a little too much. Are you guys still here or are you taking Luna home?" I take that opportunity to jump in to answer.

"Hey Joon he's taking me home right now. Is he really okay? I didn't mean to hurt him I just-" "Hey don't worry about it okay? He's gonna be fine. Just give him some time to cool off, I'm sure you guys will be able to work this out" he cuts me off in an effort to soothe my anxiety. I nod my head hoping he'll take my silence as an answer. Jin continues the conversation with Joon for a little bit and I let the sounds of their voices drown out as I watch the scenery go by.

"Luna" I hear Jin say, calling me out of my thoughts. "I'm sorry did you say something?" I ask, hoping he knows that I wasn't trying to ignore him. "Are you hungry?" he asks with a smile on his face. "Because I'm starving" he continues. I smile at his enthusiasm and can't help but agree with him. "You know now that you mention it I could really go for a burger" I say offering up a suggestion. "A burgers it is!" he agrees, satisfied with our conclusion.

As we get closer to the city he turns the navigation off and we start to make our way to the burger joint. Once we're there Jin runs inside to grab our order and comes back with a huge bag of food.

"What did you get? One of everything?" I ask laughing at his excited face. "No..." he denies looking guilty and I just laugh in response. He drives us to a place with a beautiful view and we sit there in silence for a while, enjoying our food quietly. "So how did you meet Jungkook?" he asks clearing his throat after a rather huge bite of his second burger. I smile at his cute chubby cheeks filling up with more food a moment later.

"It's a long story but, we grew up together. We met at a park in our neighborhood one day and we just decided to meet back up at the same time everyday after that and I guess the rest is history. We've been inseparable since" I say with a melancholy feeling in my heart.

"Did you ever think that you might've had a crush on him when you were younger?" he continues as he picks up his milkshake to take a drink. "I don't know, maybe. I knew once we got a little older that he was cute, like I'm not blind but I guess I was too insecure that I didn't think he would ever see me as someone other than a friend. So I gave up early" I answer starting to lose my appetite.

I take a sip of my Sprite and let out a big sigh, looking out at the city lights. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable" He says leaning his head forward trying to catch my gaze. "No it's okay, it's just the past few days have been exhausting on all fronts and so I'm just not sure how I should feel about anything. All I know is that I miss him and I really don't want to mess this up" I say hanging my head.

"You miss him? You saw him like 2 hours ago" he teases, trying to lighten up the mood. "I know but hate it when we fight and the fact that my decision determines our relationship going forward scares the fuck out of me" I say leaning my head back on the headrest and running my fingers through my hair.

"Although Jungkook is an impatient brat most of the time I know he'll give you your space to get your feelings in order. At the end of the day he loves you and wants the best for you so don't forget that. He wouldn't want you to force yourself to do something you don't want to do so don't over think it" he finishes.

"You realize you just told someone who has anxiety not to overthink something that could change the course of their life right?" I say with a deadpan expression. He looks at me with wide eyes and an open mouth not really sure what to say. I let a smile crack a bit and he lets out a breath and laughs nervously. "It's okay I know you mean well, I've just gotta take a breather" I reassure, taking the pressure off him.

We sit in silence for a while, both looking out at the view and I take in a deep breath before turning towards him. "Do you think you could take me home? I'm getting really tired." I say with a slight smile. "Sure of course, just put in your address again and we'll head out" he says turning on the car and backing up to make our way back to the main road. I motion for the area he can drop me off at once we pull up to my place and he parks his car for a second.

"Hey can I have your phone for a second?" he asks and I hand it to him unlocking it beforehand. "There's my number. Call me if you need anything okay? Jungkook's my friend, but you are too" he says giving me a genuine smile.

"Text me so I have your number and don't stay up too late!" he says like the caring older brother that I know he has already become for me. "See you soon, let me know when you get home" I say waving him off as he drives away.

I turn around and make my way to my apartment where I see a red envelope addressed to me on my doorstep. After taking a quick look around I pick it up before unlocking my door and getting inside.

I place my bag and phone down on the kitchen table after taking my shoes off at the front door and walk towards my couch to sit down while looking over the envelop curiously.

I open it and immediately drop it and its contents all over the floor. Inside are pictures and polaroids of me, Grey and Jungkook. Some at work, others in the park or at the mall and even where Jungkook and I had been when he kissed me last night.

There are even ones from today of us at the arcade with Jungkook's friends and one of Jin and I in his car. Which means, whoever the fuck did this is still close.

I run towards my door and take a quick glance outside into the hallway and the window at the end of it but I can't find anyone. I hurry back into my apartment and close the door, feeling my breathing pick up as I slide my back along it. Tears start brimming in my eyes, threatening to fall but I pick myself up off the floor and rush to the table to get my phone and open my recent texts and hit call.

"Noona?" I hear Jimin say on the other line. I whimper as I try to clear my throat and keep my voice level. I open my mouth to say something but sob instead, feeling all the emotions flood to the surface.

"Noona are you okay? Where are you?" he says voice full of concern.

"I'm sorry Jimin I didn't mean to call you" I explain through cries.

"No it's okay don't worry about it. What's wrong, are you hurt? Where are you?" he continues hoping to figure out how to help me.

"I'm home it's just-" I say, a sob cutting me off.

"Do you want me to come over?" he asks and I can hear him get up and grab his keys leaving me whimpering in agreement, hoping he'll get here soon.

"Okay send me your location. I'm on my way" he says and I hang up, sending him my live location and while he's on his way over here I send him the code to my door so he can come right in.

Ten minutes later I hear him unlock the door and he rushes over to where I'm sitting and crying on the floor. "Noona what's wrong?" he says not really knowing how to comfort me. I lean into him and he takes that as the okay to wrap his arms around me.

I start crying even more now that he's here and he does his best to soothe me by rubbing my back and once the sobs turn into sniffles and my breathing comes back down to normal I feel him push me away the tiniest bit so he can look at me.

"Hey" he says with a smile and does his best to wipe the tears off my cheeks and smooth my hair back from my face. "Hey" I say in return, not being able to make eye contact just yet.

"Do you want some water?" he asks still rubbing my back hoping to encourage me to take deep breaths. I nod my head and he stands up, helping me up as well and walks me over to the couch before he grabs a water bottle out of the fridge.

I mumble a quick thank you and gulp down half of it, not realizing how thirsty I had been until now. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, grabbing one of my hands and I hesitate for a second but I lean down and pick up the pictures that are all over the floor and lay them out on the coffee table.

"What are these?" he asks, brows pinched together while looking at all the photos with a puzzled expression, eyes glancing over every picture for a second or two before he gets to a picture of Jungkook and I kissing today with 'I'm Watching You' scrawled out across it with Jungkook's face scratched out along with the rest of them.

"Who would do this?" he whispers more to himself, mixed emotions flooding his features. "I don't know, I just showed up and it was sitting outside my door" I say motioning towards it. "Has this ever happened to you before?" he asks searching my face for any tells. "No not at all, I have no idea who this would've come from" I say shaking my head.

He nods and picks up the picture with the note on it to take a closer look at Jungkook and I in the intimate embrace. I take the picture out of his hand and collect the rest of them, putting them back into the envelope.

"Who's that?" he asks, trying to sound neutral but I can clearly see that he's hurting. "Um he's my friend" I say hoping we can move past it.

"Do you always kiss your friends like that?" he asks, nodding his head towards the the envelope. "Um, well no" I say looking away feeling somehow guilty. "So you're dating?" he continues, trying to figure out what Jungkook is to me. "No, but he wants to" I say owning up to it since he came all the way over here to help me.

He deserves some sort of explanation.

"You know that I want to date you too right?" he lets out, reminding me of the other night and I nod my head, feeling somewhat guilty for telling him he couldn't kiss me after laying all the cards on the table so to say.

"That picture was from today wasn't it?" he says taking note of the fact that my outfit matches the one in the picture. I nod my head again "Yeah it was" I confirm and he takes a deep breath, thinking for a second before saying what's been on his mind.

"Noona do I still have a chance with you? Because if I don't then please don't lead me on. I know we just met but I really like you" he says tilting my chin up so I can look at him. "I like you too, I just don't know how I feel about anything right now" I let out with a sigh. "Can you give me some time? I really just need to take a breather" I say hoping that he'll understand.

"Of course," he says giving me a sweet smile and pulls me into an embrace "take all the time you need". For some reason I feel my heart flutter at his response and compare it to Jungkook's outburst a few hours ago. I burry my face into his chest and take note of how comfortable I feel with him already, starting to relax in his embrace.

"Are you getting sleepy?" he ask finding me adorable and I hum in acknowledgement before I feel him pick me up and start walking over to my room. "Woah what are you doing?" I say wrapping my arms around his neck trying to keep myself from falling. "Taking you to bed" he says and smiles while walking into the room and then carefully sets me down on it.

"You know you didn't have to do that" I pout while I get under the covers. "I know, but I wanted to" he chuckles, brushing the hair off my face. He leans down and pauses for a moment but decides to give me a kiss on the forehead. I feel my heart flutter again at the action and watch as he pulls away and looks at me with a mixed expression.

"I should probably head back" he says straightening up and giving me space hoping that he hasn't made me uncomfortable. "Wait" I say and reach out to grab his hand. "Can you stay with me?" I ask tentatively, "I'm scared whoever might've left those might come back" I say hoping he'll stay.

He crouches down so he's eye level with me and gives my hand a squeeze. "Sure, I'll sleep out in the living room. Do you have an extra pillow and blanket?" he asks and runs his fingers through my hair. "Really?" I ask, so thankful he's going to stay as he nods his head in confirmation, "There's some in the closet over there" I say nodding towards it.

He smiles at me and straightens up, walks over to it and grabs what he might need for the night. He turns to go and I call out his name softly. He turns to me and waits for me to continue. "You are welcome to anything in the house okay, and..." I say training off a bit. "You're welcome" he says sweetly knowing what I was going to say and leaves closing the door.

I open my eyes and look around my room and realize that it's still dark outside. I turn and grab my phone to check the time and see that it's barely three o'clock in the morning. I put my phone back down on my nightstand and my eyes catch a glimpse out of my bedroom window.

I let them wander for a second until I notice the shadows start to blend into the shadow of a figure looking into my window. My breathing picks up and I feel myself starting to hyperventilate remembering the events from earlier tonight. The next thing I'm greeted with is Jimin in my room grabbing me and bringing me into an embrace.

I cling onto him and realize now that I'm crying and shaking and already spun up into another panic attack. He shushes me quietly and runs his hand through my hair in hopes of calming me down and I burry myself deeper into his hold, breathing in his sent and I slowly feel my breathing come back down to normal and the shaking has subsided leaving me feeling physically and emotionally spent.

"Are you okay?" he says starting to rub my back helping me ride out this wave. I nod my head and pull back from his embrace. "I'm sorry" I say and wipe away the remaining tears on my face. "Hey, don't ever say you're sorry, especially for things like this" he says while tucking my hair behind my ear.

"What happened?" he continues and tilts his head to the side trying to catch my glance. "My mind was playing tricks on me and I thought I saw someone watching me sleep through my window" I say while bringing my gaze back over to it. "I'm sorry I woke you up" I say feeling even more guilty, slowly coming back to my senses.

"What did I just say about saying sorry?" he says in a playful tone. "But I woke you up and I-" "Luna it's okay" he says cutting me off before I get started. "I came here to be with you. You needed someone and you called me, so let me help you okay?" he says and makes sure I keep eye contact with him this time. "Come here" he says and pulls me into a tight embrace.

We stay like that for a while and then he pulls away and offers to get me a glass of water again. "You gonna be okay in here?" he asks after I've finished the glass. "Could you... um" I start but hesitate. "Could I what?" he says tilting his head to the side. "Do you think you could come sleep next to me?" I ask timidly. He gives me a soft smile and walks over on the other side of the bed and gets under the covers without hesitating.

I scoot closer to him and tentatively lay my head on his chest which he welcomes and wraps an arm around me. "Is this okay?" I ask hoping I haven't been too forward with all of this. "It's perfect" he says and wraps his other arm around me pulling me even closer. "Goodnight Noona" he says and I feel the way his deep voice rumbles through his chest. "Goodnight Jimin" I mumble feeling myself drifting off to sleep again.

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dde719 · 8 months ago

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I'm forever wishing ao3 had a conversation section but here's what's going on atm. I promise that I haven't disappeared, I have been working a lot before my trip besties.

#bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts #bangtan #yoongi x oc #jimin x oc #jikook #drama #jimin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yn stories #original character

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pennedbylisse · 1 year ago

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OPERATION CUPID | ep. 2

ep. 1 | ep. 3 |

wc: 4.4k

tracklist: 'halley's comet' by billie eilish

tense and POV: present and 3rd person

OPERATION CUPID Classified Excerpts

Jimin holds his phone at head-level and poses for what appears to be a selfie amidst an empty diner.

He attempts for it to be discreet, something dismissible by Namjoon marching to and fro.

The tall and broad man is far too preoccupied with restocking to notice the camera lens purposefully aimed at his frame, over Jimin's shoulder. It's not unlike him to become so hyper-fixated on a task that he blurs the surroundings. His eye sight is healthy, but prone to tunnel-vision.

It's a slow day at Halley's - has been such for a number of weeks now. What normally would be Wednesdays, which passed on as slow as molasses with the arrival of two, five, ten (if lucky) clients, had now ulcerated into slow weekends.

To a company, there's nothing as frightening as a slow Friday evening.

False comforts could be summed up with the phrase "Snow Season is the Slow Season” which they would recite to one another in the stillness. An acknowledgement of the fleetingness of seasons. A promise for a better tomorrow, of hope for prosperity somewhere in the vast horizon.

And, like the old remedy of honey for a sore throat, it would do the trick. It would soothe their unease long enough for the skies to darken, which during the winter isn't long at all.

Only the hours of daylight have started to extend with each day that's strikethrough on the calendar hung up on the wall, the chill in the weather easing with grace. There hasn’t been snowfall in weeks.

Economic discrepancies have started to become pervasive - like cracks on a ceiling letting in rain. Drips amassing to puddles on the tile floor.

They can be ignored and evaded until you misstep and slip, landing on your tailbone, forced to face the truth of the matter. To hold its weight in its entirety and try not to cave in under the gravity.

It’s not for a lack of trying. Namjoon is as analytical as he is determined, and there’s no one more appropriate to run the diner, but even with his creative solutions, progress is scarce.

Even if he were to lay out and repurpose a hundred kitchen containers to catch the flood, the persistent dripping would continue to echo the unspoken worries. Enough to drive anybody mad with the promise of overflow, of nearing a point of no return, a snapping point.

Problems keep materializing out of thin air, new cracks being torn across the ceiling, water dripping less sporadically, more consistently. Namjoon's having a hard time keeping the tally, though he doesn't let it show past the long hours he subjects his body to.

He justifies the severe degree of self-sacrifice and self-discipline with the generalization that such is the life of a small business owner. His grandparents, when at their prime, had made it seem almost easy.

It's been rough attempting to fill in their shoes over the past couple of years. Namjoon can't get over the feeling that he's drowning all the time.

He wonders if it'll always feel like this. If there will ever come a point where he could recline with a long-held exhale of relief, long enough to take in the progress made before diving back to tune-up the fine details.

Norah, who is significantly more discreet than Jimin, disguises her phone with her half-opened hardcover book. Though, it should be said, that in preoccupying herself with the perfect cover-up, she’s neglected the fact that her phone is not muted.

She cringes at the click of a captured image, slides down her phone along the textured surface of page 122, to collect on her lap. Shrinks into herself and apologetically bows her head in Jimin’s direction. Today, she could be the sole reason the operation blows.

Making a quick adjustment in correction, she places pressure on the metal button along the frame of her phone. The device's vibration is muffled on her lap.

But it's too late to salvage the situation.

Namjoon's head is turned her way. His analytical gaze narrows on her figure.

She turns a page, making note she'll have to go back to actually read its contents much later, when her ears aren't burning, her mind not racing.

Momentarily peering up over the frame of the book, she realizes Namjoon's gaze has laxed and lifted to look over her figure. It then rounds across the diner, sliding swiftly over vacant tables and unclaimed stools.

He stalls over Jimin, who's drawing circles over the spotless surface of a table with a tattered rag. Admittedly, the rag's in poorer condition than the table.

Namjoon's eyes narrow for a second before he averts his attention back to the task at hand - attempting to open a shipment box without slicing his fingers with the carton-cutter blade.

Nearing closing time, upon completing inventory, Norah's loading a cardboard box into a crowded storage closet. A skinny, crammed little thing with enough shelves to be repurposed for climbing like a ladder.

Her hands slowly retract around the edges of the box. She gently and measuredly presses her weight against the better half that still protrudes off the shelf, thrusts her hips once, twice, until it it shoves into place with a sigh.

Once secured, she claps her hands to rid them of gathered dust and backsteps out of the closet, all the while, maintaining her gaze fixated on its silhouette, cautious and apprehensive.

Barely blinking, her brows furrow with worry as she imagines her efforts collapsing forward onto the tiles, the contents of the box exploding. Pictures how that single disturbance could potentially bring down the rest of the crowded shelves toppling over her.

She makes herself small under the imagined outcome, rounds her shoulders into a make-shift shield, just in case.

Though her backsteps are light and delicate, she clumsily collides with something solid.

The sudden contact causes her to flinch and further shrink in on herself. Her eyes, now, though squinted half-shut from the surprise, remain cast on the wobbly shelf. The snagged and rusted nails holding it together.

Repeatedly, mantra-like, she whispers, pleads "Stay, stay, stay..."

Suspecting she'd made an error in her stepping, but without turning to confirm, she glides her booted foot towards the right and gradually shifts her weight over it, continues to retreat, but again collides with an opposing force. It's no longer startling, more of a source of great frustration.

Her suspicion grows at the coincidence of striking the force once more, and that's when her mental focus on the shelf wanes long enough for her to grow aware of the characteristically animate warmth flanking her.

A warm breath makes itself known on her nape, the way morning mist hovers glass blades during dawn. Only less graceful. It sputters.

Hurriedly, she swivels to find Jimin dissolving into a snicker, cheeks flushed rosy, the way she would envision a mischievous cherub. Love incarnate.

In this intimate proximity, her focus starts to blur. She no longer holds the image of the toppling shelves center focus, rather it obscures and falls out of frame. Replacing it are his lips, plump, round, bottom-favoring, which her gaze sporadically flutters back and forth from.

With a face commanded with startle, brows rounded and raised, eyes widened, she retreats back into the closet she'd originally been trying to escape from.

Contrarily, Jimin encroaches. He's fluid and swift, as he always is. The way he makes any interaction into choreography, contemporary lyricism. While she's solid and stiff like stone, he can't bear to be more opposite.

It seems a bit contradictory, but water holds a natural power over stone. With enough exposure, it starts to erode, to cave, to part.

Norah's frightened he's too similar to water. Too fluid. That she's eroding under his influence. It sends alarms blaring loudly within her. Abort. Flee. Escape.

Jimin lightly places a graze on her torso, in a way that's meant to reassure, and comfort, and somehow gauge a response all at once.

His gaze dances between her wide eyes, further gauging as he shuts the door behind him, albeit with a lack of gentleness compared to the way he holds her.

Norah flinches as though the slam physically hurts her when its brunt echo rattles the shelves immediately behind her and distresses dormant dust above.

It falls over her like snow.

Briefly, Jimin becomes captivated by the sight. The flurry specks dancing in the cone of light of the single bulb hanging overhead. Cascading and collecting on the top of her head.

Her round watchful eyes cast upwards at him.

The absolute privacy offered by the space. The knowledge that he'd only need to take one stride forward to be flushed against her.

It's brief, the moment, abruptly interrupted by the croak of her voice "What are you doing here?"

He clears his throat, moment gone, and digs something out of the pocket of his black apron.

An envelope.

"I did something bad."

"What? How bad?"

"It depends," he shrugs slowly, not very convincing of his innocence in the matter. Really resembles a turtle secluding into its hard shell. He wouldn't feel the need to hide if he didn't doubt his character in the moment. If he didn't suspect a scolding. "From some perspectives, it's bad, from others it's good. So I guess it depends on how you look at it."

"And, just what perspectives are those?"

"Bad-" The envelope tucked between his arm and torso, he mimics the plates of a weight-scale, cupping air in both hands on either side. He tips their height as he speaks. "- for the Namjoon that's self-sufficient and oblivious to our plan. Good - for the Namjoon who secretly wants - needs - help but can't bring himself to ask."

She holds out her hands expectantly. Attempts to assess the damage.

He places the envelope in her hold. Its face sports elegant cursive. A flower-pattern stamp on its upper corner. Exudes an aroma of lilies and something sweet like pastries. Its hem has been cleanly sliced through.

Hurriedly, as if their minutes of privacy are counted, she unfolds a letter through the cleanly sliced margin atop the envelope. Her eyes race across the page. "This is bad, Jimin."

"It's bad?" He braces a hand on his hip, feeling the sudden-onset of queasiness with the knife of guilt twisting further into his gut. "So bad-bad? As in bad from all perspectives?"

She nods, but continues to skim the writing.

"Ah, shit." He rakes his other hand through his hair, tossing it out of his sight and coming it back. "I only stepped into his office for the keys to lock the back door. I caught sight of it. My hands were on it before I could will myself against it. I couldn't put it back down, tormented with curiosity."

"Well, you should've." Concluded, she folds the letter back on its creases, stuffs it back into the snug envelope.

"That's when I heard him approach, so I panicked. When he opened the door, I stuffed it into my pocket - pure instinct - so that he wouldn't see me holding it and suspect something."

He means to pace, but the space is limited. Instead, he braces both arms against a shelf. Needs to feel reminded of something sturdy, stable, lest he hurl.

"I meant to return it, I really did. The longer I held it, I just couldn't help but think how useful it could be to know what's inside. A means to ensure both ends of communication coincide. To make sure the staged Namjoon social media discussions aren't mentioned in the letters. To...to...-" He's stammering for justifications but falling short. "Knowing what sort of things they talk about could make our play of him more like the real thing, right?"

Norah shuts her eyes and hangs her head, arms limp by her sides. "You have to dispose of it. He can never find out." She hates to rob Namjoon of the contents he likely never got to read. Hates to make this a ripped page of their love-story.

"But, why?" He turns to face her. "I could just shove it beneath the stack he keeps atop his desk."

"Namjoon rarely sponsors the impractical." Her eyes flutter open. She traces the sliced margin for punctuation. "He uses his nimble fingers to slice through his envelopes. He's haphazard, like that. Thinks it more genuine, more lived. Thinks it impractical to invest in a piece of metal whose sole purpose is to slice paper, only to misplace it when he knows he could just pop a kitchen drawer open and find the same thing, or use his fingers."

"He might not notice," he's dubious to her argument. "He's got enough things on his mind to not notice."

"Do you really want to take the chance?"

He resumes his squared position against the shelf. Feels a dense lump materialize in his throat. Tries to swallow it back, expecting the nausea to wane.

Norah voices his conscience, "We are playing with hearts here. Are you sure you want to continue?"

She can voice her loud opinion all she wants in a bid to sway him towards a desirable response, but she doesn't. She vows to be his willing accomplice.

The thing is that Jimin is more similar to Namjoon than either care to recognize. They are both over-workers with too much piled over their plates to notice the grapes that roll off the edges, bouncing on the floor by their dashing feet.

Jimin wants to find Namjoon someone to lean on.

Norah wants to be that for Jimin. It's not a spoken thing. Frankly, it might not even be that obvious to Norah herself. She just finds herself tangled up with him in the self-made chaos. Finds it good reason enough for it to be for him.

"I mean good, Nor. I really do."

"I know you do. It's just a dangerous game we’re playing. I want you to be conscious of that."

"I am."

As a consequence of being a college drop-out, who stayed complacent in his small hometown, and knocked up the first girl he ever developed feelings for, Jimin juggles two jobs on the regular, a means to an end, to adjoin paychecks with the demands of life.

He'd juggle three if sleep weren't collecting interest, indebting him at an exponential rate.

The kind of fatigue that has no decency in waiting until your face collides with the cool pillow at night. The kind that commands and gets what its due whenever, wherever, however.

Mondays through Thursdays he works at Halley's, then rushes home to spend quality time with his daughter, run groceries, comply with the daily upkeep of home and its chores.

On the weekends, when he gets off Halley's - around 5 PM - he boards the public shuttle to bartend at a local bar. That bar shift runs until midnight, sometimes later, depending on the need for coverage, and the willingness to sacrifice a couple hours of sleep for a healthy tip.

Tonight, he's heavy with fatigue, sleep debt compounded in his brain, slowing the traffic of thoughts, comprehension. Still, he doesn't let it show past the obvious taxes on his physique - sunken dark circles beneath the eyes, small capillaries angered against their whites.

He sighs, "Hey," mirroring Norah's greeting from across the apartment. Locks the door behind him with a symphony of clicks and strolls her way in a practiced sequence.

In a way that resembles a paper being folded by the grooves and creases into origami, the edges of his mouth fold into a kind, but tired smile. The kind of paper that's been folded enough times to near tearing at the next crease.

Norah's hands are steady and delicate, as is her tone. "Tired?"

"I'm ok." He always says that, though, and always drifts into deep sleep right next to her on the couch, laptop still laid on his lap.

"Should we call it a day? We can always raincheck."

"It's nothing a shower can't fix." He shakes his head, hair stirring over dim eyes. A sudden yawn commands his mouth.

Unfolding her legs and draping them over the edge of couch, she starts up. "I'll start whipping something up to keep us awake."

As she clicks the switch of the kitchen lights, and bathes in the sudden flash of illuminance, she hears the thud of Jimin's knees against the wood floor accompanied with a long-drawn sigh, "My baby Byeol."

He flushes the bridge of his nose against the plump cheek of the baby. Inhales the untarnished scent of youth, of purity, of her hypoallergenic bodywash.

He realizes he'd been wrong earlier.

A shower wouldn't fix anything, but this, this little creature could dismiss all the ache in his joints, lax all the tension held in his muscles.

"You finish that set of monarch earrings?" Jimin tosses a towel over his head, grips at the frayed ends on his nape, on his forehead, extracting excess moisture. The excited drops splatter onto the collar of his sweatshirt.

Norah lays Byeol into her crib. Combs the silky, floss-like hair at the top of her head. Grabs a baby monitor radio from the adjacent nightstand.

"Most of it-" she bites a yawn." Only need to take pictures and edit them for upload."

A sudden pop emanates from his knees as soon as Jimin crouches by the coffee table of his living room. The wooden face of it is superimposed by clutter - Byeol’s enrichment toys, baby bottles, two different sets of binkies, unopened mail, uncategorized purchase receipts and jewelry beads.

Norah joins him, resting her weight on knees that will quickly grow sore. Starts picking at the clutter, shrinking it item by item, starting with her jewelry-making kit.

The click of the colored bead collapsing into its plastic compartment resounds through the quiet space. It grows dense, shies away from echoing, the more beads are added.

Jimin tears an envelope and is reminded of the day’s earlier events. Of prying open the private exchanges of Namjoon and his pen-pal girl. Parallels, only he’s not as ginger with his water bill as he was with his friend’s heart. Instead of slicing it thinly with a blade, he digs one finger into the cleft on the edge and rips haphazardly, mentally guessing how high it’ll be this month.

He’s got his brows creased into a pinch that resembles the one at the collar of his laundered shirt. He’d always ensure to prioritize keeping up with laundry, the same could not be said about folding and sorting the laundry. Too much like Sisyphus's burden. Instead, he’d let the laundry pile on the drying racks.

They’d be stale and stiff by the time he got around to claiming them. But at least they no longer reeked.

Lips into a robust pout, his eyes skim the content of the letter. Quickly, urgently, not bothering to hone in on the formal headers. They land on the end of the page resolutely. He holds the amount in his vision for a second, two, shuts his eyes with the raise of his brows, and folds down the letter like an accordion. Insert it back into its envelope.

His figure is cast in the indiscreet yellow light from the ceiling fixation. It pours over him like honey. Its shadows casted onto the sunken spaces of his under eyes.There’s a flurry of freckles over the bridge of his nose. Partly from age, partly from the sun, and partly genetic in origin.

Though tired, his hands are steady while collecting and assorting beads. Helping her with the burden.

They huddle up on the couch once things are assorted into semi-coherent piles on the coffee table.

Norah made iced lattes to power through. From prior experience, she knows the high will only last until about 3:30 AM, which isn't too far off. So if they want to make any progress on this Namjoon operation, they have to hone in focus. Short bursts of significant productivity.

It's hard to, though, when sleep seems so much more enticing. When Jimin's warmly pressed into her side. When all she wants is to rest her head on his shoulder and let her eyelids droop.

Moisture clings to the pads of Jimin's stubby fingers from having held his drink. He mindlessly wipes them onto his shirt. Resumes impatiently pressing keys on the old laptop, attempting to start it up from the depths of inactivity.

Its every inch is covered with stickers and logos accumulated through the years. Within ten minutes, it starts to burn Jimin's lap.

He positions a cushion beneath it to remedy the problem, just as the loading circle disappears and the screen finally illuminates with the home screen.

Opening a search engine, he navigates to Instagram. Namjoon's new social profile. He'd hurl if he came to know, having been against the capitalist agenda shoved down throats by brands and trends there.

Ironically, he's a part of that capitalist economy. Makes a living off convincing people to purchase his (food) service. But he'd argue he's in the business of selling an experience, of cultivating memories, not in the greedy selling of an overpriced product.

Maybe the diner would be better off if he would only bend down, comply with the trends of the modern day, learn the language of the 21st century.

"But that's exactly what I want to gift people," he'd say, caught in the passion of his mission, eyes glassed over and distant. "Nostalgia. Pre-internet innocence. The antiquity of a used book in your hands, the texture of the stained parchment. The raw sound of a record on a turntable. The crackle of the jukebox as soon as the coin descends into its slot. Something they can only experience and live, not fabricate on their phones."

As the puppet masters, Jimin and Norah's jobs are to funnel the connection between Namjoon and his mystery girl. Act like catalysts for something that's been building at a a snail's pace over the course of months through letters. Though romantic, indirect and impractical, so Jimin views it.

He'd attempt to establish a connection with mystery girl via direct messages. Arrange for a date where her only job is to show up. Namjoon would be there, oblivious. He hasn't quite figured out the specifics of it like how exactly he'd manage to declaw Namjoon from his busy schedule long enough to take time for himself, for being idle, for exploring the town. Or how he'd keep him from turning around after catching on to the situation.

"We'll cross that bridge once we get there."

"What do we do tonight, then?" Norah sips her drink. Places it back on the ring of moisture on the coffee table. It's starting to take effect. A heat unfurling and holding in her chest, quickening her pulse. Thoughts materializing in her mind faster than she can keep track of the streams of reason.

"We start uploading the pictures we've taken of him. Make his profile believable. But not all at once because then it would seem too much like a spam account."

"This may sound entirely evil and conniving, but what if we upload a quote from the book they mentioned in the letter you tore-"

He gawks.

"You know what you did," she scolds him with a stern look that makes him shift his attention back onto the screen.

"For someone who holds herself on a high moral horse, you sure seem experienced. Hidden mastermind in there, huh?"

"Respecting your friend's privacy is not high morality. It's basic knowledge." She flicks his forehead with her middle finger.

"Alright!" he throws his head back against the couch. It rebounds lightly against the cushion. He'll never live that down. "I fucked up. I shouldn't have even stepped into the office. I should have left the back door open for anyone to sneak in."

Baby Byeol's fast asleep on the monitor propped up on the table across from the couch. Chest rising and falling in a steady but swift pace. Tiny little set of lungs working hard through the night.

The coffee is now more parts water than caffeine or milk. The contents diluted by melted ice. They'd meant to finish it, just as they'd meant to upload at least two posts, but their eyelids had grown leaden with slumber.

Norah had spiraled down a rabbit hole on the internet trying to find the perfect book quote to caption the first post.

Jimin's wrist had grown sore flexed over the keyboard. His lap had become sensitive to the heat of the cushion and the ancient machine. He'd repositioned it onto the seat beside him and their necks started to hurt instead.

Now it's possibly the darkest hour of night. The pitch-black stillness caught between dusk and dawn. Not a single sound of the activity of civilization making itself known, not even a stray car whirring outside the front windows.

Only the soft breath of Jimin on Norah's cheek.

Dimming the brightness on her phone, she confirms the time she'd suspected. Attempts to stir out of his hold without interrupting his sleep. She has to her benefit the fact that he's a deep sleeper, and that sleep's collecting its debt.

Just as she thinks she's about to get away, slip out the front door with the swiftness of a night-cloaked thief, there comes a gentle tug at her wrist.

"Stay," Jimin's voice croaks, all groggy and thick with rest. "It's too dark. Too late. Sleep here."

"That will be the third night this week. I need to visit home. Shower."

He stirs, propping his weight onto his elbow to make sure he doesn't let his eyes drift shut before he convinces her to stay. Sure, this conversation might seem hazy like a dream, ambiguous as to whether its real, but he won't take the risk of her leaving so late. "There's a bathroom here. Steal clothes from my closet. Just stay. Home will be there tomorrow."

Something in her stirs. Something about this exchange makes her think otherwise.

Home's here.

Home's him.

"Fine." She drops her bag from her shoulder.

Jimin smiles, eyes closed.

Slides off the couch. Sleep-drunk, he stumbles down the corridor leading to his bedroom. Norah follows.

He takes the opportunity to lean down and check on Byeol. An angel cast in the moonglow streaking in through the windows.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ i'm not entirely convinced with the last third of this chapter. might come back later and change alot of it but for now it is this or nothing.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ if you're a oth girly, and if you care to know, i realize jimin and norah's actions are reminiscent of brooke setting peyton up on lustfactor in S2 and i think it's hilarious that oth is bleeding into my subconscious from how much i rewatch it

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ shoutout to that clever army that once pointed out how jimin was made out of love and not a quick nut. sista, you were speaking facts!

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ the ode to jimin continues >>

0 notes

sleekervae · 11 months ago

Text

So Good [0.6]

Masterlist

pairing: KNJ x rockstar!oc

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry I've been away for a while. School is bogging me down and life had been wild, in both good and bad ways. I want to continue writing and despite my chronic writers' block, I ain't giving up too easily. Thank you all for your patience and trust that I will be updating more stories as I go!

word count: 2016

Purple text is Korean

Kimberly jumped when her phone suddenly rang beside her, disturbing the small nap she was trying to squeeze in her bunk. She grumbled as she turned over in the small enclosure, feeling around in the sheet while being rocked over and over in the tour bus.

"Kimberly! Your phone's ringing!" Maria suddenly shouted.

Kimberly rolled her eyes, "Gee! Thanks Maria!" finally she was able to fish it out, her heart leapt when Namjoon's name flashed across her screen. It would've been close to midnight in Seoul, and he hardly ever called her this late.

Pulling her bunk curtain tighter to its hook, she answered the call, "Hello?"

A voice cleared from the other end, unfamiliar to her, "H-Hey, Kimberly! How are you?" the voice was slurred, too light to be Namjoon but the twinge of his accent was slightly eerie.

"Um... who is this?" she asked, a pit of anxiousness bubbling in her gut. From what Chloe had told her, Korean idols had their contacts guarded mercilessly, and if Namjoon got in trouble for talking to her...

"Eh? It's Namjoon, what're you talking about?" the voice tittered, a faint song playing in the background. She relaxed only a little, her curiosity growing.

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"... what tattoo do I have on my left forearm?" she asked.

The voice paused momentarily, grumbling to himself for a quick answer when she suddenly heard a more familiar exclamation.

" -- Dangsin-eun mwo haeyo? Nae jeonhwagileul jwo!"

The voice on the speaker suddenly changed in pitch, half-laughing-half-crying as he shouted, "Joesonghabnida! Joesonghabnida! Dowajuseyo!" and a scuffle ensued.

Kimberly was partly amused, partly concerned, waiting curiously until she heard Namjoon panting into the speaker, "I saekkiya! -- Kimberly? Kim?"

"H-Hi! Namjoon?"

"Hi," he panted, giving a short sigh, "I am so sorry about that,"

"No, no, that's okay," she chuckled, "Are you okay?"

"I'm good, I'm good. My friend's being an idiot," he replied. Kimberly could still hear laughter in the background, she found his startle quite endearing.

"It's okay, I promise," she replied, "Who was that, anyway?"

"Jackson. He's a friend of mine -- if not more of a shit disturber," he replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Kimberly!" he called out. Namjoon grumbled back in Korean, a cuss word she figured.

She laughed merrily, "Aw, tell him I say 'hi',"

"And boost his ego even more? Nah," he simpered back, "I hope we didn't disrupt anything,"

"You're all good," she assured him, "We're on our way to Krakow right now so we have an off day,"

"Oh, fantastic. Are you resting up?"

"As much as I can in a moving casket," her attention diverted to a furious hissing from the common area.

"Shit! I need help!" Chloe suddenly shouted, followed by the pattering of socked feet.

"Fucking shit, Chlo! We agreed not to heat up Alfredo sauce in the microwave!" Charlotte scolded.

Namjoon laughed, hearing the commotion from the end of his speaker, "Everything okay over there?" he asked.

Kimberly sighed heavily, shaking her head, "Oh, everything's fine. If I'm quiet enough they may believe I've gone back to sleep and won't bother me," she chuckled quietly.

Maria called from outside the bunk, "You know we can hear you, Kim!" she scolded, "... Hi Namjoon!"

"Hi Namjoon!" Charlotte echoed a moment later.

"Hi RM!" shouted Chloe.

Kimberly tittered, "The girls say 'hi',"

"Tell 'em I say 'hi' back -- what?" his voice drifted off, "Of course she is! Yeogiseo naga!" and there was another short scuffle over the speaker.

"What is going on over there?" Kimberly asked, her curiosity peeking, just imagining what bafoonery was taking place in Seoul.

Namjoon sighed, clearly dejected as muffled sniggers slipped out beside him, "Jackson wants to know if you're pretty. I'm so sorry,"

Kimberly had to press her lips to keep herself from laughing, her cheeks burning with the red smile curling across her face. She choked back a giggle as she answered, "I mean -- I think I am," she shrugged bashfully.

"Then what the hell are you doing with a guy like Namjoon?" Jackson suddenly called, laughing then as Kimberly could imagine the glare Namjoon was throwing his way.

"Ib damul-eo," Namjoon grumbled.

"Dangsin-eun nae sangsaga aniya," Jackson scolded back.

Meanwhile out in the common area, Charlotte and Chloe couldn't help but overhear Kimberly's conversation, all the while Charlotte was mopping up sauce on the counter and Chloe was cleaning sauce off of the floor.

"I think she talks to him more than talks to any of us," Chloe noted.

Charlotte simpered, "They talk maybe once or twice a week, Chloe,"

"Over voice, at least," Chloe replied, "... You think Darius knows that they talk that much?"

"I'm not even gonna go there," Charlotte replied, hoping that Kimberly couldn't hear them, "I told her to be careful from the get,"

Chloe shrugged back, "I'm just saying -- if Luke was away and you found out he was talking to a super famous pop star a few times a week, wouldn't you be worried?"

Charlotte held pause, staring down at the greasy countertop as Chloe's words sent a shiver through her. She knew exactly how she would feel if she was in a similar situation. Nevertheless, she turned back to Chloe, mustering as much confidence as she could.

"As far as I know, Kim's not doing anything wrong -- so I'm not gonna' lambast her for what we think could be happening,"

Chloe knew Charlotte didn't like confrontation, she never had and was extremely uncomfortable if she had to confront one of their friends. But Chloe wasn't stupid either; she was fearful that Kimberly was falling down a hole she nor the girls couldn't dig her out from.

Kimberly meanwhile was none the wiser to her friends' conversation, "What're you guys doing?"

"We're just sitting around, having a couple beers," he replied.

"With the other guys?" she asked.

"Nah, they're out doing their own thing tonight. Believe it or not, we don't always spend all our time together," he chuckled, hoping on the off chance he didn't sound condescending.

"Fair. Spend too much time with someone, some heads are gonna roll," Kimberly replied, then she brought her voice to a whisper, "Hence I'm hiding in my bunk so I don't have to deal with the Alfredo sauce from hell,"

Chloe suddenly hollered out, "I heard that Kimberly! Stop flirting with Namjoon and come help me!"

Kimberly rolled her eyes, pulling back the curtain and sticking her head out of her bunk, "We're not flirting!" she called back.

Charlotte sighed after, crouched down over a messy spill on the floor. A zesty, garlicky smell was beginning to fill the bus, "We just need a mop," she muttered, "Maria! Open the window in the back!"

"Already on it!" and Maria hopped out of her bunk.

Kimberly huffed, though Namjoon chuckled from the other end, "I take it you gotta go?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry," she replied.

"Don't be sorry. It's Jackson's fault, anyway," she could hear Jackson snap something back in Korean, much to her amusement.

"It's always a pleasure talking to you, don't be silly," she simpered, "I'll talk to you later, go have fun!"

Namjoon said his goodbyes and hung up the phone, his eyes lingering at his lock screen a moment more. Jackson meanwhile continued to sit and smirk up at his friend, much to Namjoon's annoyance.

"What are you smirking at?" he asked as he sat down, "And how did you know my passcode?"

"Don't be mad because I know your mom's birthday," he replied, "How long have you been talking to Kimberly?"

"A few months. She's nice," Namjoon muttered quickly.

Jackson scoffed, "So was Lim Ju-eun, she seemed very nice in your old posters,"

"Oh, leave me alone," Namjoon elbowed him softly, "She's my friend, nothing more,"

"I believe you," Jackson nodded, "I also believe that if you had the opportunity to date, you would snap her up in a minute,"

"She has a boyfriend, anyway," Namjoon pointed out.

Jackson sighed, "But none of that's not stopping her from rattling around in your brain all the time,"

Namjoon rolled his eyes, deciding to reach for another beer off the table, "Jackson, whatever you're about to say, just leave it alone,"

"I'm not trying to tease you, Joon," he said, his demeanour shifting to a serious undertone, "I'm worried for you,"

"Why are you worried for me?"

"Because you're falling for somebody you clearly can't have, and if that affects your performance --"

"It's not going to affect my performance, or my duties," Namjoon assured, "I told Jin and the others; Kimberly is my friend and any affection I have for her -- or for anyone -- isn't a priority. You would do the same if it was you,"

Jackson shrugged back, his gaze averting off, "I used to think that way..." he muttered.

Namjoon cocked a brow, staring long and hard at Jackson, "Hold on -- did you meet somebody?" he asked curiously.

Jackson nodded slowly, "You can't tell the other guys,"

"I won't," Namjoon assured him.

"Haneul -- or Hannah, I guess. I met her last year, she's a student at Yonsei, and we both went to the same restaurant for lunch," he explained.

"-- Have you spoken to her?" Namjoon asked.

"A couple of times. She's a little mean at first, she absolutely hates k-pop music" he chuckled, "But the more I got to know her, the more I really came to like her. And I think she came to like me, too," the way he spoke was so wistful, words grasping for the moment as though it had just happened. Namjoon had never seen Jackson so sentimental before, he hardly ever discussed his personal life like. They were both a lot alike in that rhetoric.

"So, what happened?" Namjoon asked, feeling the 'but' of his story creeping like a stark chill.

Jackson shrugged listlessly, "I had to let her go. I knew I couldn't have her, and it wasn't fair to make her wait for God knows how long until I could renegotiate my contract," he replied, "She said she understood, but I think I fuelled her hatred of this industry even more. She hasn't replied when I tried to check in with her, I know she probably needs so space to heal but... it sucks,"

Namjoon nodded slowly, "But you still think about her?"

"More than I would like," Jackson admitted, "I had a lapse in judgement; and I know I did the right thing in the long term, but I can't help but feel I wasted her time. I never should've gotten involved with her in the first place," he turned back to Namjoon, "My point is that I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. As much as it paints me to admit, BTS is quickly becoming a global sensation and you can't afford to have your heart broken over someone you know you can't have. Don't get attached, you have to keep your focus,"

"I am focused," Namjoon assured him, "Kimberly is just my friend, and I am gonna make sure we do what we need to do to keep us all on track," he then placed his hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving him a small squeeze, "... That doesn't mean I can't feel for your situation,"

Jackson simpered, popping the beer can open and taking a swig, "It's better this way for us. Maybe one day it'll be different, but for now..." he shook his head, "We're stuck with each other,"

Namjoon took his own can and clinked with Jackson's, "I'll cheers to that," and he took a swig. His gaze shifted again to his forearm, remembering the pressure of the pen, the swift and sharp markings when Kimberly scribbled her number on his skin. He wasn't sure why he was so full of hope back then, blinded momentarily for what could have been though he knew fully well he could never have her. Jackson was right, he had to detach himself before she consumed him, or worse he consumed her and broke her heart.

After all, April was right around the corner...

16 notes · View notes

voyter · 2 months ago

Text

CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.

word count. 5.4k words warnings. jk and oc have matching costumes. vmin being the kings of halloween parties. slight crack. smut. roleplay dynamics. light bondage (handcuffs). oral (fem!receiving). handjob. unprotected sex (be safe girlies). switch!jungkook. switch!reader.

ana's notes. happy (late) halloween !!! this was originally supposed to be posted on the 30th but it wasnt finished .. so i was going to post it on actual halloween day but i got busy LMFAO IM A MESS !!! initially i wanted to do a kinktober but my ass couldnt even keep up with this so AINT NO WAYYY LMFAO IDK HOW YALL DO IT. BUT DONT FEAR ITS HERE NOW !! i had sm fun writing this, hope you love it as much as i do !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

For the past three years, Jimin and Taehyung have hosted their annual Halloween party. It's the one event they take seriously, spending hours planning the perfect invite list, décor, and food. Friends and acquaintances eagerly anticipate the night, knowing it'll be full of unforgettable moments, laughter, and chaos. Jimin and Taehyung always go all out, making their Halloween gathering the event of the season.

You and Jungkook have a tradition of matching costumes. The first year, you went as Harley Quinn, and Jungkook went as the Joker. That one's still one of your favorites — especially with Jungkook's green hair and tatted up face. He looked so good that night. The second year, you went for something bloodier: you, a sexy victim, and Jungkook as Ghostface. It was thrilling, especially when he made the night even better by fucking you with the mask still on. By the third year, you went classic as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off your tits spilling out of your corset. This year, you decided to skip the fictional characters and go with something a little simpler — but still hot. You were dressed as a cop, or rather, a slutty cop, and Jungkook was the prisoner.

"Don't you think this is a little basic?"

“Do you know how many people I’ve seen at these parties dressed as vampires and cats?” you retort, adjusting your costume and checking yourself out in the mirror. “Trust me, baby, no one cares.”

Jungkook, clad in an orange jumpsuit, glares at you through the mirror. "I just hate orange," he says monotonously.

You turn around and face him, giving him a smirk. "You'll survive. Besides, you make anything look good."

He smirks, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your arms snake around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. His hands roam from your waist to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms, pulling you closer. But just as things start to heat up, you push him back with a playful grin.

"Not now," you say, breathlessly. "We have to be there in a few."

Jungkook huffs in frustration, but doesn't argue. And even though he's not thrilled about his costume, the way his gaze darkens tells you he's already imagining what's to come later tonight. He knows he'll get you out of that outfit later.

When you and Jungkook walk into the party, it’s all familiar faces. Laughter and cheers erupt the moment they spot you two, with Jungkook’s arms handcuffed behind his back, the bright orange of his jumpsuit standing out in the crowd. You guide him confidently by gripping his arm, playing the role of the stern cop escorting her prisoner.

Jungkook looks equal parts annoyed and amused, his usual cocky attitude momentarily restrained by the handcuffs, though the way his lips twitch hints at his playful frustration. The room seems to buzz with energy as people start teasing him the moment you step through the door.

“No fucking way you agreed to this!” Jimin exclaims, eyes wide in disbelief as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in handcuffs. Without missing a beat, he grabs the camera hanging around his neck, the polaroid already set and ready to capture every costume of the night. “Oh, I have to take a picture of this. Tae, hold my drink!”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin thrusts his red solo cup into Taehyung’s chest, some of the liquid sloshing out and soaking into Taehyung’s blazer. Tae rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain, knowing this is typical Jimin behavior.

Jimin hurriedly pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and pulls out the polaroid camera, eyes gleaming with excitement as he positions himself in front of you. You smirk, grabbing your belt, keeping your expression serious like a true cop on duty. Jungkook plays along, tilting his head to the side with a playful pout, his lips pursed like he’s posing for a dramatic mugshot.

With a click, the camera flashes, capturing the moment perfectly. A second later, the familiar buzz of the camera sounds as the polaroid slowly rises from the slot at the top. Jimin pulls the photo out, shaking it lightly as the image begins to develop.

“Had no choice,” Jungkook grumbles. “Whatever girlfriend wants, girlfriend gets.”

Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “Bro, you’re so fucking whipped,” he teases.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mutters, though he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “What are you two supposed to be, anyway?”

Jimin looks genuinely offended at the question, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes as if that alone should make it obvious. “Hello? Men in Black!”

He points his plastic gun at Jungkook. Beside him, Taehyung pulls out a shiny MIB card.

“Aw, I was really hoping you two would take my advice and go as Dumb and Dumber,” you pout, crossing your arms dramatically.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange offended looks, grimacing at your suggestion.

Jimin puts his plastic gun back in its holster with a flourish, shaking his head. “Respectfully, fuck you,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You playfully lift a hand as if to strike him, your expression mock serious. Just then, more people start to stream into the home, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

“Well, since we are so extremely popular, we’ll meet back up with you guys soon.” Jimin says, turning to Taehyung, “We’ve got more people to greet.”

“Don’t get freaky in any of the bedrooms! I swear on my life I will kill you both,” Taehyung exclaims, shooting a warning glance over his shoulder as he follows Jimin into the crowd.

You roll your eyes, amusement dancing in your gaze.

"Alright, baby, can you take the handcuffs off now, please?" Jungkook whines, eyebrows knitting in genuine discomfort. "My arms are starting to hurt in this position."

"Keep begging like that, maybe I will," you tease, enjoying the playful power dynamic between you two.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer to amp up the charm. "Oh, please, officer? I promise I'll be such a good boy,"

You scrunch your nose in exaggerated disapproval. "Never do that again," you reply, trying to sound serious but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting, as you turn him around, your fingers brushing against his wrists. The thrill of the moment sends a rush through you as you unlock the cuffs with the small key, the metal clinking softly as you release him.

He turns around, his hands sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer, the warmth of his body igniting a spark of electricity between you. You smile up at him, feeling a thrill at the proximity.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and playful. “Now who knows what kind of crimes I’m gonna commit again?” He looks down at you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Careful, prisoner,” you warn, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t forget, I’m watching you tonight.”

He holds his hands up in mock defense, a grin spreading across his face. “I promise to behave… for now,” he replies, the challenge in his tone clear as he leans in just a little closer.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, and despite your attempt to keep things light, the air feels charged with unspoken tension. “You’d better,” you say, trying to maintain an authoritative tone but failing as a smile breaks through. “I don’t take kindly to rule breakers.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “But I can’t help it if I’m naturally inclined to break the rules when I’m around you.” With that, he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers, “What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you step back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart racing. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, shaking your head, but your smile betrays your amusement.

“Only for you,” he quips, and the way he looks at you… you just know this Halloween night was going to be wild.

You stood corrected.

A few drinks into Jungkook's system, and any pretense of annoyance about the costume was long gone. His hands seemed to find your waist every chance they got, fingers tracing the curves of your hips with a needy grip. His lips, once teasing, were now constantly seeking yours, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips whenever you were within arm's reach.

Even in a crowded room, Jungkook's attention was locked on you, his dark gaze following your every movement. And each time you caught him staring, he'd flash you a cheeky grin before pulling you into another heated kiss, making it clear just how much he was enjoying your costume — and the power it had over him.

Getting a drunk Jungkook home was a damn task. The moment you got him in the car, he was all over you. As you navigated through the quiet streets, his fingers slid up your thigh, kneading it with a firm grip that sent sparks of heat racing through you. Each touch made focusing on the road harder, especially when he leaned over the console, his lips grazing your neck in a series of lazy, warm kisses.

"Jungkook, you need to calm down," you warned, trying to keep your focus on the road as his kisses sent shivers down your spine.

He huffed, not wanting to stop but eventually relented, throwing himself back into his seat dramatically. He crossed his arms like a child who'd been denied his favorite toy, his lips forming a deep pout.

You glanced over at him, biting back a smile as he sulked in his seat. "Aw, I’m sorry baby. Almost home, then you can do whatever you want," you teased, knowing full well that his patience would snap the second you both stepped through the front door.

Like a bunny, his ears seemed to perk up at your words, his pout disappearing instantly. He sat back in his seat with a huge grin plastered on his face, the sudden shift in his mood almost comical. It was as if he'd forgotten all about sulking, now fully focused on the promise you'd made.

Surprisingly, Jungkook behaved as you both got out of the car and made your way to your apartment floor. He walked beside you quietly, though the anticipation was clear in the way he kept glancing at you, his grin never fully fading. His restraint was impressive, given how wild he'd been earlier, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

The second you unlocked the door, though, all that restraint snapped. Jungkook practically pounced, pushing the door closed behind you as he pressed you against it, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. His hands were everywhere at once — grabbing your waist, pulling you closer, one hand sliding up your back while the other dipped dangerously low.

Your sloppy kisses didn't break for a second as you stumbled through the apartment, laughter and heated breaths filling the air until you reached the bedroom. The second you got to the edge of the bed, Jungkook gave you a playful shove, making you fall back onto the mattress with a grin tugging at his lips. His eyes never left yours as he hovered above you, reconnecting your lips in a feverish kiss, his hunger for you palpable.

His mouth began its slow descent, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, tingling path in its wake. When he reached your cleavage, he paused, his lips lingering there as his fingers found the zipper of your bodysuit. With a swift motion, he unzipped it, freeing your breasts from the fabric. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, a low groan escaping his throat.

Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation sent a shudder through your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your back arched in response. Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, gripping the soft strands, guiding him as he lavished attention on you.

Jungkook's mouth left your bud with a soft pop, his lips slightly swollen as he looked at you with a mix of desire and admiration. Without wasting a second, he pushed the rest of the bodysuit down your frame, his hands quick and eager as he stripped you of the remaining fabric.

“You seduce all the officers like this?” you tease, your voice light but laced with a hint of challenge as you looked down at him at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook paused for a second, momentarily confused by the question. But then it clicked, and when he realized you were still playing into the roleplay from earlier, his expression shifted. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, eyes narrowing slightly as he fully embraced the dynamic again.

“Only the ones I can’t resist,” Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with playful seduction.

His teasing words sent a shiver down your spine, the tension between you both thickening with every passing second. His hands moved with skilled precision as he unzipped your boots, tugging them off one by one. The boots were discarded carelessly, the clatter of them hitting the floor barely registering as Jungkook’s focus remained fixed on you, eyes dark and full of hunger.

With a firm grip, Jungkook tugged at the bodysuit, sliding it off your frame in one fluid motion, the fabric slipping away as easily as the last remnants of his restraint. He didn’t stop there — your fishnets followed quickly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. His gaze devoured you, his eyes darkening with each lingering second on your bare skin. He bit into his bottom lip, his excitement almost palpable as his eyes traced every curve of your body like he was committing each inch to memory.

Grabbing your ankle, he lifted your leg gently, a smirk playing on his lips as he began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses from your ankle up toward your inner thigh. Each kiss sent a jolt of heat through your body, his touch maddeningly slow, teasing you with every lingering press of his lips.

“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise, before kissing your thigh once more. “I did promise to make it worth your while.”

“Show me what you got, criminal,” you smirk, your voice laced with challenge and desire.

Jungkook’s smirk matched yours, his eyes darkening with intent as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding easily over your legs. The second they left your skin, his gaze fixed on the damp spot left behind, a low moan escaping his lips as his hunger for you deepened.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness left on the cloth before lifting his eyes to meet yours, his smirk widening. “Already so wet for me, officer.”

The playful teasing from earlier had melted away completely, replaced with raw, undeniable need. Without hesitation, Jungkook lowered himself between your legs, his breath hot against your inner thighs. His lips hovered just above your core, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time before he leaned in, determined to show you exactly what he had in store. His tongue made the first slow, deliberate pass over your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.

Your body reacted instinctively to the sensation, arching your back slightly as a soft moan escaped your lips. You melted into the bed, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as waves of pleasure rippled through you, the intensity of it all leaving you breathless.

It was when he latched his mouth onto your clit, the cool metal of his lip piercing sending shockwaves through your body, that you felt a fresh wave of ecstasy wash over you. Your body shook involuntarily, a reaction to the exquisite pleasure he was delivering.

“So good, baby,” you moaned, your voice breathy and filled with longing as you looked down at the man between your legs. Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and smoldering, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smirk as he enjoyed your reaction to his ministrations.

"Yeah?" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your slick heat, sending a shiver up your spine. "Am I a good criminal, officer?"

Though it had started as playful banter back at Jimin and Taehyung’s house, the way Jungkook was slipping into this submissive role now felt different — kind of sexy. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking up at you, it was doing things to you that you hadn’t quite expected.

You bit your lip, nodding as you reached down, finding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "Mhm, so good for me," you whispered, the words coming out more breathless than you intended. The shift in the dynamic added a new layer to the tension between you both, and you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

He hummed in satisfaction against your skin, his tongue working skillfully, each stroke more deliberate than the last, as if determined to draw every last sound of pleasure from your lips. You could feel the tension building within you, and with every flick and suck, he pushed you further into a state of bliss. The warmth of his mouth, combined with the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, only heightened the sensations coursing through your body. You could feel yourself unraveling, bit by bit, under his expert touch.

You lift your other hand, your fingers tangling in his soft, raven hair, pushing it back to reveal his forehead. The sight of his knitted eyebrows makes your stomach flip — he always does that when he’s savoring something, and right now, that something is you. Your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, and you can't help but buck your hips slightly, your body moving instinctively as you practically ride his face.

Your moans become louder, filling the room with the raw sound of pleasure, almost pornographic in intensity. The way his mouth moves against you, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing, drives you wild. You feel his moans vibrate against your sopping pussy, sending shockwaves through your entire body. The more you push him into you, the more he responds, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. You’re lost in the heat of the moment, each wave of pleasure building to something inevitable, your body teetering on the edge of bliss.

With one final buck of your hips, his nose pressing firmly against your clit, the pleasure overwhelms you. Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cum against his face. A loud, raw moan tears from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of your orgasm takes over. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest — if anything, it only drives him further.

He stays right there, nestled between your legs, his tongue continuing to lap up every drop of your release. If he had it his way, he'd happily stay there forever. His hand gently caresses your thighs, soothing you through the aftershocks as your body relaxes, your breathing still ragged as you come down from the high.

Jungkook removes his hand from yours gently, rising up from the floor. Fully clothed, he crawls up the bed, hovering above you with a smirk that sends a thrill down your spine. His mouth glistens with a mix of his saliva and your slick, a tantalizing reminder of what just transpired.

Without warning, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the intimacy of the moment amplifying the heat between you. You feel him grinding his hips into your heat, seeking relief for the ache in his cock, and it drives you wild. The friction ignites another wave of desire, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

He leans back down, reconnecting your lips, unable to get enough of you. The urgency in his movements tells you he's craving more, needing the connection as much as you do. Without breaking the kiss, you smoothly shift positions, pushing him back onto the bed. His body sinks into the mattress, and now it's your turn to be on top, looking down at him with a teasing smile. You sit up, fingers working the buttons of his jumpsuit as he watches you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Do good prisoners get anything in return?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"Yeah," you say with a smirk. "Freedom."

Your giggle fills the room as Jungkook kisses his teeth in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes at your cheeky response. Still, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, showing he's just as amused as you are.

"I'm sure there's other officers that'll give you something," you tease, your fingers still working on the jumpsuit.

"What if I want someone in particular?" he responds, his tone more serious, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," you murmur.

With a smirk, Jungkook sits up swiftly, his hands making quick work of pulling the jumpsuit off his frame. The fabric falls away, revealing his toned, broad chest — the very sight that always makes your breath hitch. You can't help but admire him for a moment, your eyes roaming over every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the way his abs tense under your gaze.

He catches the look in your eyes, his grin widening as he notices how you're practically staring. "Like what you see, officer?" he teases.

Ugh, slut.

"You know I do," you reply, your fingers tracing over the tattoos decorating his skin before you press your lips against his again, losing yourself in the kiss as your bodies draw closer.

Your kisses travel south, lips brushing over the warm skin of his neck, chest, and abs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When you kneel between his legs, you can't help but notice how hard he is. A wet spot glistens where he’d been grinding against you earlier, evidence of the friction that’s left you both desperate for more.

"Baby, hurry up," Jungkook whines, his voice thick with impatience, the need evident in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. "Refer to me correctly," you command, wanting to tease him just a little longer.

He chuckles softly. "Officer, please hurry up," he says, playing along, his words dripping with need.

“Good boy,” you coo with a smile.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his jumpsuit and boxers simultaneously, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock springs free, hard and eager, the pink tip glistening with precum. It’s begging to be touched, twitching slightly under your gaze as you admire him, and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You let your hand glide slowly up his thigh, teasing him with featherlight touches, savoring the way his muscles tense under your fingers. Jungkook's head falls back against the mattress, a low, desperate moan slipping from his lips as he exhales, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation building between you.

You giggle softly, enjoying how easily you’re driving him wild. Finally, you wrap your hand around his thick, hard cock, your fingers squeezing his length gently but firmly. His reaction is immediate — his hips buck slightly as he lets out a deep, shaky moan.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groans, his voice low and husky, the sound making you smile even wider.

You start to stroke him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him pulsing in your hand. His hands grip the sheets, knuckles turning white, and his eyes squeeze shut in bliss. The way he reacts to every little movement you make has you feeling powerful, completely in control.

"My pussy turn you on this much?" you tease, your voice dripping with playfulness, a smirk tugging at your lips as you continue to stroke him slowly, deliberately.

Jungkook's moan deepens, his hips bucking slightly into your hand, completely at your mercy.

"Always," he groans, his voice breathless. "Can never get enough of it."

Such a sweet boy. You reward him by quickening your strokes, picking up the pace and driving him wild. His response is immediate — his body tenses, and a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

Jungkook's hand darts to yours, gripping the one resting on his thigh, his fingers intertwining with yours tightly. His touch is needy, desperate, as if holding on to you will keep him grounded while the pleasure you’re giving him threatens to overwhelm him.

His breath becomes ragged as you continue working him expertly. He bites his lip, trying to hold himself together under your touch. You can tell he’s getting closer, every stroke pushing him toward the edge.

“W- wanna cum in your pussy, please,” Jungkook whines, his voice trembling with need.

You smirk, teasing him further. “Do you?”

He hums in response, the sound more like a moan, his desperation palpable.

“Okay,” you say, your voice soft but commanding. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pull away from his cock, climbing on top of him, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Leaning down, you capture his lips with yours, and he responds eagerly, his hands sliding down the arch of your back, gripping your ass tightly, kneading it in his large palms.

Then, without warning, a sudden surge of dominance overtakes him. In one swift move, Jungkook flips you both over, hovering above you with a glint in his eye. He gives you a teasing peck on the lips, but before you can react, he flips you onto your stomach, effortlessly manhandling you as though you weigh nothing.

With your back turned to him, the sound of rustling heightens your anticipation. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but the moment you feel his grip on your arm, your heart races. The cold, familiar touch of metal against your wrist makes it clear — he's handcuffing you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as he tightens the cuffs around your other wrist, pulling your arms behind your back. You’re completely at his mercy now, and the vulnerability only fuels the fire between your legs.

“Am I still a good boy?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

“Bad boy,” you manage to reply, though the excitement surging through you betrays your words. The restriction, the control — it all makes your pussy throb with need.

The sound of the slap reverberates through the room, sending a sharp sting of pleasure coursing through your body. You jolt forward, moaning in response, your skin tingling from the impact. Jungkook grabs the chain of the handcuffs, pulling on it slightly, adding a thrilling sense of restraint to the moment.

His other hand grabs his cock, and you feel the deliberate tease as he slaps it against your pussy, spreading your slickness over his length. It’s torturous — how long he’s making you wait. But finally, after what feels like an eternity, he slowly pushes himself inside you.

You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, while Jungkook releases a low, guttural groan, his breath catching at the sensation of being enveloped by your heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling, his fingers still gripping the handcuffs. The tension in the air is palpable, each movement sending shivers down your spine as he begins to move, his hips rocking into you with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Your breath comes out in heavy gasps, your face buried in the mattress as his pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with a steady rhythm. The sensation of being filled so completely has you whimpering, your body melting into the bed as you push back against him, craving more with every stroke. Each thrust is more intense than the last, the bed creaking beneath you as the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoes through the room.

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the handcuff chain, yanking you back harder onto his cock. “All your other prisoners fuck you this good?” he growls.

A smirk curls your lips. He’s still milking this roleplay. He doesn’t voice it out, but he feels your pussy clench around him. You like this.

“Only you,” you moan, your voice breathy.

“That’s right,” he groans, his tone low and possessive.

Jungkook's pace quickens, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing through the room, his thrusts relentless. The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall. He yanks the chain of the handcuffs harder, pulling your body back onto him in sync with every deep, punishing thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, your moans now uncontrollable as the pressure builds to an almost unbearable height. Every drive of his cock inside you sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, his roughness pushing you to the brink. His deep groans mix with your cries, the heat between you reaching its peak, and you can feel yourself getting closer, your climax just within reach.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice rough and low, dripping with lust. The heat in his tone sends another wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you can only nod, your voice caught in your throat as a moan escapes your lips, barely coherent.

His cock drags against your walls, hitting that perfect spot over and over, each thrust igniting a fire within you. Your body is a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as the pressure coils tighter and tighter inside you, building towards a breaking point.

“Come on then, baby,” he growls, pulling you back hard against him, his grip firm and possessive. “Be a good officer and cum. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yes! Yes! You deserve it so much!” you manage to reply, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer.

“I’m such a good boy for you, huh?” he presses, his breath hot against your ear, his hips driving deeper.

“Such a good boy, my baby,” you affirm, your voice trembling with need.

With a few more final, deep thrusts, your body shudders as the last waves of your sweet release ripple through you, your pussy clenching tightly around him. That tightness pushes Jungkook over the edge, and with a loud, needy moan, he releases into you, his hips faltering as he shoots his load deep inside. His groan fills the room as his cock throbs within you, emptying himself completely, the warmth of his cum spreading through you.

For a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air as your bodies stay connected.

Jungkook carefully unlocks the handcuffs, freeing your wrists from the restraints. He tosses them aside, his concern immediately turning to you as he notices the redness on your skin. Gently, he takes your wrists in his hands, massaging them softly, his brows furrowed with worry.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, his voice tender and full of concern.

“No, baby,” you reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, easing the tension he’s holding onto. You give him a few more sweet pecks, including one on his cheek, his boyish charm making you smile.

After cleaning up and peeing to avoid an infection, he helps you settle into bed, pulling you into his arms. His warmth envelops you, his face nestled against your neck, and you feel the soft brush of his breath against your skin. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, holding him close as the moment quiets. The heat from your bodies mingles with the gentle stillness of the room, creating a cocoon of intimacy and comfort that lulls you both toward sleep.

As your eyes grow heavy, his voice breaks the silence, low and a little playful. "I think I enjoyed that costume more than I thought," he murmurs against your neck.

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