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hisunshiine · 6 months ago

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Slight spoilers below!!

This story is really just amazingly creepy.

"Yoongi wasn’t exaggerating when he said you look good enough to eat tonight."

This is my...idek how many times reading this story, and it never fails to delight me in the creepiest of ways! The story flows seamlessly between the two main characters, an ebb and flow showing their movement of how the reader ends up in the position she is in once she finds herself in the middle of the maze.

The way that Yoongi thrives off of fear and disappointment and all of those negative feelings, while filling the reader with positive ones for the purpose of a heftier, more delicious and savory meal when she inevitably falls...it's so wrong but just...right.

I think I love the way that she feels safe with him at the start of the story, despite him being the cause of all of her fears come to life, and Leah does an amazing job at describing the way Yoongi feeds off of the reader.

"Fear, terror, horror, fright…it’s all the same, and yet Yoongi is almost sure he can taste the distinction. Like a fine wine, you have tasting notes that vary with every sip. "

Words like this are layered throughout the story, weaving a frightfully delicious tale that will have you questioning every Bump in the Night for the next week...

Bump In The Night | MYG

▻ Bump In The Night ↳ Bogeyman!Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ Horror/Thriller/Demon, Nyctophobia ⤜ Monster Under The Bed AU | angst, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 12,395 ⤜ Summary: The dark can be scary; full of strange, unseen things. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on your fear, the lights go out, and you face the reality that you were always right—you should fear the dark and especially what’s waiting in it. ⚠️ Crass language, fear, inciting fright, playing on emotions, teasing, kissing, fingering, biting/marking, dom tones, begging, choking, panic, unprotected v. sex, feeding on fear, dark thoughts, revealed dark intentions, predator/prey tones, chasing, claiming, serpentine tongue, oral f.receiving, monster cock/sex, metamorphosis

Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab for @minisugakoobies A/N: Sunny, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it. Happy belated birthday and hope you have a pleasant spooky holiday full of Bogeyman Yoongi delight!

A special thank you to @star-my @hisunshiine and @downbad4yoongi for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Beg For It

Nyctophobia [ nik-tuh-foh-bee-uh ] - noun Psychiatry: extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness.

One…

Two…

Three…

Breathe. Another few seconds, that’s all you want; just precious moments to prove yourself.

Four…

Five…

Six…

Cold chills slither down your spine despite the hot water beating against your back. Your fingers work vigorously against your cheeks and along your forehead. What feels like a thousand pounds settles along your lashes, even though you know it’s nothing more than marshmallowy-light foam.

Seven…

Eight…

Nin—

You spin around, nearly losing your footing in the shower as you angle your face under the spray from the showerhead. The heels of your palms press against your lids as you try to rid them of the foamy facial cleanser.

Air wheezes into your lungs, stray drops of water sucking between your parted lips as you try to breathe against the panic building in your chest. Jerking back from the spray, you open your eyes, wincing at the sting from the water-mixed-with-cleanser that drips from your lashes and floods the corners.

Nothing. There’s nothing there. All you see is the steam-filled space of your shower, water pelting down at your feet, a smattering of bottles arranged on the lip of the tub, and the inside of your plain shower curtain.

You sigh, irritation itching in your chest. Not even nine seconds. You were trying for at least ten. It never fails to leave a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you can’t seem to get a grip on yourself. It’s just the dark. Hell, it’s not even really the dark. It’s just having your eyes closed against the bright fluorescent lights of your bathroom; a pseudo-darkness.

The unease in your stomach refuses to dissipate as you turn off the shower, step out, wrap yourself in a towel, and go through the routine of brushing your teeth and massaging moisturizer into your skin. You hang up your damp towel, quickly pulling on the oversized t-shirt and shorts you intend to sleep in.

Steam clouds the mirror. You don’t typically care to wipe it away, not anymore. It’s one of your small, personal victories—one you intentionally remind yourself of now after your panicked stint in the shower. It used to be that you couldn’t stand not being able to see the space behind you through the reflective surface. Knowing if something lurked outside your line of sight, it couldn’t hide from being exposed through the mirror. Being able to see behind you was all that mattered. Now, you take pride in not needing to see…yet, the niggling in the back of your head won’t cease. So, you swipe a hand, collecting tiny beads of moisture on your palm as you go.

You’re unsure why the act makes your heart beat a little harder. It’s supposed to elicit the calm you so desperately need. But, once you’ve slashed a clear path across the mirror, your brow furrows as you lean in closer to it. Cold dread thunders through your veins as you jerk back, spinning on your heel to make sure what you saw through the mirror wasn’t just your mind playing a trick on you.

Nope, not a trick or even a figment of your imagination…unfortunately.

You stare in paranoid disbelief at the slender gap along the bottom of the bathroom door. The door that leads into your bedroom where you are absolutely, without a doubt, positive you left your bedside lamp on. The gap is dark, like a void threatening to suck you right into an endless nightmare of unrelenting terror. All that’s missing is a gaunt, skeletal hand sliding its too-long fingers under the door.

Shoving away those intrusive thoughts before they can take root and further fester like a dirty wound on your sanity, you try to think logically. It’s possible the bulb in your lamp could have blown, but you know you replaced it just last month. It’s far too soon for it to blow on its own, and surely, it’s not a faulty bulb. So, why is it out? Were you careless and, in truth, didn’t turn it on? A manic laugh gets caught in your throat as you silently berate yourself. That must be it. You simply forgot. So careless.

Fear is an acrid taste on your tongue as you slowly approach the door. You hate this feeling. Even though you tell yourself there’s nothing out there lurking in the dark to harm you, you simply forgot to leave the light on. The distress doesn’t subside—and it won’t. At least, not until you open the door and prove the dark to harbor no ill intent toward you.

Squaring your shoulders and taking what is supposed to be a calming and fortifying breath, though it feels more like sand slipping into your lungs, you wrap your fingers firmly around the brushed nickel handle. The metal is warm, slightly wet from the condensation formed during your shower, against your palm as you twist it.

You lick your trembling lips, taking one more moment to center yourself. Your eyes slide closed as you mentally recall the layout of your room, calculating how many steps there are to get to the nearest light switch. Your bed is angled so the foot faces the bathroom door, and the closet door to the left near the two windows you know are closed tight with the curtains drawn. The bedroom door is easily the furthest from the bathroom, leaving the overhead light out of the question. You knew, before you even began to analyze, that the bedside lamp you recall yourself leaving on is going to be the closest light source. Still, you needed to go through the motion of solidifying that information in your mind.

As you haltingly push it open, the quiet creak of the door, which sounds deafening in the silence of the bathroom, causes chills to pop up along your arms and the hairs at the nape of your neck to stand on end. Darkness ebbs as the light from the bathroom bleeds across the hardwood of your bedroom floor, slowly revealing the interior of your room.

Your heart lurches, and a scream rips from your chest when you see a dark figure sitting at the end of your bed come into focus as the bathroom door swings further open, the handle barely held in your now numb fingers. Panic barrels through you. Your muscles react instinctively, fingers tightening around the knob as you jerk back, the door closing with a harsh bang as you backpedal across the bathroom.

“Babe,” calls a playful voice from just on the other side of the door. You can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears. Nausea threatens to double you over, even as relief floods your system—such conflicting emotions that you feel suddenly off-kilter.

There is a fine sheen of cold sweat clinging to your neck. Your hands fist into the front of your shirt as the door eases open to reveal your boyfriend standing at the threshold. His dark ensemble makes it seem like the bathroom's light bends around his form, not daring to touch him.

You’ve never liked it when someone intentionally scares you, claiming it’s a joke. It always seems more like a cruel prank than a laughing matter. Though, you note, no one is laughing right now either way. He doesn’t look smug or self-satisfied for having scared you, just simply mildly amused.

“You scared me, Yoongi,” you state flatly, crossing your arms over your chest, hoping he picks up on your discomfort.

The corners of his lips turn down, and his brow furrows as he gives you an exaggerated pout. Even with your pounding heart and the upside down in your belly, you can’t help but appreciate how cute he is when he does that. “I know. I just didn’t see the point in wasting the power if you weren’t going to be in there.” He gestures vaguely behind him to your room, which is barely lit by the light pouring out of the bathroom.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to remind him that even though you weren’t in there, he was. Though, for some reason, Yoongi sitting in the dark doesn’t strike you as out of place. In the five years you’ve been together, you’ve learned to love his odd quirks just as much as any other part of him. He’s genuine, a caring person who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable—a far cry from anyone else you’ve ever given your time to.

“How was work?” you ask, aiming to get back on track with some semblance of normalcy—anything to not dwell on the lingering discomfort that’s still beating away in your chest.

His shoulders hitch up in a nonchalant manner. “Same as always. There’s been a big break in the Hunt case. Director Park thinks we’ll have the code cracked in a few more days. I say by tomorrow night, tops, just in time for our date. It’ll be a reward for my hard work,” his eyes twinkle with mirth. “After all, I think Samhain is a pretty fitting day for dealing with evil, huh?”

You make a noncommittal sound at that last part. Yoongi might enjoy that thought, but to you, tomorrow is more so just a day…simply October 31st and is more about plastic pumpkins, like the ones you have sitting on your front porch, than dealing with evil like that. The fact that Yoongi has convinced you to go to a festival tomorrow night is so wild you’ve been forcing yourself not to think about it.

“Well, I’d put my money on you over Director Park any day,” you say instead, giving him a soft, knowing smile. Yoongi has a penchant for estimations. If he thinks it’ll only take another day to crack a code that’s been wreaking havoc on Interpol for the better part of a year, then you believe him. You don’t pretend to understand all the intricacies of what he does; just know he’s really good with computers and helps whichever government agency needs it most or something like that.

Yoongi gives you a lazy smile in return. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear. Your confidence in me is like kindling for my fervor,” he croons, wrapping you up in his arms. It feels good to relax in his embrace, the last vestiges of your earlier panic melting away as you soak in his warmth and familiarity. “Sorry I scared you,” he murmurs into your damp hair. “Let me make it up to you.”

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, laughing softly when his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt and teasingly caress your sides—the touch is light, making your skin tighten and prickle in response.

A rumbling groan vibrates through Yoongi’s chest as he playfully nips along your jaw before planting his lips firmly over yours in a dizzying and claiming way. “We’ll start with kissing,” the words are whispered between plucks of his mouth against yours, tongue swiping sensually across your bottom lip.

“Kissing is good,” you agree, smiling against his mouth before melting into another heated tangle of tongues and stilted breaths. That fist around your heart eases, letting your chest expand fully for the first time since before you showered.

“Biting,” he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss to bury his face in your neck. The light pressure of his teeth pressing against your skin has your toes curling against the cold tile floor and your fingers fisting into the front of his shirt.

Yoongi plants his mouth right over your pulse point, his tongue flicking over your throbbing vein as his teeth clamp down gently. You swallow hard against the sensation, your heart shifting gears to thud fast in your chest for a different reason. It’s not necessarily fear that drives your senses higher now so much as it is anticipation and an increase in adrenaline—terror adjacent, something you prefer much more to the former.

You shudder against him, knees going weak as he moans, the sound sending pulsing shocks of vibrations down your spine with how his mouth fits against your neck. His fingers ghost along your shorts before finally pushing past the elastic band. The palms of his hands are warm as they slide around and grip handfuls of your ass.

Using his hold on you, Yoongi lifts you up onto the counter beside the sink. As his hands retreat, they tug your shorts with them, working them around the curve of your ass until they’re caught at your knees. You let him push them further until they slacken and fall to catch around your ankles, then onto the floor. Wincing slightly at how cold the counter is against your bare skin, you urge him to fill the space between your thighs, seeking his warmth flush against you once again.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, sucking in a sharp breath as he slides a hand between your bodies and presses the flat of his fingers against your pussy. You don’t need to look in the mirror to know his teeth have left an impression on your neck. He leans back and licks his lips in a show of appreciation, lidded eyes full of mischief and barely veiled lust. “Please.” It comes out warbled as he teases his middle finger between your lower lips.

“Beg for it,” he says. “Show me how much you want me to make you forget about the darkness.” His voice has an edge, like he’s teasing at something, but it’s lost on you to piece together what it might be.

Sucking in a deep breath, you repeat your plea, “Please.”

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, and you can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding between your legs and under the sensitive skin of your neck that Yoongi ravaged with his teeth. Lightheadedness kisses the edges of your clarity, daring you to get lost in the delirium that Yoongi is offering.

“You can do better than that,” Yoongi taunts, his laugh low and husky as he pulls away, leaving you bereft of his touch where you want it most. “Beg. For. It.” The words are clipped, punctuated with staccato taps of his middle finger against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck—Yoongi, please! Please, I need you!”

“That’s my girl,” Yoongi smiles wickedly. Two slender fingers sliding into your wet heat are your reward. “You’re so wet already. Look at how your body is pulling me in. Fuck, that’s nice.” He angles himself so you can both look down and watch his fingers slowly pull out, glistening with your arousal before sinking back in.

Your body squeezes around his fingers, walls fluttering in anticipation and building pleasure. “Need you,” you mumble, grabbing at the button on the front of his dark wash jeans with one hand and tugging at the bottom of his black t-shirt with the other. “Fuck me, Yoongi, please. Please, fuck me. I need you to make me forget.”

A flurry of motion accompanies his answering growl of approval as he helps you strip him out of his clothes and the rest of your own. You barely feel the absence of his fingers in your cunt before he pulls your ass to the edge of the counter and shoves his cock inside with a guttural moan that echoes in the small space.

The fit of him inside your body is deliciously perfect, like he was made to please you. Your fingers press dents into his shoulders as you grip him tightly. One of his hands squeezes your hip to keep you from slipping off the counter while the other finds its way to having a light grip on your throat.

His forehead rests against yours, the back of your head pressed against the mirror behind you. The angle makes his thrusts shallow, forcing the crown of his cock to rock against a sensitive spot deep inside that has you seeing spots behind your closed lids.

Yoongi has always been a contrasting lover, hot and cold, in a way that always leaves you breathless and assuaged. The look on his face says he’s fucking you, but the sensual roll of his hips says he’s making love to you—the hand on your throat says he just wants to control you. Regardless of how he fucks, it always consumes you. From the first time to now, he wholly and utterly devours your sanity and spits it back at you two-fold. He brings you palpable lucidity while also destroying all sense of right and wrong. Some call it morally grey; you call it just another titillating facet of who he is.

Pleasure builds fast, and you know you’re about to tip over the edge when the pressure of his hand on your throat increases. It’s an infinitesimal change, but it feels like the tightening of a vice all the same.

The erratic beat of your heart stutters further, swallowing you down into a thick-headed spiral of trepidation. You know Yoongi won’t hurt you. It’s not that—not quite. It’s the idea and knowledge that he could. It’s a taboo feeling, craving that helpless flutter deep in your belly that dares you to indulge in the darkness instead of running from it.

Yoongi’s hips continue to roll against you, your body pinned in place by his hand on your throat. Your eyes flutter open just to fall shut again as the hand on your hip moves until his thumb presses against your clit, making your body jerk and hurtle back toward the precipice of pleasure from before.

With his thumb pressed against one throbbing artery in your neck and the pads of his fingers against the twin on the other side, he has complete and utter control over you. All it takes is another barely-there squeeze to have you changing your grip from his shoulders to his forearm.

The bitter taste of cowardice laces together with the cloyingly sweet, carnal flavor of lust that’s coating your insides. Yoongi rumbles, a moan low in his chest. The rhythm of his hips kicks up until they’re hammering against yours to the point that measures of pain mix with the terror, forming into a rapture of exhilaration. His thumb coaxes your orgasm through precise flicks over your swollen clit.

You can’t help the sound that rips from your throat, squeezing past his grip in a ragged mockery of a moan—bright colors spiderweb across the backs of your closed lids as you sip from his chalice of wickedness. White noise joins the rush of blood in your ears as somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, alarm begins to bleed into the hazy euphoria clouding your head. “Yes!” Yoongi groans. “That’s it, fuck!”

“Y-yoon—“ you try to choke out his name, fingers trembling from their tight grip on his forearm. Just as you’re about to try and shove him away to get a reprieve, his hand loosens its hold on your throat, and the instant rush of oxygen to your brain washes away all other thoughts as your body surrenders once again to his dominion. The orgasm tears through you, sweeping you out in a hedonistic riptide. Your walls clamp around his cock so hard he snarls and shudders with the trigger of his own release.

You must have blacked out from the overwhelming cascade that besieged your senses because the next thing you’re aware of is Yoongi tucking you into bed beside him. The sheets are cool against your heated skin, a welcome lull of relief. He presses into your sated body, chest against your back and arm possessively curling over your hip. “Get some sleep, my queen,” he murmurs. “I’ll hold the darkness back.”

The room is dark, just as it was earlier when you panicked. But, just as always, when Yoongi is around, it’s less frightening…seemingly somehow less dark and foreboding. He might have darker desires when it comes to pleasure, but right now, he’s the light that chases away your other demons.

🖤🖤🖤

Yoongi

The taste of your fear still lingers in the back of Yoongi’s throat as he pretends to sleep curled around you. He knew turning off your bedroom light would scare you. It’s why he did it. The peckish feeling that rumbled in the pit of his stomach drove him to want to play with you. Your fear instantly sated his hunger, and it made his dick hard when you screamed. You scream so prettily he just can’t help that natural, primal response.

That is, after all, precisely why he chose you. Everything about you speaks to his needs, promising sweet and succulent fruit that’s always ripe for plucking.

He learned early on that if he could elevate your heart rate and incite a sliver of fear in you while fucking you…well, his full belly is testament enough to how much he loves that. You call it a kink, he calls it dessert. It wasn’t his intention to fuck you after he frightened you, but the irritating erection grating along his zipper had other plans.

His mortal form isn’t his favorite. It’s far too small and has far too many baser needs and limitations. Though he does enjoy the feel of your soft, pliant flesh under his—especially when you’re ripe with the sweet smell of terror—it makes it worth the discomfort this inferior mode has.

It’s not lost on Yoongi that he could have ruined you from the start by taking too much from you. But he’s been careful over the years, molding and training your body to be the perfect vessel for him to feed from. The fact you were already experiencing high anxiety and an innate fear of the dark prior to him coming into your life helped tremendously. Nyctophobia is such a beautiful thing.

You claim he’s helped you, for the most part, get over your fears. However, he knows this is just a lie you tell him and yourself to make yourself feel and seem braver. He knows the truth, though. There is no getting over your fear, not when it lives with you…sleeps next to you, touches you, fucks you. He’s everything you’re scared of, everything you think is creeping around in the dark, waiting to pounce. He’s your worst nightmare…literally as much as figuratively—and you have absolutely no inkling of that truth. All you see is what he lets you see: just a sweet guy with a penchant for darker tastes behind closed doors.

To you, he’s just Yoongi. But he has had many names over the centuries: Demon, Baba Yaga, El Coco, Butzemann, Tikoloshe, Bogeyman, and so on. All of them are generally the same, but none are quite right. He is all these things, and yet none of these things—he’s so much more.

It’s a common misconception that he only targets people who do misdeeds. That’s not it at all, for the sweetest fruit is the unwary, the innocent, the vulnerable, and the scared. That is the pinnacle of his desire, the unctuous delight that feeds his depravity and gives him power over the darkness—darkness that calls to him now.

Being careful not to wake you, Yoongi slips out from around your soft, lush body. Feeding on your fear in the bathroom drained some of your vitality, lowering your constitution, and the best recovery for that is a good, uninterrupted eight hours. So, he’ll leave you to replenish so that he may feast once again—one last time before he executes his final, ultimate plan; the whole reason he chose you to begin with and has been periodically parading around in this limited meat suit for years.

The maw of darkness under your bed beckons him to shake off the mortal form and take his rightful place as King among the shadows. Yoongi catches his reflection in the standing mirror across the room. The only thing distinct is the brilliant red eyes staring back at him. It feels good to stretch and dissolve into his proper form, shadows snaking along his limbs and filling his every breath.

You fidget on the bed, brow furrowing as your body reacts to the nearness of his proper form. He likes watching you twitch and shift, soft mewls of fright sounding low in your chest. If he wanted, he could swallow you whole, and you’d never be the wiser, one moment existing in your nightmare and the next slithering into the ether of what comes after. But, it’s not time…not yet.

Letting one of his long, spindly shadow fingers draw back in and reform into the echo of human flesh, he presses the blunt tip against your temple. You instantly quell your movements, and the pitiful cry in your chest subsides. Yoongi can feel the subtle tremble of your body, the vibrations skittering through your flesh as your body recognizes his hellish touch. Your subconscious is as familiar with his umbral form as your conscious is with the lies he’s used to frame how you see him with your eyes.

Digging through the screen of your nightmare, he pulls back the darkness and lets in just enough light to lull you into a false sense of security—something he does nearly every night after he’s fed from you so he doesn’t accidentally drain you dry. By the time he returns, the light will have faded from your dreams, and there will be just enough unfettered distress permeating the air of your bedroom to give him a top off of delicious fear, his own personal cup of pick-me-up.

Yoongi slides under the bed and into the darkness, leaving you to your deep, lambent dreams. He melts through the barrier between your world and his. Euphoria buzzes through him as his depth of power increases. That’s the biggest downfall of walking the mortal plane. There aren’t quite enough shadows or stinking fear to fill the neverending void inside him. But here, in the Realm of Darkness, the taste of terror is thick and nectarous. It lingers in the air and is as permanent as the oxygen you breathe in your world.

Yoongi drifts through the firmament of his domain, letting the worries and stress of what’s to come fade. For a being with endless power and control, he never thought he might have the need to be concerned over something seemingly so trivial. But, the ceremony and ritual he has planned for tomorrow night is easily the most critical thing he’s ever dared to accomplish.

The Realm of Darkness might be sufficiently filled with succulent fodder for him, but there are other limitations he encounters. Constraints that involve the worlds beyond his Kingdom. He doesn’t want just to be able to thrive here on his own turf. He has aspirations of letting his darkness seep into the outer realms—including yours—and if he has his way, you will help him do just that. The barriers will crumble, and he’ll be free to bathe the distant realms in his thick ichor of destruction.

Finally feeling more like himself, he aims for the Shadow Spire, where waits the Throne of the Damned—his throne. All it takes is a simple thought, and he’s standing in the sprawling cavern of the throne room. It stretches wide in all directions, having no end or beginning, just existing as his will needs.

Pillars of malachite soar into the air at equal intervals, disappearing into the glittering cosmos expanse above his head. Silvery flecks of light cast the whole room in a mockery of the night sky of your world, something he’s grown to admire over the years spent there. Yoongi takes a deep breath, soaking in the tangy, bitter stench of brimstone and copper. Soon, he hopes, your delectable perfume of fear will join them.

“Sire,” a gruff voice says in surprise. “We weren’t expecting you back until the ritual. Welcome, is there anything we can do for you?”

Yoongi settles his shadowy form on the monstrous broken stone pillar at the top of the dais that rises from the rocky floor. His court, ever vigilant in their duty to him, wait for him to respond. “Is everything prepared for the ceremony?” he asks, eyes finally landing on the six figures seated on the smaller stone plinths arrayed in a semi-circle in front of him—the Shadow Court once again complete with his return. Hopefully, he won’t have to leave the comfort of his court but one more time. Once the ritual is done, he shouldn’t have to so much as lift a finger to reach into the overworld.

“All is well and ready, Sire.” Wicked smiles spread like wildfire across the court. They’re just as excited as Yoongi is to be finally moving forward with the plan. None of them have tasted the kind of fear that Yoongi has feasted on from you—the fresh terror of the mortal realm—but if they had more corporeal forms, he knows they’d be salivating. Soon, so very soon.

Looking around at his companions, he can’t help but think how humorous it is that you so readily believed his deceptions about working for the human government. He remembers the day he finally stepped from the shadows and made himself known to you. You were immediately drawn to him and couldn't stop yourself from indulging in your curiosities like a moth drawn to a flame.

Yoongi had already come up with an elaborate backstory and characterization for the human he wanted to portray. He knew all of your deep, dark fantasies and brought them to life. Your eyes got round with awe and reverence when he first revealed his supposed job, confirming how gullible and under his spell you were. He can’t deny it’s worked in his favor.

He’s allowed to keep odd hours and disappear as needed. When he returns to your bed before the sun rises, he’ll leave you a note on your pillow about being pulled away for work. You’ll read it and sigh a dreamy sigh as you have every other time he’s done that. You never bother to seek further explanation—your trust in him is so wholly concrete.

There is satisfaction in the freedom you’ve granted him to embrace a darker side. It’s how he can get away with fucking you so callously that your brain warps it into some deranged form of love. You’ve chalked every depraved thing he’s done to you up to him needing an outlet after dealing with such heinous stuff for work. He only had to mention a few well-known acronyms, like FBI and CIA, and you accepted it. As scared as you are of the dark, he’s aware of the collection of slasher and horror novels you keep stuffed away under your bed and that you listen with rapt attention to those silly crime shows and podcasts that tell you he’s not the one you should be scared of. Soon, he won’t have to worry about any of that, though—no more silly backstory, no more hiding, no more stuffy mortal form, no more holding back. Tomorrow signifies a change, a new beginning. It’s the time when the veil between the worlds will be thin enough that he can drag you down without it sucking your life away. Some call it Samhain, Calan Gaeaf, Mischief Night, Halloween—it holds nearly as many names as Yoongi himself does—but for him, it will be the night he calls triumph. The night his shadows will lay a claim to you wholly; the night you stop fearing what goes bump in the night and instead stand by its side and let it consume you.

Wicked Delight

Consciousness comes in fits and spurts of clarity. There is a moment where you’re asleep but aware. With this awareness, you can discern and feel the potent darkness webbing across your subconscious. You’ve seen it before, the myriad of inky tendrils that zig-zag through the light like fissures over a dried river bed. It scares you but also fills you with intrigue so rich it nearly eclipses the fear.

You know that if you could just hang on to that in-between space, the feeling of teetering on the edge of a knife, you could examine the darkness further and figure out what it is and where it comes from. But your body has other plans, sucking you away from your inspection and pushing you toward uneasy wakefulness.

Shifting under the blankets, a crinkling noise draws your eyes open to land on a rumple of white paper lying beside you on the empty side of the bed. With fumbling fingers, you grab the ripped leaf of creamy parchment and turn it so you can see the blue scrawl of words.

Got some darkness to take care of. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Don’t forget; 11 pm sharp, beginning of the corn maze. X

There is no name signed to the note, just an X, but you know who left it, regardless. You roll over, holding the thin paper above you so you can see the faded, faint print under his ink. A smile tugs at your lips when you realize it’s a corner ripped from Kinder und Hausmärchen, one of Yoongi’s favorite books. He has an original first edition that he’s let you moon over a few times. The first time you found a note and saw what it was written on, you nearly crawled out of your skin to berate him for ruining such a prize. He gently chided you for your reaction and assured you it was just a copy, scanned and printed for the whimsy of it.

Looking closer, you see the corner is from a page of the Cat and Mouse in Partnership tale. Your smile fades, turning into a mild frown as an odd feeling ghosts beneath your skin, eliciting goosebumps to pop up along your arms. Sighing, you shake your head and pull the blanket up high under your chin, chalking the sensation up to being cold. Your eyes rove around the room, taking in the early morning light filtering in through your thin curtains, showing you just enough of the inside of your room to be comfortable with not having a light on.

Finally deciding there’s no point in dallying in bed further, you toss back the covers and brace yourself against the chill in your room. Only, it’s not as cold as you were anticipating. Opening the small drawer on your nightstand to deposit the message in with the dozens of others Yoongi has left you over the years, you can help but smile. They’re sweet, little pieces of him that affirm to you why it’s okay he disappears the way he does. The reminder comforts you, especially on this day.

Halloween has never been your favorite. Well, that’s not true, exactly. You do like Halloween—just the modern and more mainstream version with candy, pumpkins, and warm, spiced drinks. Fall colors are also something you enjoy. The cooler air is nice. You’re partial to cozy sweaters and boots, too.

All in all, you enjoy this time of the year. You just don’t necessarily like the darker parts, the scarier parts. Haunted houses and scary movies are things you could do without unless it’s under very specific circumstances. Such as having Yoongi there. Which is the only reason you’ve agreed to meet him at the festival tonight. You haven’t been since you were a teen and got so scared by the fright actors that you swore never to return.

Except, now, you are returning. It’s been on the tip of your tongue for the last week to cancel on Yoongi, feigning a head or stomach ache. But, the sheer excitement in his gaze when you agreed, has been enough to make you bite your tongue every time a protest bubbles up. You can—and will—do this.

With an entire day to go before your date with Yoongi, you busy yourself with mundane tasks. A bit of cleaning, some light reading, and lastly, dumping a few bags of assorted and prepackaged candies into a bright orange bowl with a goofy jack-o-lantern face printed on the side.

You’re usually a porchlight-off kind of person. Still, this year, considering your own venture outside your proverbial Halloween box, you decided why not go the extra mile for others, too? Even if one kid dumps the entire bowl into their treat bag, you’ll at least feel somewhat accomplished in your attempt.

Setting the bowl on your doorstep, you stand back and survey it. The yellow-tinged porch light illuminates the candy and the plastic pumpkins you have arranged on either side of your door. You contemplate adding a ‘please take only one’ sign for the bowl but decide a paper warning isn’t much of a deterrent. Leaving the candy to its fate, you head back inside to finish getting ready.

Time flows in a weird, out-of-body kind of way. You’re aware of pulling on your coat and walking into your garage through the kitchen—even the process of driving to the festival registers in your mind. But, you’re genuinely not cognisant of what you’re doing until you’re staring at the large flashing sign for the festival. You have to practically put on blinders to make it through the ticketing process, ignoring the scare actors as you wait in line.

The corn maze is at the center of it all, meaning you keep your eyes glued to the ground as you skirt the edges of the food stalls and game stands until you reach it. There, you wait, standing at the start of the corn maze and stare at your watch, counting the seconds as they tick by with the small hand.

The air is cool, the crisp scent of fall heavy around you. Laughter and faint screams carry to you from the festival surrounding the maze. The giant corn labyrinth is the center of the entire two-week-long event. Thousands of people flock from near and far to venture within the husked, cream-colored stalks.

If you make it through the maze without assistance from the scare actors, then you get an entire bucket of caramel popcorn drizzled with chocolate. That’s never been enough of a reward for you to try. Even the last time you were here, you never stepped foot into the clustered embrace of the maze.

The festival is lit enough with all the twinkling lights and fair games lining the thoroughfares and the midway. Food trucks and stalls litter through the vendors with stuffed animals and cackling clowns. You try to ignore the bodies that sway and shamble through the crowd—the scare actors. They’re just people dressed up in costume and makeup, but they still elicit that flighty feeling in your belly, that little trickle of fear.

At the ticket booths, there were neon green necklaces you could purchase. You used them as a distraction while you waited in line. They’re ‘no scare’ necklaces, big bright indicators that you’re a sensitive little bitch that doesn’t want to be scared. At least, that’s how you felt looking at them, considering buying one. You know they’re an extremely valid item, a protective emblem that many people need, and that it’s perfectly fine—in fact, it’s encouraged for people to use them if they need to.

As you fingered the green nylon of the lanyard, you couldn’t help chewing your bottom lip, worrying at it until it cracked under your teeth and the coppery tang of blood danced across your tongue. You almost bought it…maybe you should have. However, the fact that you’re half-hidden by the corn maze sign and doing everything in your power not to draw unwanted attention to yourself seems to be keeping you from attracting the actors your way.

The tiny hand on your watch ticks away, drawing closer to turning over the minute, which'll turn over the hour to 11 PM. Sharp. Yoongi’s insistence. Just as the hands come together on your watch, you feel that telltale tingling feeling of eyes on you. It’s a familiar sensation, one you often associate with Yoongi. Daring to step out from behind the sign to the corn maze, you spin in a slow circle, trying to catch sight of him.

“Looking for someone?”

You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the shriek that rips from your chest as those words drift in from right behind you. So close that it’s impossible to imagine you hadn’t noticed him approaching you as you looked around.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, dropping your hand.

He's enveloping you from behind before you can turn around and give him a pouty yet stern look. His familiar musk and warmth ease your heart back from its hammering gallop. “You’re good enough to eat,” he gruffly murmurs, pressing his nose into the fabric of your coat at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You can feel more than hear his deep inhalation, as if he’s drawing in the scent of your very soul and branding it throughout his olfactory system.

“The maze closes in an hour. Are you sure we can make it to the center before then?” you ask, voice light and airy as relief infused with drips of serotonin weaken your knees and your resolve to be upset with him for frightening you. You turn in his arms, keen to look upon his face for another kick of comfort, but it sours in your belly when you take in his pulled-up hood and the thick black gaiter covering the bottom half of his face. “What’s that for?”

Yoongi shrugs, shoulders lifting in his typical nonchalant manner. “It’s Halloween. Consider me dressed for the occasion.” He winks at you, but it does nothing to quell the unease still rolling around just beneath your surface. Feigning that stomachache is starting to sound more and more appealing, Yoongi’s excitement be damned.

“You look like a burglar.”

You can’t see his smile, but you can tell it’s there by how his eyes crinkle and lids lower mischievously. “And you look ripe for the burgling.”

“You’re insufferable,” you gripe teasingly, finally letting a smile grace your face despite the lingering anxiety. It’s easy to forget your fears and worries when you’re looking into his umber-colored gaze.

“Come on, let’s go.” Yoongi offers you his elbow, and you tuck your hand into the crook of it, leaning your shoulder against his arm.

The fleece-lined leggings you chose to wear keep you warm enough, paired with the knit sweater and thick tweed coat covering your top half. Your chunky boots are comfortable and practical for the slightly uneven terrain of the cornfield-turned-maze. Yoongi is far more casual in just jeans, the hoodie, and a pair of dusty and worn sneakers.

You study his face the best you can past the edge of his hood and out of the corner of your eye. He’s just as handsome as always. Even the black fabric covering the bottom half of his face doesn’t detract from his allure, which seems to be intensified by the deepening darkness around you as he leads you through the maze entrance.

A festival worker stands off to the side in full-on farmer-gore. Their overalls are covered in faux viscera, and there is a bloodied sling blade dangling from their off-hand as they beckon you and Yoongi forward with their other.

“Tonight's savior phrase is ‘Pumpkin Guts’, yell it out if you need assistance navigating the maze, and a helper will assist you,” he offers before turning to the next patron approaching a few feet behind you and Yoongi and giving them the same information.

“Pumpkin Guts,” Yoongi scoffs with a quiet laugh. “Surely they could have come up with something far more fitting than that.”

“I find it kind of nice. The childish charm of it helps make a situation like getting lost in the maze less scary, don’t you think?”

His eyes look more onyx now that you’re within the maze, the only illumination coming from tiny, sparse fairy lights. They catch your gaze, and you see a smile tilt up the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. “That’s adorable.”

“What?” you laugh, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks.

Yoongi shakes his head, his smile growing. “You always find the good in everything. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”

All the residual anxiety from earlier bleeds away with just that singular statement. You press in closer to Yoongi and angle your face up in silent request, to which he immediately obliges. He hooks a finger in the lip of his gaiter and pulls it down so he can slant his mouth over yours. His lips are warmer than usual, his breath carrying faint hints of bourbon as he teasingly slips his tongue through the seam of your lips. All too soon, he’s pulling away, leaving you with just that small taste of him. The gaiter slides back into place, and he nods ahead of you. “The quicker we make it to the center, the quicker you get the surprise I have waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” you ask, thoroughly intrigued.

His affirming hum in response turns into a soft chuckle as you eagerly quicken your steps, tugging him along beside you. As someone who isn’t partial to being shocked or scared, it’s perhaps a bit ironic that you love surprises of the unknown. They just have to be the right kind—like one from Yoongi; er, well, at least the ones that don’t involve him sitting on your bed in the dark as you open the bathroom door or so you tell yourself—but you digress.

Though, perhaps there is a bit of enjoyment from those kinds of surprises, too. In a twisted, semi-fucked up way, the surge of adrenaline is like a counterweight to the dopamine response from your amygdala that follows any time you get frightened. The perfect balance of emotions. The fight or flight reflex makes your body feel like it’s keyed up with extra energy, leaving you feeling like you’ve just run a mile or fucked for an hour. It’s maybe a little unhinged to salivate over those small sips of terror secretly. Does that make you a masochist?

You’d almost think Yoongi picks up on your inner thoughts with the way he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat and gives you a sidelong, knowing look. Something tingles beneath your skin, an electric feeling akin to loose ambitions. It seems tonight won’t be so bad after all.

The crunch of dried corn husks and hay accompanies the occasional scream or laugh echoing from various points in the maze. You’ve only led Yoongi to a dead-end a handful of times so far, but the anxiety at not having found the center of the maze yet is starting to mount.

“I can feel your stress in the tension in your hand,” Yoongi muses softly. “Relax, you’ll get your surprise.”

“What if they close the maze before we make it to the center, though?”

“They won’t.”

You cut a quick glance at him. He looks smug. “You seem so sure, but from my count,” you shift your attention to your watch, “we only have fifteen minutes before the festival closes, and I’d guess we’re nowhere near the center yet.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I may have paid the vendor to let us stay as long as we need.”

“You did what?”

“Tonight’s special,” Yoongi tugs you to a stop, his hands engulfing yours, and gives you a pointed look. “Very special.” The thumb of his right hand grazes over the expanse of skin above the knuckle on your left ring finger. “Now, let’s go find the center…and your surprise.”

A new sensation trickles in–excitement. Your heart patters faster as you turn and haul Yoongi on with renewed vigor. Gone is any trepidation; in its place, nothing but giddy and barely veiled anticipation. And to think, you’d almost been silly and canceled on him.

🖤🖤🖤

Yoongi

Yoongi wasn’t exaggerating when he said you look good enough to eat tonight. If only you knew how close to an accurate statement that was. He’s had a constant flow of moisture seeping into his mouth since he laid eyes on you standing behind the wooden sign for the maze. He had just finished setting up the surprise for you in the center, utilizing his natural form in order to move quickly without being seen.

All the implements he needs await him at the maze's center. The theatrics of it all are only for fun. He could have simply taken you without them. But he’s always been partial to playing with his food before devouring it. The pungency of your anxiety as you waited was a delightful appetizer to what is sure to be a satiating main course.

Every time you make a wrong turn in the maze, Yoongi can feel the tension in your muscles and the momentary disappointment that flavors your scent. It’s amusing watching you shuffle your feet and grumble under your breath before turning and backtracking.

It’s not lost to him the amount of uncertainty you’ve had ever since he asked you to go with him tonight. Not that he would have given you a choice in the end; he’d have taken you by force if needed. But he’s a passive creature at best, so the less work he has to do, the better.

Using the ruse of there being a surprise waiting for you isn’t entirely untrue. Though, the treat he’s confident that he’s planted the idea of in your head is far different from what’s actually going to happen. He’s spent enough time in the mortal realm to know what you’d have interpreted from him stroking that particular finger with the right look in his eye. Your heart had gone into a frenzy of thick, heavy beats, and your eyes had lit up with wonder.

Yeah, he’s pretty sure he knows what’s driving your feet to move as quickly as they are now. It’ll just make the disappointment taste that much sweeter. Over the five years he’s been administering to you, molding you into the perfect vessel, he’s learned the small nuances that make you tick. Whether it’s for eliciting fear or excitement, desire or anguish, he knows exactly how to produce the results he wants.

“Ugh,” you grumble for the dozenth time when you turn a corner and come to another dead end. “This is impossible. How can you find enjoyment in these things?”

Yoongi smirks. “It’s quite analytical if you really want me to answer that.” The way your nose wrinkles when he says that is positively adorable. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”

You gleefully cede the lead, letting him guide you back and toward a different direction entirely. You’re still excited, bubbling with positive anticipation, even though you’re no longer playing the game, per se. It’s interesting how you so quickly relinquish the hunt—he’d never.

The noise of the festival and maze has long since fizzled away. He didn’t actually pay the attendant. He’s just using some of his ability to mask your presence from anyone who might get in the way. Some of the lights from the midway are still going, and a few rides are lit up. However, the deeper Yoongi leads you into the labyrinth, the darker it becomes. He’s confident you’re so wound up that you don’t even notice how his shadows grow and stretch along the narrow walkway around you.

“Oh, look!” You excitedly point at the opening that comes into view at the end of the row. “I can smell the popcorn. Did that bribe include a bucket waiting for us, too?”

Yoongi has no idea if there is popcorn waiting, but he imagines you’re only smelling the lingering scent. He can’t detect anyone else within a hundred-meter radius around the maze. If the prospect of popcorn makes you happy, then sure. “Of course it did. We’ll need a snack once I’m done with you.” Which mostly isn’t true, though he can’t be sure. Yoongi has never shadow-turned a human before, much less taken a mate in the process. You might be ravenous by the time he’s done; though, he’d bet it won’t be popcorn you’ll be craving.

There is a distinct moment where Yoongi can feel the shift in your demeanor. Your excitement dips into confusion as you take in the finish line area that’s deserted of anyone and anything other than the large 10 ft square structure he erected in the middle. The raw malachite plinths are so dark the lindworm-colored stone seems to absorb the illuminance around them, turning the gateway into a giant pit of darkness that devours the faint twinkling lights. Shadows bleed from the open space between the pillars, reaching for their master.

Yoongi’s blood sings with desire as fear trickles in with the confusion. “Yoongi,” you whisper his name, and it warbles from your lips oh so beautifully. “What’s that?”

“That’s your future, my love.” He untangles himself from your grip, circling you like a predator. “Now, run!” he snarls from right behind you.

You don’t even scream when he shoves you forward, your arms windmilling and boots tripping over the scatter of dried corn husks before you topple headlong between the pillars. The last thing he sees before the waiting shadows swallow you is the whites of your eyes as you throw a panicked look over your shoulder at him.

It’s mildly disappointing that you didn’t even so much as grunt or give him any sort of satisfaction that you’re petrified other than the cloying perfume of your terror that settles on his tongue when he huffs in irritation. Hopefully, when he follows you through the gateway, you’ll already be on the run because he’s in the mood to play a while longer before he shatters the world as you know it.

Yoongi wants you to recognize him, so he only casts off some of his mortal form, choosing to keep his face and most of his body intact. What changes is his size; he grows larger, arms and legs longer, fingers more like talons, and eyes the dark red of fresh blood.

He knows he looks monstrous, even more so with the cloth still covering the lower half of his face and the hoodie now ripped and hanging from his physique. As soon as he slides through the barrier of the gateway, he’s met with that euphoric sound he hoped for earlier. Your scream rends through the thick, stale air of the Realm of Darkness, music to his ears.

“That’s my girl,” Yoongi crows, his voice gravelly and distorted by his natural form. He inhales deeply, sucking in your dismay's succulent and divine fragrance. “Fuck.”

You scream again as he steps toward you, which spurs you into gaining your feet, not even caring to look at the soot-like substance caking your hands and knees. Yoongi can only imagine the thoughts warring inside your pretty little head right now. Wild fear makes your eyes flick frantically around before you choose a direction and sprint at breakneck speed between the skeletal trees surrounding this side of the gateway.

He chose the Forest of Decay specifically because it provides the perfect environment for a chase. It allows him to easily keep up with you while giving the illusion of protection. There’s also not a single nook or cranny Yoongi isn’t intimately familiar with; after all, he can’t have you finding some unknown hole to burrow into.

The flash and flicker of your coat draws his attention as it zigs and zags through the petrified sentinels of the forest. Their long, gnarled branches reach far, entwining overhead like a macabre endless bird's nest. It creates a dim atmosphere, with the faintest hint of light bleeding through the limbs. Each tree is about a foot wide and twenty feet high, the ground covered in sooty ash; it’s an ideal playground.

“Leave me alone!” you sob when Yoongi lets you catch another glimpse of him.

Yoongi shudders as a fresh, new wave of terror undulates from you and washes over him. “No can do, my queen.”

The thrill of the chase adds kindling to Yoongi’s need to consume you whole. Every step you take is reckless. You throw yourself around trees so fast you nearly hit the next. The spacing between the trees is relatively narrow, just a few feet at most. Still, with the way you’re barreling through them, you’ve already accumulated a few scratches and minor lacerations from the dried bark, feet kicking up small puffs of ash with every frantic step. The tangy, sweet scent of your blood makes him salivate. The thick, viscous drool coating his tongue will make it all that easier to fuck you with it once he catches you.

Lumbering on behind you, Yoongi intentionally stomps and makes as much noise as possible. Every crack and thump he makes has a whimper shivering from your throat. The thick appendage between his monstrous thighs swells with each terrified sound you make. Fucking you in his proper form will be such a treat. Surely, it’ll be far better than any sex he’s had with the limits of his human body, even if he does love the way your softness compliments his.

But there is nothing soft about Yoongi now—not when he has such a tasty morsel running and screaming so prettily for him. He’s all hard edges and thick muscle. A manic chuckle bubbles in his chest as he leaps ahead, hounding your heels.

It’s comical, ironic even, when he watches your foot catch on a high root hidden by a pile of ash, and you go sprawling on the ground before him. He’s seen enough of those cheesy horror films so fervently worshiped in your world to know how funny this is.

“Please, no! Leave me alone!” you beg through ragged breaths. Your face and hair are marked with scratches, flecks of dried bark, and the pewter-colored ash covering the ground.

An appreciative moan works its way free of Yoongi as he stands over you, swaying like he’s drunk. Which, maybe he is. There is a faint buzzing in his ears, and if he opens his eyes too wide, your image doubles. Two of you; he grins wickedly at the prospect. Now, that would be a definite treat.

As it is, there’s only you; that will be sufficient for what Yoongi has planned. He looms over you, and the backward-bending joints of his knees give slightly as he towers across your prone form. Your eyes pan over his arched body, perhaps for the first time, taking it in with true clarity. Yoongi lets his skin ripple between human and proper form, coalescing and whirling with shadows.

With a flex of darkness, he rends the remnants of his clothes. The ripping of the seams and subsequent soft plop of the ruined fabrics echo through the suddenly silent space. You’re barely even breathing as you take him in, eyes landing on the swinging cock that nearly brushes your belly as he places a gnarled hand beside your head in the ash.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, though it comes out more like sand in a grinder. Lowering further, Yoongi nudges your chin with his nose, guiding your head sideways to give him unfettered access to your throat. Pressing into the crook of your neck, he huffs hot breath over your skin, rejoicing in the instinctive reaction. Your skin prickles and flushes with goosebumps, and a thick cloud of potent fear wafts up as your pulse hammers away beneath his lips.

“P-please,” you whimper through trembling lips. Tears stream down your cheek and drip off the bridge of your nose. Their salty tang mixes with the sweetness of terror pervading the air.

That word, spoken in that way…it does something to Yoongi. He groans, nipping at the skin of your neck with his blunted teeth before letting them elongate so he can adequately graze your papery-thin flesh. You cry out when they slice through, leaving behind thin blood trickles and shallow scratches.

Your blood is laced with fear, blooming on his tongue like an ambrosia of the gods. “You’ve always begged so prettily, my queen. You’re a treasure, and I’m so glad I found you all those years ago, so innocent and unsuspecting—my perfect mate.”

The next scream that leaves your lips is guttural, full of panic and delirium as Yoongi takes his first pull from your body. Thin wisps of black shadow thread from his lips to yours. They pulse with every drag he takes. He’s fed from you thousands of times, but never like this—never so profoundly.

Fear, terror, horror, fright…it’s all the same, and yet Yoongi is almost sure he can taste the distinction. Like a fine wine, you have tasting notes that vary with every sip. By the fifth breath, your body has grown slack, your eyes wide and glassy. Tears still stream down your face but in silence.

Yoongi watches your pallor grow sickly, waxy as sweat pearls along your hairline and temples. Draining you is a delicate affair, something he’s both dreaded and looked forward to for so long. Watching the fire that he loves so much bleed from your eyes and the vigor leech from your skin pangs him with a foreign sensation, something akin to mourning? He realizes now he will mourn the loss of your human form, even if it’s far inferior to what he will turn you into.

With one final shuddering gasp, the darkest, thickest tendril of shadow snakes its way between your parted lips. Your fingers and limbs spasm as the inky darkness roots in deep, tethering itself to you like the strings of a marionette. It pulls tight in Yoongi’s own chest, cementing his essence to yours. As a barbed ring of shadow settles on the ring finger of your left hand, the bond snaps into place, and chaos ensues.

🖤🖤🖤

You’ve never experienced such visceral fear before. It’s consumed every fiber of your being. You’re no longer who you once were and will never be the same again. You are simply fear incarnate.

A boiling starts beneath your skin, beginning at the tips of your fingers and toes before rolling through to the center of your chest, where it pops and sizzles like dry ice in tepid water, so cold it burns.

It’s like flipping a coin. One minute, you are experiencing insurmountable terror, and the next, you exude it. Nothing can scare you now, not even the monster sitting a few feet away watching you with calculated eyes—familiar eyes, eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you can count.

They’re not as cold as they were a moment ago. You distinctly remember how those red eyes softened right before you felt yourself float away. It’s Yoongi, you know this, but it’s also not. He’s different, and it’s not even the deformed, gangly shadow form that makes up his body, either. There’s something more, something that draws you in, like an anchor dragging you into his deepest, darkest depths. He’s a vast ocean, and you’re pretty sure what he just did was akin to drowning you—killing you.

Only you don’t feel dead.

Quite the opposite, in fact. For the first time in your existence, you feel truly alive; and not in the living sense but in the eternal sense. You have no ending or beginning; you exist as you will yourself to be.

With that thought, your body urges you to change, to morph into a far more comfortable form. Darkness seeps from your pores, cascading out of your skin until it becomes a mockery of its former self, and it feels good—so good.

“What have you done to me?” Your voice sounds different, soft yet sultry. It reminds you of black silk and lace, devious and coy, with the perfect mix of husk and drawl.

Yoongi lets out a slow breath, the sound like dry leaves crackling. “Made you mine.”

“What…what are we?”

The soft ash sifts between your now exposed toes, the boots you once wore laying in peeled strips along with tattered remnants of your clothes. Nudity has never been an issue for you, but it’s as if you have no inhibitions at all now. The shadows around your body contort to form curves and perfect swells.

“We have many names. Demons, bogeymen…it’s all very fitting, yet doesn’t quite capture the truth. What I am—what we are—is darkness, fear, terror, and shadow. We are infinite, endless, and everything all at once.”

“Why me?” you whisper. That tether inside of you pulses, pulling tight as you shift and try to put distance between yourself and Yoongi. It’s like a rope around your throat, pulling you up short.

Yoongi narrows his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. “This is the Realm of Darkness—my domain,” he gestures broadly with a clawed hand, “and it was all I had access to until I found a way to enter yours. Once I tasted the sweet nectar of fear it provided and the power it allowed me access to, I couldn’t stop my curiosity and need for more. Then I found you, and I knew you would be the perfect compliment to my aspirations, just the thing I needed to break the barriers completely.”

He straightens up, and the way his body catches your attention has a heat flaring somewhere deep in your being. Your eyes lock on the dark sinews and plump muscles that stretch and contract as Yoongi moves to crouch in front of you. The ribbed and notched cock swaying between his thighs dribbles a thick, viscous line of lavender-colored arousal.

Tearing your eyes from the sight of it, you force yourself to look into his feral, red eyes. His explanation is both confusing and clear at the same time. You understand it, but know that you should be railing against it because it’s morally incomprehensible. You’ve essentially been kidnapped and forced into what this is. Yet…yet—“I feel…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe it.

“Powerful,” Yoongi offers with a knowing, pointed-tooth grin.

“Powerful,” you repeat, letting the word roll around your tongue before nodding. Perhaps that’s why you are shrugging off your cares and the moral compass that has seemingly forgotten how to point north.

The subtle smell of burnt wood and sulfur hits you as Yoongi raises a hand to fit across the front of your throat. Those too-long fingers engulf it, sending a shiver down your new body. Instead of your belly filling up with fear, it fills with desire and need. You no longer need to battle the terror, letting it drip away from you instead.

“Look at you. You’re so perfect. You don’t feel scared, but that’s only because this realm leeches it away and devours it before it can poison your mind, leaving behind nothing but how you truly feel.”

You know there has always been a darkness inside you, something that even you feared to face head-on. After all, it must take some kind of crazy to be both scared of the dark and want to embrace it. It’s not just the way Yoongi plied your body and made you forget to care about being proper and good. Is this what you were made for—all the fright and terror you’ve experienced and secretly sought out leading you to this very moment here?

All it takes is one look at Yoongi to know the truth.

You were created for this, crafted to be precisely what Yoongi needed, just as he said.

With that moment of clarity and acceptance, a new sensation slithers down your spine. A lasciviousness that has you moaning in surprise.

“Fuck,” you grind out between clenched teeth.

“Gladly,” Yoongi chuckles, his red eyes taking on a lecherous gleam. “Let’s unleash your darkness on the realms, my queen.”

Between one breath and the next, your knees are splayed wide, and Yoongi has his face buried between your thighs. All it takes is one languid swipe of his long, broad tongue to have you cursing again. Caustic words fall from your mouth, laced with vitriol as it’s unfair how good it feels. It’s like every inch of contact between your body and his writes itself across what was once your soul.

“Mmmph,” you moan incoherently as the beginning of an orgasm lashes against your insides. Yoongi greedily sucks and licks, tongue laving over your throbbing clit before sliding between your contracting walls.

A tsunami of darkness crashes out from within you, blanketing the surrounding forest in shadow. Wisps of clarity ebb and flow, drifting along with the gloom until Yoongi grounds you with an exceptionally sharp pinch to one of your nipples.

“Almost there,” he announces gleefully, licking his lips before launching forward and forcing you onto your back.

Yoongi feels like fire against you, his body scorching everywhere it touches. You expect to feel the soft ash against your back but the only sensation that ebbs in is a cool aeration against the exposed skin between your shoulder blades.

Monstrous arms wrap around you as Yoongi slots his too-big mouth over yours, invading you with his slick, serpentine tongue. Your eyes flutter open, and you catch a glimpse of a pewter sky beyond the scraggy branches that are suddenly closer overhead.

You try to pull away from his devouring kiss to alert him to the jagged web of dry wood about to scrape his back, but he growls and renews his effort to shove his tongue as far into your mouth as possible. Snaps and cracks fill the air, and wood explodes around you.

Realization dawns as more should-be-fear-turned-lust pours through your body and expands beyond it, filling the sky around you with a murky darkness. The power of that emotion propels you further, sending you and Yoongi far above the landscape to suspend over the entirety of the Realm of Darkness, leaving a streamer of smoke-like essence in your wake.

Yoongi throws his head back, finally relenting from the kiss. His broad chest heaves against yours, and his red eyes are wild as they roll manically before landing on you. “How is this possible?” you pant, hands gripping the muscles of his shoulders tightly.

“Anything is possible here,” he whispers fervently before spinning you so fast your vision blurs. The horizon spans as far as you can see around you. You and Yoongi are hundreds of feet higher than even the tallest mountain peak. Everything is a monochrome grey, black, or in-between. A jagged line of mountains rear to your right while inky streams and rivers zig zag to your left. It’s a hideously beautiful display that contradicts all scenic views you’ve ever seen, yet is better than all of them combined.

“Oh, God,” you whimper when Yoongi forces your legs wide and slots his hips between them from behind. Shadows billow around you, charged with energy that crackles and sizzles, barely restrained from being unleashed to wreak untold havoc.

Thin fingers slide around to cup the front of your throat, giving a none too gentle squeeze. Yoongi snarls, “There is no God here. We are the gods!” His declaration is punctuated by the head of his cock prodding against your sopping cunt. This new body is already eager to pleasure Yoongi and receive pleasure in kind.

His hips kick forward, and you feel every delicious ridge and ripple along his thick shaft. It feels like he invades the pit of your stomach, filling you to the brink. It’s a rush of wicked delight, pure erotic rapture.

You moan again, this time invoking the only name left on your tongue, “Yoongi!”

“I’ve been looking forward to fucking you like this for five years,” he grunts, emphasizing the words with his hips pumping against your ass in brutal strokes. “Claiming you wholly, decorating the world with our combined shadows. Look how they writhe for you, waiting for you to command them. Let go.”

Your eyes roll from side to side, taking in the dark, undulating forms stretching wide around you. With each prick of pleasure Yoongi insights in your body, they branch and roil further out, creating the foundation for your own personal bedlam.

Like a bounty won at the end of a hunt, Yoongi ravishes your body with his. He’s brutal, unrelenting and wanton. The hand on your throat tugs with every slam of his hips, bowing your back and forcing you to peer out at the Kingdom begging for your rule. Darkness beseeches you, screaming for your glory and power as it pours out and blankets the sky.

Your world narrows to one pin point of coherency. Yoongi. He is nothing and everything all at once. He is the beginning and the end—fear, loathing, lust, and madness…through it all, he is infinite. And he’s yours.

With one final, shuddering breath you let go; welcoming the darkness once and for all.

“Yes.” The word, whispered from your parted lips, is sucked away with the maelstrom that detonates around and within you.

You barely hear the guttural, primal roar that emits from Yoongi as he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with his terrible darkness. You shatter into a multitude of shards, a glittering storm that dances through the ether, sparking and catching on the thin membrane that stretches between the realms. All it takes is one weak point, a small breach in the barrier, and everything falls apart.

It’s glorious, feeling yourself everywhere all at once. Your body is still fluttering around Yoongi, sucking and welcoming his release into your soul. But, your consciousness is spread wide, bleeding through the nexus of this realm and the one you once called home.

The mortal realm bows to your will. You can feel the beings of the Realm of Darkness funneling toward the broken gateways, pouring through to consume and conquer with the whisper of your glory on their tongues. Fear reigns supreme, consuming everything in its path as you expand your hold on the darkness.

“My Queen of Darkness,” the ephemeral coo caresses your ear, phantom lips brushing along your shadows. Yoongi’s darkness blends with yours, adding to the pulse that seeps to all corners of existence. “No longer will you fear, as you are fear itself…glorious, neverending fear.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-10-23 ColorMePurplex2

#min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bogeymanyoongie #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts halloween #bts yoongi #fic review #ficstoric society #bwhq ficstoric society #bts fic review

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colormepurplex2 · 3 months ago

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This was beautiful and achingly sweet while also being devastatingly sad at times.

It's the perfect culmination of growth, experience, and tender care shared between two souls brought together by destiny, even though fate seemed to be against them time and time again.

More, with potential spoilers, below!

The imagery was stunning:

...you both take more photos with orange cosmos that look like pinwheels atop slender stems and silver grass of white and bronze ends weeping toward the ground.

While there were also times I couldn't stop frowning. I swear, reading the part about how Jungkook was falling back into what was perceived as his old ways once again, I was about to reach through the computer screen and smack him 😂

"I can’t do that again. I can’t give you all of me and only get pieces of you.”

I felt this SO profoundly. Unfortunately, it's the summary of how many relationships go, and I've felt this bitter sting and know precisely what she meant.

I'm so glad JK got his shit together by the end and proved that fate really was on their side the whole time. Sometimes, the timing just isn't right for people (or anything, really) but if they're meant to be, then life has a way of making it so.

Amber Confetti

Written for @bangtanwritershq Falling Together event

⟢ Rating: MA

⟢ Jungkook x female reader ⟢ Word Count: 3.5k ⟢ Genres: Second chance ⟢ Warnings: cursing, dirty talk, nipple play, unprotected penetration, smut, misunderstanding, sickly sweet!

Thank you Jasz and @queentiti72 for beta reading!

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The summer heat was finally coming to an end; the days are still warm and balmy and the nights are just brisk enough for a light sweater. You love the cooler weather but autumn always reminds you of him. You haven’t seen him for almost two years, yet somehow you can still smell him when the weather shifts. He habitually changed scents during seasons, going from a woody, summer coconut to a fresh, citrusy spice. Just like the cozy, autumn air that clings to your skin, you can still feel his embrace during those lazy days when the cool air would blow through the apartment windows.

Your relationship just wasn’t at the right time; he was always tired, never wanting to leave the apartment, and always busy with work. The few days he had off would be spent aimlessly scrolling social media, or catching up with friends. It slowly caused a rift that eventually pushed you away. You never stopped loving him though. He was a sweet person and very affectionate when he took the time to shower you with attention. He just couldn’t balance it all. You never faulted him, instead you blamed the universe, and maybe in another time it could've worked. The relationship ended and you both parted ways on bittersweet terms.

September is the month of cosmos flowers and today you were treating yourself to a stroll through Olympic Park. You slip into a denim blue, button-up blouse half tucked into a long flowy white skirt with blue dalmation print. Finishing the look with white low top sneakers and a cross-body clutch, you head to the train station.

The orange cosmos and pink muhly grass were in bloom and you need to give your eyes a break from all the computer work you’ve been doing. The trails twist and turn along streams and ponds then through fields of colorful flowers and tall grass. You take in all the beauty, snapping pictures here and there, then walk through the center of the pink grass to get the perfect selfie. Finally away from all the tourists, you reach a spot with no one around, you take a deep breath in through your nose and catch the light scent of freshly mowed hay. With your nose in the air you take a few steps forward then you stumble into something and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. Suddenly the aroma strongly changes to something familiar—fresh citrusy spice. You look back to see what you tripped over and there he is staring right back at you, mirroring your wide eyes and frozen in place.

“Jungkook?!”

“YN?!”

He quickly stands and grabs your wrist pulling you up onto your feet. You both wipe at your clothes, dusting any dirt off.

“I’m so sorry, I knelt down to tie my shoe.” He reaches toward you and brushes your hair behind your ear.

You nod your head and ask, “How have you been?”

“Okay, I guess. You?”

“Same.” You’re momentarily hypnotized. He’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. His dark eyes shine under the bucket hat he has on. “Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

“You remembered my birthday?”

“How could I forget?” Your stomach flips at his smile.

“Thank you. You look as gorgeous as I remember.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “You’re not too bad yourself, Jeon.”

“So, what brings you here?” He asks while blushing, never taking his eyes away from yours.

“I needed a break from work. I wanted to get here before the festival starts and brings in more crowds. What about you? It was never really your thing to come to these places.”

“I wanted to try something new.”

“That’s really good you’re doing new things for yourself– or someone?” Suddenly you feel uneasy at the possibility that he may be in a new relationship, doing the things you always begged him to do with you.

“Myself. There is no one else. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, I’m not.” You both fidget in place, your hands roaming to find something to hold, so you grab the strap of your purse and he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Do you think we could catch up? Get a coffee or something? I–I’ve changed, and I’d really like to talk with you.”

“My number hasn’t changed,” you say as you look down at your feet, hoping to hide your rosy cheeks. He pulls out his phone and sends you a text.

“Now you have mine.” He smiles and gestures around to the field of muhly grass. “I came this far off the path to take a selfie.” He laughs.

“Yeah, me too. I guess no one else wants to walk this far.”

“Maybe we can take each other’s pictures?”

“Sure, why not.” You both pose and take photos for each other, surrounded by the beautiful pinkish-red tinted grass.

“Do you maybe want to keep walking around, together?” he suggests after putting his phone away.

“I’d like that. What do you have left to see?”

“I just got here, so everything.”

“Me too.” You look into his eyes and feel like you’re being pulled in by some type of force. Realizing you’re staring, you smile and look away while he chuckles. The attraction between you two is still very much there and you can’t help but wonder if the universe is helping you two find your way again, at the right time.

Continuing along the trails, you both take more photos with orange cosmos that look like pinwheels atop slender stems and silver grass of white and bronze ends weeping toward the ground. You take more pictures on a rainbow bridge, visit the museums, and a musical fountain before realizing you've been walking and talking for hours.

“Are you hungry? I’d love to finish chatting and catching up with you over lunch,” he grabs your hands, “maybe even ice cream too?” Ice cream is your weakness. No matter how full, how sad, or how grumpy you are, ice cream is the answer.

“Lead the way, Jungkookie.” You both smile not only with your lips but your hearts and he holds his arm at an angle for you to snake your hand through the triangular hole, holding onto his bicep while you walk.

You’re sitting in a yakiniku cafe grilling meats and vegetables, catching up on the years and sometimes reminiscing on your past memories. He had some time off and he became aware of his loneliness. He worked hard as a journalist never having time for himself to enjoy life. He’s a little older now, and wiser, which made him reflect on the past and decide to make some changes.

“So I told myself, I needed to go out and have fun and see things. The first thing that came to mind was the place you asked me for months to take you to,” he hangs his head in shame.

“Hey,” you reach out and grab his hand, “it’s okay. The past is the past. I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.” He grasps your hand.

“You have no idea how happy I am that I went today. I didn’t think I’d ever run into you again. It’s like–”

“The universe is giving us a second chance?” you chime in, hoping you’re on the same page.

“Exactly.” You both shyly smile and look at your hands, interlaced together as one.

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Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and soon it’s two months into being together again. Everything started out perfect, like a dream, it was as if Jungkook really did learn from the past and is making sure not to repeat his mistakes. He spends time with you, makes you a priority, and even enjoys fun, new experiences with you.

Laying in his bed with sheets half covering your naked bodies, Jungkook says, “Stay the night. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but you can lock up when you leave. Or we can leave together, I’ll go in later.”

“But if you go in late, you’ll get home late,” you roll onto your side to face him.

“You tell me what you want and I’ll do it, YN,” he smiles and runs his hand softly over your arm.

“What if I said,” you lower your voice and prop yourself on your elbow to whisper in his ear, “I want to make you feel good all night.”

“I would say let’s get it!” he scrunches his nose and smiles, turning his body toward you but you place a hand on his shoulder and gently push him back to laying on his back.

He gasps softly when you graze over his thickening cock. Then whimpers when you wrap your fingers around, squeezing just a little, stroking just a bit. His hips rock as he lets out another mewl. You press your lips against his neck, “I love the pretty sounds you make as I build you up.” His hands snake in your hair and he pulls you in for a kiss. He moans against your lips and you feel his body tremble against yours. You slide a leg across his thighs, taking your place in his lap. You squeeze his shaft and slide him into your wet core perfectly, sinking down until he’s deep inside you.

“Fuuuuck, YN.”

“Mmm you fill me so good, Jungkookie.”

You roll your hips, savoring his soft groans. You lean onto his chest to meet his lips again, sliding to the tip and then back down in long smooth motions. Jungkook whines then cups your breasts as you sway above him, sucking your nipples hungrily. He runs his tongue over your swollen nubs then teases them between his teeth eliciting a sharp hiss from you.

“Am I making you feel good Kookie?”

“You have no idea. I’m about to fucking bust,” he pants into your breasts.

“Cum inside me, fill me with your love.” Jungkook holds your hips down as he thrusts up into you, the squelching sound bringing him to an end. You lick and bite his earlobe while moaning into his ear as he empties inside you.

“That. Was. Fucking. Amazing.” He holds onto you while guiding you over onto your back with his dick still inside you, “I’m going to kiss you until I’m hard again, and then fuck you like a good girl deserves. You we’re so fucking hot for that. Now it’s your turn to feel good.”

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Something changed and this week your emotions are all over the place. Jungkook canceled plans and didn’t have as much time for you, again. You didn’t want to address the elephant in the room but not doing so was slowly and silently eating away at your soul.

You were working from home today and decided to rest your eyes for just one minute but that minute lasted hours as you slept peacefully with the cool air drifting around the apartment. You wake up to gentle kisses along your bare thighs and his hand rubbing your legs.

“You’re here already? What time is it?” you ask while giving a small stretch and reaching for him.

“It’s only 3 p.m. You weren’t answering your phone so I just let myself in.” He leans into your arms and rests his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair.

“Oh sorry. I ended up taking such a long nap. Did you get off work early?”

“No, I came over because you weren’t answering and– I have to tell you something.”

“We’re not going to the lantern festival, are we?”

“I have a deadline that I really need to finish tonight.” Your hand stops at his words as he embraces you tighter.

“Jungkook.”

“I know. I’m so so sorry, I just–it’s a bad time right now with all the holidays and festivals coming up.”

Clearing your throat you repeat, “Bad time?” You move yourself enough to where he gets the hint and frees you from his hold. Now sitting up and facing each other you can talk.

“You know what the holidays are like for me–for journalists.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to write about something after actually going and experiencing it?”

“Please, YN.”

“Please what? You’ve canceled on me twice this week alone. It’s like we’re falling into the same pattern as last time. I can’t do that again. I can’t give you all of me and only get pieces of you.”

“You know how important this season is, please, last chance. After tonight, it won’t happen again. I know it won’t.” He pleads while gripping your hands firm with his.

“You can’t know that.” Your eyes fill with tears and you don’t even try to stop them. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“YN, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. The lantern festival has another week left and–and there’s another place you wanted to go, what was it called?” He’s frantically trying to console you, his hands rubbing your arms then pulling you into a hug, trying to make right of the situation.

“Nami Island,” you respond flatly against his shoulder.

“Yeah, there. We’re going! I promise!” His voice is too cheery for the setting and mood he just evoked. Irritating your core, but you were tired of talking already.

“‘Kay. Sure.”

“We’ll even get ice cream,” he tries to joke and lighten the mood.

You scoff and roll your eyes but can’t help but give a soft smile, “Whatever.”

“You’ll see, YN. You’ll see.” He continues patting your back with one hand and wiping away your tears with the other. Silently promising himself that this would be the last time he made you cry sad tears.

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What you didn’t know was he was making plans. Being with you was everything he wanted after he did some self reflecting. He wasn’t going to mess it up again but the days he had to cancel on you, there was no way around it. The first day he canceled because the jeweler customizing something very special for you took way longer than expected and the rush order needed to be perfect. The second time was a rescheduled meeting with your brother and parents, getting approval for something very special. He took off work and had it set for the morning but your brother had to push it back, causing Jungkook to miss your planned adventure. The last time was because he got the call to pick up your rushed jewelry and the shop would be closing for two weeks. He had to pick it up and cancel on you so as to not ruin his grand plan. He’s disappointed in himself for all the misfortunes that happened but it wasn’t under his control and he can’t tell you, not yet. The universe brought you to him again and he surely wouldn’t mess it up ever again. He knew in his bones that you two were destined by fate.

Jungkook kept his promise and made sure you both made it to the lantern festival, together. He will never forget the way your eyes lit up during the parade at the hundreds of ornate paper lanterns, your favorite lantern being the big, colorful dragon with all its intricate details. The way your body swayed to the music and how you clapped for the folk dance performers that gave their heart and soul to the tradition.

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Nami Island; a place you haven’t visited since you were an adolescent with your family. You have beautiful memories here of various paths lined with sky-high trees, and a wooden riverside walking path with stunning views of the lake and surrounding mountains.

“Jungkook! Let’s ride the couples bike!”

“Anything you want, YN.”

You both set off along the paths, feet perfectly in sync. As you pass pastures of sheep and alpaca you tell Jungkook the memories you have of them when you were younger. You stop at a faded red and teal temple perfectly nestled between tri-color leaves and take pictures.

Jungkook pulls you into him, kissing your forehead, “I hope you’re happy, YN.”

You hum into his chest before saying, “I am, Jungkookie. I am.”

“Do you smell that?” he asks while sniffing the air like a curious puppy.

You can’t help but giggle, “You’re going to love this, let’s go.”

You both hop back on the bike and head in the direction where the smell is coming from. As it gets stronger, Jungkook’s mouth begins to water.

“I smell gochujang! Please tell me we are going to eat whatever smells this good!”

You stop in front of a restaurant that mimics the temple you just saw.

“Welcome to the infamous Nami Island Dakgalbi!” You stand in front of the sign like Vanna White.

“You’re seriously the cutest woman I have ever met,” he wraps his hands around your waist and kisses your cheek.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Jeon.” You poke him in the ribs and grab his hand, leading him into the restaurant.

The perfect crisp weather dish, spicy chicken stir-fried with rice cake and vegetables, is delivered soon after being ordered. The gochujang hits your tongue and the spice stimulates your taste buds causing your mouth to tingle while the sweet flavor cools and soothes soon afterward. Jungkook talks about how the gummy rice cake and crunchy vegetables go together nicely with the sauce and you notice his eyebrows are furrowed, a sure sign he loves it. You want more of these moments with him, forever.

After lunch, Jungkook finds an ice cream shop and you split a flavor since it’s a little chilly and you’re both stuffed from the delicious dakgalbi. You sit on a bench around some cute animal statues to eat the ice cream. After a few bites, you shiver a little and he pulls off the flannel tied around his waist, placing it around your shoulders.

“Thanks. I guess I should’ve brought a heavier outer layer,” you admit.

“Once we get moving, you’ll warm up again. Besides, I don’t need it. It was just to look cute for you.”

“You’re always cute, Jungkookie.” You take the cone and boop his nose with the ice cream. His jaw drops dramatically and eyes widen until his lips and cheeks rise into a deep smile.

“You’ll pay for that!” he jokes playfully, lightly tickling your sides, causing the cone to go crashing to the ground. You both stare at it, then at each other and giggle.

“Whoopsies! That was all your fault though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says playfully, “What’s next on our agenda?”

“My favorite tree path! To the Ginkgo Tree Lane!”

With each pedal of the bike, Jungkook’s heart beats faster. He couldn’t wait to get to your favorite place but more so he couldn’t wait to surprise you. He could slowly see the gold and brown colors ahead.

“Let’s leave the bike here and stroll through the path on foot,” he suggested. You had no hesitation, already in awe of the beauty before you. Jungkook reaches for you and you walk hand in hand through nature. The prehistoric trees lined perfectly on either side of the walkway. Their bushy branches and fan-like leaves meet together above the path creating a tunnel over anything below. The optimal mixture of yellow and orange leaves above your heads and below your feet, crunching under each step.

“Can you believe these trees live for thousands of years?”

“They symbolize longevity or something right?”

“Are you trying to impress me, Jeon Jungkook?” You look at him and place your free hand over your heart.

“I may have read a s—sign or s—something,” his nerves take ahold of his vocal chords.

“Are you cold? Take your flannel,” you suggest, moving to take the shirt off of you.

“No, no! I’m fine now.”

“This place really is beautiful,” you say with your eyes attentively studying the textures and colors of the trees. Jungkook’s eyes are fixated on you though.

“Yes, you really are beautiful,” he replies.

You stop and look at him, “Not me silly, the view! Look at this place. It’s absolutely magical.” You spin around and pull Jungkook’s arms around your waist with your back toward him, “Breathtaking.”

Jungkook takes his hands from around your waist and you shiver at the loss of connection. You turn to face him and he presses his lips to yours, placing both hands on either side of your jaw. Pulling away he says, “YN, I love you more than I can put into words. I want to forever be on this ride of life with you and whatever our destination is,” he doesn’t break eye contact while simultaneously lowering to one knee, pulling out a small box, “I’m ready to start our new chapter.”

“Jungkook!” you shriek and fall into his arms.

“Is that a yes?”

“I love you! Yes, yes! A hundred times, yes!” You sprinkle him with kisses all over his face. He giggles and grabs your hand to place the ring on your finger. He stands both of you up and places his forehead on yours. Your eyes on your newly adorned finger as he admires you.

As if the universe wanted to assure its presence, a soft breeze sweeps through the chestnut tree trunks, sending the vivid amber leaves swirling around you, giving off the appearance of celebration confetti.

#bangtanwritershq #moonleeai writes sometimes #bts fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bts jung jungkook #bangtanwhq #bwhq ficstoric society

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colormepurplex2 · 2 months ago

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I swear, I loved the tension and the opposing thoughts in the beginning. I could feel the drive Jimin had for finding the FMC, and it seemed corded with sexual tension, then the FMC is introduced, and it's clear she's distressed over something and is fearing retribution or negative effects from Jimin. I was so intrigued to find out who had the right of it lol

But then…oh, then, we get to the good part 👀 (spoilers below)

“You didn’t finish.” You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about? Oh, right. “The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.” “No,” he stepped forward. “You.” You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.” “You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.” Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?” “So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

Like PUH-LEASE, the fact that's what Jimin was so worked up over -swoon-

I don't think I can think about the words eat or empty the same again after this 😂 who knew they could be so erotic? This was such a lovely little read, the perfect palette cleanser for my busy and hectic life right now. But also, the visuals in this were superb. This matched the vibe and intensity of Like Crazy so well, but also in the beginning, I got notes of Who by the way Jimin was dressed and approaching the club and stuff. All around, this just embodied so much of Jimin; it was (like) crazy.

SX Seoul Series | Jimin Entry 💜 Like Crazy

GIF by cordiallyfuturedwight

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends.

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step.

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in.

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.”

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss.

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more.

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable.

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again.

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

253 notes · View notes

colormepurplex2 · 2 months ago

Text

Goodness me, the rollercoaster of emotions lol. There is so much push and pull between these characters, it creates great tension. Spoilers below

I've never had a neighbor like this, but I feel like if I did, I would probably be very similar to Gabriella at the beginning of the story. I'm so not a confrontational person. I'd just grit my teeth and hope the neighbor eventually figured out how to be a decent neighbor. I totally get the breaking point, though. At some point, the water is going to boil over, and someone is going to get burned. But, in this case, it seems they both turned into hotheads. JK was definitely out of line when he got snarky and mad at Ella when she finally confronted him. Isn't he the one who said something along the lines of if she ever had an issue with him now? Maybe that's just another point toward his ending argument about her being so much farther 'ahead' than him, more mature to a degree. In the end, it was nice to see that despite him being a pretty inconsiderate neighbor, Ella still had a human response to his situation and invited him into her safety. I think that's the true catalyst for their spark. She let him in, literally and figuratively, and that probably did something to him...nudged him in the right direction to grow up a little maybe.

I'd be interested to know how their relationship progressed from here. Did they combine their efforts and somehow buy the enchanted castle in the woods? 😂 Please tell me that's what happened.

❄️Snowed In❄️

❄️ pairing: non-idol! neighbor jungkook x ofc

❄️ genre/au: angst, smut, annoying neighbor au

❄️ rating: M

❄️ wordcount: 10694

❄️ summary - Gabriella has always worked hard, rigorously devoting herself to studying, building her own company from the ground up, and finally building the first house of many on a private, wooded cul-de-sac. She was comfortable with the neighbors she’d grown relationships with over the last few years, life was still, peaceful, as she’d always dreamt it would be – that is, until he moved in next door. What happens when two annoying neighbors end up trapped together with nowhere to run?

⚠︎ chapter warnings: profanity, graphic seggsual content, alcohol consumption, drunk seggs, ONS, possible regret

S/N: This story was written as part of the A Love Like War Writing Event hosted by Sammi of @bangtanwritershq

I'd like to give a special thanks to @downbad4yoongi for lending me her beta skills and helping me to perfect this story!!! A very special thanks to @bangtanwritershq fellow execs for being my rock and keeping me motivated through all of my trying times!! Yall the real G.O.A.T.'s!!!!!

“Why the silent treatment for over a week? I thought–” Gabriella is abruptly cut off.

“You thought what? We had something special?” The sarcasm rolls easily off of his tongue. “It was nice…no, it was fucking great, but it really doesn’t change anything, does it? You’d been at my throat constantly, one night of passion doesn’t change much.”

“Jungkook, we cleared the air, agreed to let bygones be bygones…are you saying we didn’t?” Irritation radiates in her tone, but Gabriella remains as calm as reasonably possible.

“We were drinking, we were basically trapped together, things happened, but when I woke up the next morning…” Jungkook sighs deeply, “I mean, what do you want me to say? Should we just call it a mistake?.”

“A mistake? Transposing numbers in your address, that’s a mistake. Forgetting to add an ingredient to a recipe, that’s a mistake. Fucking someone the way you fucked me?! That’s not a mistake!”

“Was it that good?” Jungkook teases.

“Was it…Fuck you, Kook! Fuck you! Is everything a damn joke to you? I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!” Anger flows through her blood.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting mad! Did we decide that we’re now obligated to speak to each other because we fucked? No! You’ve been rude to me since I moved in, but now you think we’re besties? It happened, it was phenomenal, but I don’t get why you’re so angry.” Jungkooks usual bright doe eyes become dim.

“I’m mad because…” She’s unable to find the words, unable to express how she really feels deep inside, not anger but hurt. “I opened my doors to you, even though you annoyed the shit out of me, I opened myself to you and now I feel trampled on.”

He sees the tears welling in her eyes, moving his gaze from her to the quiet street, “I’m sorry,” He replies as he stands and walks toward the door, “but that wasn't my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” Her voice breaks, the emotions building within her on the brink of eruption.

With his back turned to her, hand on the storm door handle, he mumbles nearly incoherently, “I don’t know.” He walks into the house, closing the door in her face.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!!”

The bright sun slowly creeps above the large trees surrounding the eastern end of the cul-de-sac. The sound of birds chirping, insects chittering, wind blowing through the leaves of the thick forest create a peaceful ambience – which is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a large vehicle.

Gabriella peers through her large picture window, watching the large moving truck travel down the road and into the driveway of the recently sold home next door. She was sad to see her long-time neighbors and friends leave – but she’s now more interested in who’s moving into their home.

She watches closely as three men exit the front of the moving truck, “When’s the new owner gonna arrive?” She mumbles to herself while admiring the driver.

The men are wearing coveralls, but the driver has the top half down and the arms tied around his snatched waist. He bears a form fitting gray tank top, his chest nearly bursting through the ribbed material, his biceps bulge as he opens the back of the moving van, but the sleeve of tattoos decorating his arm is what catches her eye.

Sipping coffee from her steaming mug, she enjoys the view, as the three men haul furniture and boxes into the once empty home. Dawn becomes high noon, Gabriella finishes a virtual meeting with an overseas client and returns to her chaise lounge nestled in front of her large picture window.

The men appear to be on a lunch break, sitting in the driveway against the garage door, shielding themselves from the sun. Her eyes naturally drawn back to Mr. Tattoo, his hair becoming wavy from his sweat. The cool, mid-March air contrasts with the heat from his body, made apparent by the steam rising from his head. After gulping down the rest of his water, the three men get back to work moving more items from the large truck.

High noon fades as dusk begins to creep in and the men finally carry the last few boxes into the home. Before sitting down to eat dinner, she makes her way to the living room window to draw the curtains closed and that’s when she notices something interesting – only two men leave in the moving van and the tattooed man stands in the driveway waving goodbye.

That’s odd she thinks to herself before walking back to the table to enjoy her meal in peaceful solitude. As she eats she comes to the decision that, per her usual neighborly welcoming duties, she’ll whip up a ready-baked casserole in the morning and bring it to the home as a kind gesture – and to determine if the moving man is still in the home.

Before the sun rises, Gabriella’s in the kitchen putting together her neighborhood block party favorite, no peek chicken, along with instructions on how to cook it. She scours her closet for an outfit, opting for her favorite pinstripe navy slim ankle trousers, white tank top, cropped navy cashmere sweater and a pair of navy block heels. She pins half of her hair up in a neat messy bun and curls the bottom half into loose spirals. She quickly applies the basic makeup – powder, eyeliner, lipstick and lightly dusts her cheekbones with blush. Before heading over she grabs her Versace Bright Crystal perfume, bursting two pumps in the air and walking through to apply it as sparingly as possible.

She grabs the casserole dish from the refrigerator and walks to the window to peek through her curtains, which to her surprise, there’s still not a vehicle in the driveway. Rather than assume things, she opts to believe the new homeowner parked their vehicle in the garage.

She walks out the front door and makes her way to the neighbors house, the butterflies in her stomach dissipate as she approaches the front porch. Before she’s able to knock, the door swings open, revealing a man stretching on the other side of the glass storm door wearing nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

She attempts to set her eyes on anything other than him, however, the familiar tattooed arm captures her attention. Her gaze trails down his arm extended above his head to his perfectly sculpted torso. Just as she’s giving in to the temptation to continue down to the waistband emblazoned with the familiar CK logo, the man clears his throat, averting her attention to his face.

“Can I help you?” He asks running his fingers through his chin length, wavy hair to pull it away from his face.

The brisk air doesn’t stop the sweat from beading above her lip, her knees begin to feel weak and she can’t find the words.

“I’m…Umm, I’m your neighbor, Gabriella. I live next door and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I would’ve stopped by yesterday, but I wasn’t sure if you lived here. Do you live here? Of course you do! What a dumb question! You just opened the door, in your underwear, so this has to be your home. Anyway, I made a ready-bake no peek chicken casserole for you. I wrote the instructions for it, I just figured it would be easier to just throw this in the oven rather than go grocery shopping the day after you move in and I’m so sorry, I’m just rambling away, what’s your name?” She laughs nervously, deep down inside she wants to quickly set down the Pyrex dish and sprint back to her house.

He opens the door, giving her a clearer view of him, “Jungkook, my name’s Jungkook. Nice to meet you, Ella. It’s okay if I call you Ella, right?” She smiles and nods her head. “Thank you for the food. I planned on ordering delivery, but I can tell this’ll taste much better.” He reaches for the dish and shoots her a smile that nearly melts her – a sharp jaw and manly dimples, pearly white teeth, always the first features she notices about a man and he has them. He stares at her with his large doe eyes, still holding the door open, shivering and his teeth chattering.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! It’s cold and I’m holding you up! You’re welcome, and again, welcome to the neighborhood! I look forward to getting to know you!” Without waiting for a response, she quickly turns and leaves his porch making a hasty retreat back to her house.

Once she’s back inside her warm home, warm blood tints her cheeks and she cups her face in her hands. She’s well aware that it’s not from the warmth of the heat flowing through the house, it’s a feeling she hasn’t enjoyed in quite a while – desire.

She can picture his tattooed arm wrapping around her body, pulling her to him as he gazes into her eyes and kisses her aggressively. The way his muscular body would feel on top of hers, skin to skin, as he ravages her sense of reality with his manhood.

Letting out a deep sigh, she laughs to herself, because she knows very well that she has no time to get involved with anyone. Running her company occupies more of her time than she prefers, yet the long-term benefits outweigh a lack of social life. On the other hand, a couple of hours on a night or two getting hot and heavy with her new hot neighbor would be a convenient opportunity to satisfy her needs.

She pushes the thought to the back of her mind, keeping it there for future reference, if the opportunity happens to arise. Gabriella changes into something a little more comfortable, trading the ankle trousers for satin wide-leg pajama bottoms, hanging the cropped sweater back in her closet, and replacing her heels with her favorite pair of Pink slippers.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

After a long day of cleaning, she retreats to her backyard oasis, kindling a small fire in the stone pit and pouring a glass of wine. The wind whispering through the trees in the forest, owls hooting to one another, insects buzzing in the distance are what compose a relaxing atmosphere for her. She can escape the hustle and bustle of a lengthy commute, overlapping chatter at a restaurant and the constant ringing and dinging of her phone when she withdraws to her sanctuary.

She rests her head back against the patterned cushion of the patio furniture and closes her eyes, taking in the melodic singing of nature – until her serenity is interrupted by the loudest bass drop she’s heard outside of a concert.

“What the fuck is that?” She grumbles to herself. Following the sound, she’s led to the side of her yard where Jungkook just moved in. As she nears the fence, she can hear people laughing and talking louder than necessary.

Although it’s rather irritating to have her quiet night interrupted by his party, she decides to not piss and moan, he did just move in and she understands he’s deserving of a housewarming party. Walking back toward the patio, she grabs her wine and heads inside.

“He could’ve invited me.” She pouts on her way into her room. Rather than dwell on the fact that he completely disregarded her kind gesture and left her out, she plays her favorite sleeping playlist and quickly falls into a deep slumber.

Gabriella’s business has been extremely busy, so she’s had to bring boatloads of work home, however finishing her tasks the last few weeks has not been easy thanks to her gradual irritation with her new annoying neighbor, Jungkook.

Every weekend since he’s moved in he’s thrown a huge party, ten to fifteen cars parked around the cul-de-sac every Friday or Saturday, music blasting until just before dawn. This morning was almost the final straw for her when she found a drunken party-goer peeing in between their houses, luckily for the idiot and Jungkook, he came outside and scolded the man for being a pig.

Nevertheless, her patience was wearing thin, but she figures she can give it the old college try and invite him to her holiday barbecue she’s having next weekend. While she assumes he’s still sleeping, she walks over to leave the invite at his front door.

Carefully opening the storm door, she drops the invite in and gently shuts it and attempts to make a quick retreat. Her escape is unexpectedly spoiled by a familiar voice.

“What’s this?” His hoarse voice barely heard through the storm door.

“It’s an invite, I’m having a barbecue next weekend and figured I should extend an invitation to my new neighbor. Just a friendly gesture from me to you.” Her smug tone isn’t as subtle as she thinks it is.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll try to make it, but I don’t usually plan my weekend in advance, I’m more of a go with the flow type of person.”

She can’t help but find her disdain for this man dissipating as she once again ogles over his half naked body. Unlike the first time they met, he’s wearing sweatpants and it’s evident he has nothing on underneath them. Hanging on his hips, her eyes trail from the waistband to the hanging strings, noticing what appears to be the outline of his generously sized member.

Biting her bottom lip, she lets out a sigh, “Well, I hope you can make it. Spring is the perfect time to enjoy the outdoors around here, our summers are short, hot and humid, so it’s difficult to enjoy the outside during those months…think about it and let me know what you like to drink, that is, if you decide to come.”

“Of course…and I want to apologize about the parties. If you ever have a problem, feel free to come over and let me know.” He shoots her that smile and she melts.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.” She lies through her teeth and smiles, nodding her head before walking away.

Back at home, she can’t help but laugh at herself, “What the fuck is wrong with you ‘Oh, it’s no problem at all’ my ass!!! If that man wasn’t so damn attractive I’d give him a piece of my mind!”

Once again, rather than dwell on her obvious desperation to get laid, she gets busy focusing on the last few documents she has to prepare for her meeting with the board of directors Monday morning.

Before the afternoon begins to fade into dusk, Gabriella finishes completing her preparations for Monday morning and settles in her backyard oasis once again. Replacing the wine with tea, she relaxes while listening to the tranquil evening song of the night wind.

Just as she’s about to retreat inside, a familiar voice calls to her, “Ella.” Jungkook’s voice is surprising, almost harmonious with the peaceful night sounds.

“Jungkook, you startled me! I’m surprised to see you in my yard, since there’s not a huge party or anything.” She feels liberated using such a sarcastic tone.

Jungkook giggles, acknowledging he understands her mockery, “I was on my balcony and noticed you sitting out back by yourself. Just coming to say hi as my neighborly duty.”

“Well, if you’d watched a little longer, you would’ve noticed I was heading back inside.”

“Well, I see that now, maybe next time.” He begins to head back toward the open gate.

“Jungkook…” She waits until he turns back toward her, “would you care for a cup of tea?”

“Sure.” He replies nonchalantly and strolls over to her patio.

“Okay, I’ll only be a minute.” She disappears into the house, returning about five minutes later. She hands him his tea and sits on the patio chair across from him, blowing into her mug before taking a sip. “You didn’t have any plans for tonight?”

“I told you earlier, I don’t like to make plans. Today was one of those days I felt like relaxing, so here I am.” He sips his tea, lolling his head back to take in the view of the clear sky as the distant rays from the sun tint the sky with warm orange and soft pink tones . “It’s really peaceful out here. I’m used to living in the city, the hustle and bustle of feet shuffling along the sidewalk, noisy traffic, loud music…but here I’m able to attain serenity.”

“That’s why I chose this cul-de-sac.” Gabriella adds. “It’s…private, quiet and surrounded by nature. Aside from the fact there are only five houses and outside of it, there’s not another property for at least two miles.”

“Five houses?” Jungkook asks in confusion.

“There’s a house on the other side of mine, but you wouldn’t notice it if you don’t pay attention. It’s nestled deep in the woods with a gravel driveway, but it’s covered in leaves. It’s actually a beautiful house, it’s unfortunate it wasn’t for sale when I looked here, because I would’ve bought it.” She sighs and sips her tea.

“I never noticed it. It’s probably so peaceful, I’m sure the trees create a sound barrier.” Jungkook gazes off into the direction of the hidden home as he finishes his tea. “Well, I suppose I should get going. Thank you for the tea, Ella.”

“It was my pleasure,” she replies. “We should do this again, that is, if you feel the need for peace and serenity again.”

“Maybe.” His voice deep and seductive, Gabriella's body responds with a buzz of electricity that raises prickly goosebumps on her arms.

“Don’t be a stranger, we are neighbors after all.”

“I won’t,” he responds before heading back to his house.

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The week passes by in a flash, full of meetings and business dinners, making Gabriella that much more excited for the weekend to finally arrive. She loves holiday weekends and gathering with friends and family, she doesn’t feel so alone – but inside she’s secretly hoping Jungkook will attend.

Gabriella finishes setting up her outdoor oasis to accommodate her guests, gives her home a “once-over”, and prepares to welcome her guests as they arrive.

Car by car, her friends and family arrive, filling the backyard with cheerful banter. Everything seems to be perfect, except for one factor – Jungkook still has yet to show up. Gabriella continuously checks her watch, peeks toward the side of the house and even goes as far as to check out the living room window, all to no avail.

She returns to her guests, pushing back the nagging irritation that began to settle in, that is, until the powerful bass drops from the other side of the fence. Her guests attempt to talk loudly over the music, but she insists they move the party into the house. Once everyone’s inside, she makes her move, slipping away on the side of the house, her adrenaline rushing as she approaches his front door.

She can see him through the storm window, entertaining a woman who clearly came for the attention with her barely there, strapless mini dress. He laughs at whatever the woman is saying, fueling her rage even more and she pounds on the tempered glass.

He excuses himself and begins walking toward the door, flashing that smile that can usually make her melt, but not tonight.

“Oh hey, Ella,” he greets her as he steps out onto the porch. “Did you need something?”

She can’t believe the audacity of this man, not only did he completely ignore her invitation, but he also decided to throw another huge party on the same night as her get-together.

“Oh hey?” She snarls, her blood boiling with each passing second. “It’s one thing if you didn’t want to attend my barbecue, but to throw another fucking party on the same night is pretentious!”

Jungkook smacks his forehead, “Oh fuck! I forgot about it, I swear! A few of my friends from college messaged me the day after I received your invite and let me know they’d be in town. I wanted to come, but I haven’t seen them in a couple of years. I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry?!” She yells heatedly. “I was okay letting you slide with the first eighteen billion parties you had every damn weekend since you’ve moved in, but this right here crosses the line! I work hard every day of the week! Seven days a week! I rarely get the opportunity to unwind with friends and family, this is one of two events I cater at my home every year, and you ruined it!”

“I ruined it?” Jungkook chuckles, “I didn’t ruin shit, you came over here of your own volition, am I right? You left your party to come over here! You ruined your own fucking party! As a matter of fact, I’ll get back to my party where we’re actually having fun, you can go enjoy your stiff ass guests.”

He turns and walks back in the house, making sure to slam the door behind him – now she’s furious.

“Game on, you annoying prick,” she sneers before returning to her home. She goes inside and puts on her game face, continuing to entertain her guests, plotting her next move in her subconscious.

A couple of weeks after her interrupted party, Gabriella sits in the backyard with her college friend, Taeyhung.

“So, how are things with the neighbor after your party duel?” Taehyung jokingly asks.

“It wasn’t a duel,” she scoffs, “I even invited him to the party, but he instead threw a party of his own. He’s so damn annoying, but that’s not what you’re here to talk about.”

Taehyung chuckles, “You’re right, back to business. Did you have a vision for the pool design, or do you trust my artistic instincts?”

“Tae, I know you,” she chuckles softly, “I don’t want anything extravagant. Simple. Elegant. Like me. A basic lap pool, with a seven, no, eight foot splash pad at the top for lounging and a mid-sized hot tub on the opposite end. Simple.”

Taehyung stands, taking a sip of his tea as he looks over her yard. Making a square with his thumbs and forefingers, he searches the yard for the best placement. She loves watching her friend when he transforms into designer mode, his eyes twinkle with excitement and he turns to her with that perfect boxy smile.

“There,” he points to an area of her large yard, “I think that spot would be perfect. There’s no slope, it leaves enough green space to gather outside of the pool and I can envision the beautiful simplicity of the pool.”

“Let’s do it! How soon can you start?” Gabriella shrieks in excitement.

“I’ll get the approval to dig within the next couple of days, this has to start sooner than later, so you can enjoy your pool before the temperature drops. With only eight weeks of Summer here, the pool will be ready for use just a couple of weeks before fall begins.”

“Tae, if it can’t happen until the spring, I’m okay with that. No need to put that much pressure on yourself.”

“It’s no pressure at all. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, I’m even going to add a few upgrades for free.” He winks at her before finishing, “I’m going to make sure it’s heated so the water is always a pleasant temperature, an automatic pool cover and color changing pool lights. You’re my friend and if you hadn’t supported me in the beginning, I don’t know if my business would be this successful.”

“Tae, you really don’t–”

“I do. I’ll add a slide coming from your balcony if you’d like!”

They both laugh and make their way back over to the patio and continue into the night reminiscing on the carefree days of college. As the evening sky begins to fill with stars, they finally decide to call it a night.

“I’ll call you when I get the approval to dig and begin working on your pool immediately, until then, Goodnight Gabriella.”

“Goodnight Tae.”

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With a few weeks left until summer, the digging for her pool and settling of the dirt is ready for concrete to be laid. Gabriella strolls around her future pool, imagining the parties she will have, even able to cater to her family and friends' children, her children one day, she’s enlightened at the thought.

Making her way back to the house, she hears loud machine noises coming from Jungkook's side of the fence. Her curious nature gets the best of her and she heads to the fence, peering through the small gaps in the wood. She can see a small excavator digging in the yard, but what she sees next bothers her the most – Taehyung and Jungkook looking over blueprints.

“What the fuck?” She curses under her breath. “Is he having a pool installed too? Whatever, it’s his property, he can do what he wants.”

Rather than make a fuss, she’s happy Taehyung is getting business and making money, supporting her friend is much more important than her own personal grievances.

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Three weeks into summer and her pool is finally ready for use. She invites her siblings and their children to enjoy the pool. They come nearly everyday for a week, even while she’s at work and nothing could bring her more joy.

She invites some of her closest friends for a swim on the weekend and she’s ready to let loose. After a short dip in the pool they relax on lounge chairs in the splash pad and she gives them the latest update on her annoying neighbor.

“Then this douchebag installs a pool with waterpark amenities! He even has a slide that comes off of his balcony into the pool! If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe he was trying to upstage me every chance he gets, just fucking annoying!” Gabriella rolls her eyes and slams the remaining wine in her glass.

“Listen, Gabs, don’t fret yourself with the likes of that man! He’s clearly trying to overcompensate for his shortcomings, if you know what I mean.” Her best friend, Jisoo, laughs hysterically at her own joke.

“Ji, I don’t think he has any shortcomings in that department, more of just an immature outlook on life…one that irks my very being, but I’ll just continue to brush him and his childlike ways off.”

Their conversation is cut short by the sudden loud music coming from Jungkook’s yard, “So this is what you’re talking about,” Jisoo scoffs. “How the fuck are we supposed to relax poolside with–” Her eyes widen as she stares over the fence.

Gabriella follows her gaze and sees her neighbor, completely naked – and clearly well endowed – at the top of his slide. She can’t tear her eyes away from his body as the setting sun tints his sun-kissed skin with a pink glow, but as much as she’s enjoying this view she’s also filled with rage.

“That’s fucking it!” She immediately rises from her chair and runs to her neighbors to really give him a piece of her mind.

She bypasses the front door and heads to the other side of his house, opening his gate and running to the backyard just as he launches from the slide into the pool. To her surprise, he’s alone, but that’s not what’s important.

“Jungkook!” She screams his name as he emerges from the water, startling him and he just smiles.

He swims to the shallow end of the pool and gets out, quickly grabbing his towel and loosely wrapping it around his waist.

“Ella! I can turn the music down, I didn’t even realize you were in your pool.” He smiles as he gives her exposed body a once over. She feels naked having chosen the skimpiest thong bikini she has, clearly not expecting to meet him like this.

“I don’t give a shit about the music, I’ve become immune to it.” She snarls, “What I’m concerned about is the fact that you decided to come out onto your balcony in your birthday suit.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable or maybe it made you hot and bothered?” He jokes.

“I…ugh, fuck no! What if my nieces and nephews were over again to swim? Did you think about that? There are families in this neighborhood and your balcony is viewable from both backyards on either side of your house! You really need to grow the fuck up!”

She storms off without another word and returns to her friends. They don’t say a word, but they’ve heard everything she’s said. They suggest moving the party into the house and to put this incident behind her in hopes that he’s learned his lesson and it won’t happen again.

Gabriella has spent most of the summer enjoying her pool and fall is beginning to settle in, luckily Taehyung installed a pool heater. It’s quite refreshing to leave the cool night air and blanket herself in the security of the warm water. Stepping out of the pool and back into the cool air is exhilarating.

Hurrying back into the house, she changes into warm, dry clothes and relaxes in her chaise lounge after her tea finishes steeping. While looking out at her front yard, she realizes it’s in desperate need of landscaping.

She contacts a well-known landscaping company and schedules an overhaul of her yard – removal of all dead and dying plants, shrubbery upgrade from the dried up sprinter boxwood to Korean Spice Viburnum, petunias planted under the large weeping willow and a Tiered Versailles Fountain surrounded by winter boxwoods.

She excitedly hangs up the phone and begins picturing how lavish, yet classic and simple her yard will be. It’s been a few years since she last had the landscaping done, so it’s time for a change anyway

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After a week of waiting, her new landscaping was underway. They’d installed the fountain first, as it was the most difficult portion of the design, and now they’re beginning the removal process of the old shrubbery and plants.

Once the yard work is finished, she thanks the workers and takes pictures to send to her best friend. In five years, she’s gone from a small business owner to one of the largest conglomerates in the Northern United States.

Gabriella is proud of herself, proud of the woman she’s become – independent and carefree. Yet, the loneliness she’s begun to feel over the last year is almost too much to bear.

“Maybe that’s why I tolerate the gorgeous, annoying fucker next door,” she grumbles to herself.

The last relationship she was in ended abruptly and she promised herself that the next man would be the type to appreciate a successful woman. However, she wasn’t so sure that Jungkook was that type of man either.

Why is he so competitive? She ponders. Whatever his reason, he’s still a douchebag.

She pushes her inquisitive thoughts to the back of her mind and returns inside to her home office to finalize a proposal. Oftentimes she feels as if her work never ends, that she’s drowning without water, nevertheless, in the end it’s all worth it. She always emerges above water and becomes stronger.

She’s exhausted from everything and goes straight to bed, allowing her pillow to absorb all of her worries.

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The next morning she stands at her kitchen island, sipping her coffee and checking her emails. There's a commotion outside and her first thought is that Jungkook is up to something.

She heads to the picture window and can’t believe what she’s seeing, “This motherfucker!” She rushes out the front door wearing only a satin robe and a short slip underneath.

Jungkook stands with his back facing her in his driveway, directing the landscaping company, “Move it that way about four feet and away from the house another two to three feet!”

“Jungkook!” Gabriella screams, startling him a bit.

He whips around, “Ella! You scared me! What brings you out here…dressed like that?” Once again he looks her up and down, admiring her curves as she realizes what she’s wearing and pulls the satin robe tightly around her body.

“It’s one thing to upgrade your landscape, but to go so far as to put that over-the-top marble statue fountain is a little much. I’m not saying you can’t have a fountain, but this is excessive?”

Jungkook laughs heartily, “I wasn’t aware that there was a limit to the type or size of fountain I could have installed in my yard. I didn’t see that in the neighborhood handbook?”

“My friends were right…” She snarls, “You must be overcompensating for your shortcomings.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” Jungkook snaps back, his cocky tone infuriates Gabriella.

“I wouldn’t fuck you with a pocket pussy!” A downright lie was the only comeback she could gather in that moment.

“Yeah, okay. Well…” He pauses and smiles at her with confidence, because he knows as well as her that he’s won this argument, “if you don’t have anything else, I’m fairly busy right now, doing what I want on my property. Have a great day.”

“Rrgh,” she growls in defeat as she watches him walk away. Deep down, she wishes they could just get along – but is he really the problem?

Two months have passed, aside from the occasional eyerolls or flipping each other off, neither of them have spoken a word to one another. Gabriella could care less, winter is settling in swiftly, the sub-freezing temperatures have chilled her, literally.

Winter there can be brutal, the numbing cold is only a small portion of the savage climate – it’s the unpredictable blizzards that create the utmost danger.

Fortunately, Ella has lived in this private cul-de-sac for three years and she experienced a monstrous blizzard the first year she lived here. After being stuck in her house for nearly two days without electricity, she made the logical decision to have a state-of-the-art generator installed for emergency purposes.

As she waits for the generator technician to finish the yearly maintenance and test run on her generator, a thought crosses her mind – Jungkook's house doesn’t have a generator.

She laughs at her naivety, because he could probably care less about her well-being, so why should she give two fucks about his. Just then, the tech knocks at her patio door, letting her know he’s finished everything.

“You’re good to go. This generator will last you at least 30 more years, having the shed built to keep it safe from all weather conditions was a smart move. Honestly, more homeowners should do that.”

“I definitely did my research before purchasing this model, so I figured that would be the easiest way to keep it intact. Well, thank you so much! Have a great day and keep warm, it’s getting cold out here!”

Gabriella bundles up with blankets on the sofa, enjoying a mug of hot cocoa and browsing through the television channels. Across the bottom of all local channels is the same message – Blizzard Season.

Last year was the same, although it wasn’t as bad as the first and second year, she still gets nervous at the thought. After much consideration, she’d made the executive decision to have all employees work from home for the next three weeks. She isn’t willing to risk anyone having an accident or being stranded at the office, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Over the next week, other than below zero wind chill, there hasn’t been a snowflake in sight. However, that soon changes as the forecaster predicts a snow storm with expectations of twelve or more inches, beginning tonight around 10:00 PM.

She prepares herself for the worst, immediately heading to the store and stocking up on hand warmers, bottled water, candles, flashlight batteries, thick socks and gloves and gas for her snowblower.

As she arrives back to her house, the flurries have begun and she knows this is the “calm” before the storm. As she waits for her garage door to open, she glances over at Jungkook’s house, wondering if he’s prepared for the storm. For a moment, she thinks about being the bigger person and letting him know if his situation goes south he can come to her house. She knows the previous owners didn’t bother having a generator installed, since it was just a summer home for them it wasn’t necessary. Just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, she dismisses it and pulls into the garage.

“If he needs my help, he can come and ask for it since he’s such a big man.” Instantly, all of the agitated feelings she had before rush back. Once inside the house she takes a couple shots of warmed brandy to ease the tension and soothe her chilled bones.

A couple of hours pass and the severity of the storm intensifies. As she peers out the picture window, the snow is a thick blanket on the ground, drifting snow has gathered down the dark road leading out of the cul-de-sac in mounds nearly four to five feet high and visibility is limited through the falling flakes.

She glances over at Jungkook’s house and notices his lights are still on, not that she cares, but she does feel a bit of relief. Even though she loathes the man, she doesn’t want him freezing to death, because they can’t get along. Going against her own best judgment, she decides that, in the event he loses power, she’ll extend the olive branch and invite him to her house.

Just as she’s about to settle on the sofa and check the news the wind and snow pick up, the eye of the storm has arrived and it’s only going to get worse from here. Rather than worry herself, she turns on her relaxation playlist and slowly drifts to sleep.

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A few hours pass and she wakes up to a frightening scene outside of her window – the street lights are either off or the snow’s so thick she can’t see them. She checks her generator on the interior monitor and sees that the autostart has engaged. Quickly running to her window she strains to see Jungkook’s house, from her view it seems to be pitch black, until she notices a faint light passing by a window.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath. On one hand, she can’t stand the fucker and doesn’t want to travel through the deep snow to offer her help. On the other hand, her humanity is telling her she has to at least attempt to help him. “If he says no, I’m not going to beg him.”

She quickly throws on a pair of thick socks, her snow pants and boots, winter coat and gloves, grabbing a flashlight and hand warmers before walking out of her front door and making the treacherous trek to his house. Her cheeks burn from the frosty wind and she immediately regrets leaving the house without her scarf.

After what felt like an eternity she’s at his front door, banging loudly, not out of worry, but because she wants to get shelter from the wind. She sees a candle through the window and then the door opens. Jungkook lets her in, wearing jogging pants and a sweater with a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s deadly out there!” Jungkook scolds her.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? It’s freezing in here, I take it you lost power?” She asks sincerely.

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here with a candle and you definitely wouldn’t have come to check on me.” He laughs heartily.

“How can you joke at a time like this?” Her frustration builds up, “People die in these types of situations!” She’s shaking with anger.

“Calm down, I was just joking,” his tone comes off timid, very unlike his usual cocky persona.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come to start an argument, I came to tell you that if you wanted to, you’re more than welcome to take shelter at my house until it’s safe to return to your house.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, but I also don’t want to freeze to death.” His doe eyes pout at her, “But how do you still have power?”

“I’ll explain when we get to my house, now go and pack some dry clothes and pajamas, bring enough clothes for at least a couple days. Only because it could take them a day or two to get the electricity back up and running. There’s no need to run back and forth until then.” She nods for him to hurry. Jungkook scurries off into the darkness and comes back a bit later with a duffle bag following her out the front door and back to her house.

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JK changes into dry clothes and returns to the living room, still toweling his hair dry and drops onto the sofa on the opposite end from her. His long, wavy locks fluff up around his face, his biceps flexing with each scrub and she can’t help but stare.

“It’s crazy how different your house is from mine,” he says, his eyes gazing up at the vaulted ceiling, “My ceiling is high, but yours appears massive.”

“This isn’t an HOA, when the homeowners built their houses they were given free range to choose whatever style fit their taste. My house is nothing, the first house on the left is like a castle! There’s marble flooring throughout the entire place!” Her eyes sparkle as she talks about it, her small interior design business grew into one of the largest architecture firms solely based on her designs and visions.

“Your house is pretty awesome, I mean, mine is decent, but the interior in mine is a bit outdated?” His face reddens with embarrassment.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” she jokes. “I had to update a lot of this home when I purchased it! I felt like the 80’s smashed into the 90’s when I first viewed this home, but I could see it had potential.”

“I’ll definitely need to update mine once the weather warms up and I hear there’s a well-known interior designer in the neighborhood.” He grins at her softly and she begins to see a different side of him.

“Well, maybe she can find time in her tight schedule to go over some ideas and get a little inspiration from that homeowner.” She replies coyly.

“If you don’t mind, can I have a tour? Maybe I can get some design inspo from this beautifully designed home?” His tone is curious and flirty.

“Of course, where would you like to start?”

“I typically like to start from the bottom and work my way up.” Jungkook asserts provocatively.

Gabriella’s cheeks warm with bashfulness as she forces herself not to smile. Instead, she heads to the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine, “Care for a glass?”

A half-grin forms on his face and he nods his head in acceptance. She pours the wine and slides his glass across the island, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

She walks toward the basement entry and he follows in stride, unable to admire the architecture with her tiny waist and round ass in front of him. He’s only had tiny glimpses of her perfect frame considering most of their encounters end in arguments, but tonight he’s going for a different approach.

Jungkook can’t deny the fact that he was captivated by her the moment he first laid eyes on her, since then he’s realized his approach to get her attention wasn’t going to work. He could tell she saw him as a man, nevertheless, he deciphered his body wasn’t the key to get him any closer to her.

Everytime she was near him, he wanted to pull her body close to his, his large hand on the small of her back, their lips meeting, flesh to flesh, but the opportunity never arose. Even when she was angry and yelling at him, he found himself turned on, desiring her even more.

As she talked about the different areas in her basement, like her art studio, music studio and design room, all he could think about was laying her petite body on multiple surfaces.

“I know your house already has a media room in the basement, but there’s definitely room to expand it.” She turns to see Jungkook in a daze, obviously not hearing a word she’s said. “Your cheeks are a bit rosy, can’t handle the wine?” She teases.

“Huh?” His daze is broken, “Oh, no, I can handle my liquor, I was just thinking of different ideas for my…basement.”

“Well, I think expanding the home theater would be great, you’d definitely spend more time there…rather than outside.”

“About that,” his voice timid again, “Sorry about being so annoying. It’s just my first home and I wanted to enjoy the first year as much as possible, before life gets in the way.”

“I get it. When I first bought this house five years ago, I think I partied nearly everyday for the first few months! I mean, my parties weren’t as wild as yours and I made sure that after a certain time we moved into the house, but I understand. No explanation necessary.” She smiles and nods for him to follow her back upstairs, grabbing the wine from the kitchen they get comfortable on the floor in front of the fireplace.

A couple of bottles later, “While I attended Cornell University's Architecture program, I did interior design on the side. I had to pay for as much of the tuition after aid that I could, I didn’t want to finish college in debt. My network grew and by the time I finished college, I’d traveled to so many states doing interior design just from word of mouth. I was able to expand the small business I started from interior design to include architecture.”

“That’s pretty fucking awesome and an accomplishment worth bragging about. Cheers to Ella and her successful life she’s manifested!” They clink their glasses together and their eyes meet.

Never did the thought cross her mind that she’d be sitting on her living room floor, enjoying a conversation with Jungkook. The more she learns about him, the more intrigued she becomes by his mysteriousness.

“Enough about me, what about you? I know you own the largest moving company in the United States, how did you begin?” She finishes her wine and fills her glass, emptying the third bottle.

“I’ll grab another one,” he suggests, quickly heading to the kitchen and bringing back a bottle. After filling his glass again, he begins, “I came from a normal family, nothing glamorous or spectacular, just a blue collar working father and a part-time waitressing mother. As the youngest of four, I always felt forgotten about, which for most people leads to bad decisions. Instead, I focused on school and getting into college, I wanted to make my parents proud…I wanted them to notice me.” Tears well in her eyes as she listens to the raw, pure emotion in his voice.

“I maintained a 4.0 GPA throughout high school, senior year the offers were pouring in, but none of the colleges piqued my interest. I began applying to schools like Harvard, Yale, Columbia, major ivy league universities and a couple of them responded, but I realized the tuition was beyond my reach even with aid. I was about to give up, when I received an offer from Stanford University. A full-ride scholarship, but I had to write a full scale business plan in order for further consideration. While finishing high school, I switched one of my electives to an AP Business Class, where I quickly learned how to prepare a successful business plan.”

“What made you choose a moving company?” Gabriella questions, fully invested in his climb to success.

“I knew I wanted to run my own business and many ideas crossed my mind, but I also wanted it to be a business that benefited blue collar workers, like my dad. That’s when I decided on the moving company. We not only would provide pick-up and drop-off, we’d also provide storage for those that have sold their current home and were waiting to get into a new home or for it to be built. Before going to college, my parents had a going away party, since I didn’t get a graduation party. At the end of the night, after everyone left, they sat me in the living room and handed me a bank book. From the time I was born, until I left for college, they’d saved $100 a week, over $93,000, for me. I took a small portion of that money and bought a moving truck and started a small moving business, just to continue adding to the money. By the time I graduated college, my business had already expanded throughout the state of California, I had over twenty moving trucks and 80 employees. I guess you can say we both succeeded in the same fashion, from pure drive and motivation.”

“Fucking amazing!” She cups her mouth in embarrassment after she yelled out drunkenly.

Jungkook laughs, “Well, I think you’re pretty fucking amazing too.” Sincerity in his tone awakens something inside of her. She leans forward and kisses him on his soft lips, she quickly pulls away, but his arm wraps around and brings her face within centimeters of his. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this moment.” Desperation and desire explode as their mouths part and tongues meet, a warm explosion of want and need. Their hands touch and explore each other's warm bodies, yearning for more with each caress, but Gabriella breaks away from the kiss.

“Slow down, we’ve got time, neither of us is going anywhere anytime soon.” She points toward the window, where the since forgotten snow storm is still bearing down ruthlessly just beyond the glass. She stands up and reaches her hand out for him to grab, “Let me finish giving you the tour.”

He rushes to his feet and follows behind her, unable to keep his hands to himself, he gently backs her up against the wall halfway up the stairs. Lifting one of her legs, he lowers himself enough to grind against her warm core. His mouth is unable to stay in one place as his lips meet her neck, then her collarbone, until he gently nibbles at her erect nipple through her satin top.

The mix of pain and pleasure rushes from her nipple to her overstimulated cunt as his hard cock rubs against her clit through his pants. The sound of her moans hastens his needy instinct, his hips rotate in a frenzy until the crotch of his once light gray sweats are dark and wet with their juices.

She can’t hold back any longer, pulling the waist of his pants down and sliding the short satin shorts to the side, longing to feel him inside of her. Grabbing his thick cock with her tiny hand, she places it between her slick lips, “I need to feel you, become one with you, please,” she begs as her demand for pleasure intensifies.

His lips kiss her softly and he gently inches into her, feeling the stretch of her untouched walls the deeper he ascends. Gripping him tight, he focuses on pleasing her, fighting the urge to paint her walls with his sticky nectar.

He lifts her other leg and she wraps around him, hugging him tightly as he grips her ass and begins to stroke methodically in and out of her. She nibbles at his lobe, before burying her face into his neck, leaving marks of passion. He begins to feel her walls pulsate and a rush of warmth as she reaches her peak, slowing his stroke until she’s finished.

Lowering her shaking legs, his hooded eyes dark and burning with a fiery passion, she begins to lead him up the stairs, but he isn’t quite done. He leans up against her backside, lowering her onto the stairs and position her ass in the air. He easily slides back into her slick opening, spreading her cheeks as he pounds into her relentlessly, her body trembling as she quickly reaches another high. He pulls his cock out, stroking it slowly to keep his momentum going, but she lays there spent and needing a moment.

Jungkook effortlessly rolls her over and scoops her petite body into his arms and carries her to the top of the stairs, “Which way to your room?” She points down the long corridor to double glass doors and he wastes no time taking her there.

He enters the large master suite, her bed lies in the center of the room, a king-sized canopy with sheer drapes hanging on all four sides. He moves one of the soft curtains aside and places her on the edge of the bed, lowering to his knees and spreading her legs, his warm, soft tongue flicks gently at her sensitive nub.

The jolt of pleasure brings life back to her nearly limp body and she reaches her hands to grip her fingers in his wavy hair. He pushes her hood back and his mouth engulfs her clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue. She rolls her hips, fucking herself with his mouth, creating a buzz of electricity as she cums on his chin.

She scoots back on her bed and motions for him to join her. He frantically lifts his shirt over his head and steps out of his jogging pants, crawling to her, kissing her body as he makes his way up, settling his hips between her thighs.

Gabriella has other plans in mind as she wraps her legs around him and rolls them over, positioning herself on top. He reaches up and cups her plump breasts, kneading her nipples as she lowers herself onto his stiff member.

She slowly slides up and down his shaft, his toes curling as he tries to fight his high. Her sliding shifts to bouncing, her own desperation to cum again takes over her entire being. Jungkook can see the neediness in her eyes, gripping her hips and holding her steady, he begins to thrust upward into her.

He penetrates her and stops, hurriedly rolling her onto her back and pushing her legs to her shoulders, hovering his face within an inch of hers before continuing the savage pounding. Their harmonious moans and the squelching of their mixed juices pushes them both over the edge. They never break eye contact as their peaks meet one another, like a volcano erupting he fills her with his warm cum, sweat dripping from his face, soaking the comforter beneath her.

He finally lowers himself on top of her, spent, his stamina needing a recharge. She pulls the throw blanket from the end of the bed and tosses it over them as Jungkook slides to her side, she rolls over and scoots her ass against him, pulling his arm over her as they drift to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Gabriella wakes up with a slight headache, but the feeling of Jungkook’s warm, sleeping body next to hers is settling, relaxing enough to ease the pain just a bit. She attempts to get up and his arm tightens around her body, “Just a little longer, please.” His pouty voice almost wins her over.

“As much as I’d love to stay here like this, we need some coffee and I need to check the status of the electricity in the neighborhood.” He lets out a long sigh, before giving in, throwing the blanket from his naked body and stretching his limbs.

She gets up from the bed and admires all of the glory that is Jeon Jungkook, the man she once loathed, has now become the object of her affection…or desire. Whatever he may become, last night will be a memory she keeps nestled away for a long time.

She heats up the water and begins making the drip coffee, before checking her phone. Just as Jungkook makes his way into the kitchen, her phone rings.

“Hello?...Okay…Well that’s a good thing and very fast…I’ll go check on my neighbors since the street’s still inaccessible…Stay warm and have a good day…goodbye…”

She hangs up and pours their coffee, “The electricity is restored, so you’ll be able to go home, that is, whenever you’re ready.”

“I think I’ll stay for a bit, if that’s okay with you.” She smiles and they enjoy coffee and a small breakfast together. He leads her to the guest bathroom and they shower together, put on lounging clothes and lay together on the sofa until they fall asleep watching TV.”

Gabriella wakes up just as the sun’s setting, but Jungkook isn’t next to her. She gets up and looks out the window at his house and sees the lights are on, her heart begins to feel a little heavy, but she knows it was probably just a one time occurrence and won’t happen again.

She walks into the kitchen to get a glass of water and notices a piece of paper on the island under his coffee cup:

“Ella,

I’m not sure what to say, but I know I want to say ‘Thank You’.

I don’t know if I would’ve survived the night alone in my house, even after everything we’ve been through, you still offered me a safe haven, and I appreciate you for that.

Where we go from here, who knows, but let’s not make things awkward, we can go back to the way things used to be (minus the arguing) and start on a new foot, fresh, being normal neighbors.

I owe you for everything, and I mean everything.

Jungkook”

She’s not sure how to feel, she wants to scream and cry from shame. She wants to run over to his house and tell him how she feels, tell him that she doesn’t want to be normal neighbors, that she wants more.

However, she knows she’ll do neither, she’ll accept things as they are and continue living her life like she has been – accepting the loneliness.

It’s been over a week since that night and they haven’t argued, in fact, they haven’t spoken to each other either. Gabriella has returned back to her busy work schedule, so it’s been a little easier to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut.

Friday evening, as she returns from work, Jungkook is sitting on his front porch. She wonders if he’s waiting for her, so rather than pull in the garage, she parks in front of it. She hopes he’ll call out to her and she’ll run over there eagerly, but he doesn’t, he sits and stares at his phone, not even a glance in her direction.

Gabriella finally loses it, she can’t take the unknown, she needs to figure out what’s going on and why he hasn’t spoken to her in over a week. She silently storms over, determined to speak her mind and get things off of her chest.

“Why the silent treatment for over a week? I thought–” Gabriella is abruptly cut off.

“Jungkook, we cleared the air, agreed to let bygones be bygones…are you saying we didn’t?” Irritation radiates in her tone, but Gabriella remains as calm as reasonably possible.

“Was it that good?” Jungkook teases.

“Was it…Fuck you, Kook! Fuck you! Is everything a damn joke to you? I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!” Anger flows through her blood.

He sees the tears welling in her eyes, moving his gaze from her to the quiet street, “I’m sorry,” He replies as he stands and walks toward the door, “but that wasn't my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” Her voice breaks, the emotions building within her on the brink of eruption.

With his back turned to her, hand on the storm door handle, he mumbles nearly incoherently, “I don’t know.” He walks into the house, closing the door in her face.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!!” She screams inside, but her pride can’t let him know how weak he’s made her.

Gabriella is livid, she wants to smash his windows, take a sledgehammer to his fountain, but instead she trudges back to her house in pure defeat. He fooled her, he played the role he needed to that night to get in her pants, got what he wanted and now she’s just another notch on his belt.

She slams her door causing the entry table to rock and her treasured vase to fall and shatter to the floor. Her overwhelming emotions tip over the edge and the tears stream down her face. She feels used, stupid, unworthy and unwanted, all because of her annoying ass neighbor, Jungkook.

She’s about to grab the broom when there’s a knock at her door. She isn’t expecting any guests, but when she opens the door, she’s frozen with shock.

“Fuck! I don’t even know why I’m here!” Jungkook stands there winded and sweaty, wearing only a tank top, basketball shorts and slippers, “I just know that I’m sorry. I’m not sure how to do this relationship shit! You’re the first woman I’ve ever longed for, desired, the few others I’ve been with were nothing to me, just something to do, but you…you’re special.” The tears run down his rosy cheeks as he shivers from the cold.

Gabriella quickly opens the door, “Come inside. Why would you come here dressed like that?” She ushers him to the fireplace and wraps the throw blanket around his shoulders.

“I just don’t want to get left behind by you, you’re older, you’ve experienced more in life that I haven’t yet. I don’t want you to get bored with my curiosity, my interests, with all of the things you’ve already done that I have yet to tap into.” He sobs. “I don’t want to be the forgotten child again. Isn’t that how you view me? The immature, annoying guy from next door?”

Gabriella smiles, “From the day I met you, I viewed you as a man. Yes, you did shit that drove me insane, but at the same time, deep down, it made me want to get to know you even more. Now that I’ve gotten a glimpse into you, the real you, I want more. I would never get bored with you, you keep me on my toes, keep me striving for more out of life, more out of you.”

Jungkook sniffles and wipes his face with his shirt, “Then where do we go from here?” He looks up at her with his large, brown doe eyes.

“I don’t know where we go from here, but wherever we go, let’s go together.”

43 notes · View notes

colormepurplex2 · 5 months ago

Text

This is such a beautifully and artfully portrayed story. Not only can I see the lights, but I can also hear the hubbub of the city. It's such vivid imagery and captivating to the last detail.

The rules may be simple, but the love here is anything but. There is nothing quite like two opposing forces clashing with the powers of both heaven and hell.

With that said, spoilers below!

Perched on the brink of rebellion, the city quakes beneath a moonlit sky. Whispers of divine punishment swirl in the air, a constant reminder of the consequences for defying heaven's orders. Jimin feels his heart tremble as he gazes at his celestial flames, their once radiant white glow now tinged red with fear and doubts. He wants to retreat to the safe, sterile world of angels but cannot suppress the fiery longing that burns within him.

This is what I'm talking about when it comes to the decadent painting with words that Jasz has developed. It's a top-tier production that hits all the senses and sets them ablaze like wildfire.

While their journey will be fraught with danger, heartbreak, and moments of doubt, their love will be their anchor.

There is so much left unsaid while saying everything all at once, at the same time, with this ending. Such a wonderful read, so beautiful.

Fall from Grace

🤍Pairing: Demon!Jin x Angel!Jimin 🤍WC: 5,058 🤍Genre/warnings: angel and demons au, betrayal, smut, fluff

🤍Rating: R

🤍Summary: The rules for angels and demons are simple and straightforward, and can be summed up as: don’t interact.

A/N: This story is part of BTS Fests' Angels & Demons Fest!

Thank you to my betas: @colormepurplex2 and @moonleeai. Many hugs to @colormepurplex2 for my banner.

A Flicker in the Twilight

The twilight hums with the city’s heartbeat. Neon gods of advertisement pulse against the fading sky, casting a garish glamor on the throngs below. Lost in the kaleidoscope of chrome and flesh, Jin savors the symphony of human anxieties. They pulse through him, a delectable chaos dancing on his tongue. It is like the finest wine, this mortal cocktail – intoxicating, unpredictable, infinitely more thrilling than the bland ambrosia of his celestial past.

Leaning against the side of a building, Jin, once a grotesque tapestry of shadow and bone, now shimmers with angelic grace, courtesy of a botched mission and a particularly potent curse. He revels in the dissonance, the whispers of his true nature tickling the edges of his angelic façade. Humans, constantly oblivious to the storm brewing inside him, mistake his charm for benevolence, his mischievous grin for a divine smile. He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a predator in a sanctuary of light.

He twirls a strand of hair as he watches the countless hordes of faceless humans stride past him. Humans, like fireflies, flit across the avenues, their souls like flickering flames. Most hold no interest, their predictability a dull ache in his immortal boredom. But then, a glint of pure, celestial light catches his eye. An angel, disguised in the borrowed flesh of a human youth, stands on the corner adjacent to him, radiating an aura as vibrant as a sunrise. He watches on as the angel, resplendent even in the mortal flesh, navigates the human tide with an awkward grace.

Jimin's name echoes in Jin’s mind, a whisper plucked from the supernatural airwaves. Jin cocks his head, watching the celestial, discerning that he is a novice. Jimin is inexperienced, a wide-eyed fawn in a wolf’s den.

Jimin’s innocence is like virgin snow, pure and untainted, waiting to be imprinted with the dark designs of Jin’s twisted amusement.

The perfect game piece.

A thrill dances through Jin like a lightning bolt, not the usual hum of predatorial amusement, but something altogether sharper, more intoxicating. A mischievous curl creeps onto Jin’s lips. With a practiced grace, that has been honed from centuries of deception, he weaves through the throng, the city lights glinting off his unseen wings.

“Lost, little lamb?” Jin’s voice, honeyed and smooth, cuts through the city’s cacophony.

Jimin turns, his cognac eyes widening in surprise. The golden rays emanating from his disguised form cast an ethereal glow across the chaotic street. But it is the darkness, a whisper hidden in the depths of his gaze, that draws Jin in. A flicker of rebellion, a crack in the otherworldly armor.

Jimin, drawn by a force he can’t comprehend, steps closer. The aura around Jin, a faint hum of darkness, should send him fleeing. Yet, he finds himself drawn deeper, a curiosity eclipsing his fear, curiosity over encountering another being like himself.

“N-no,” Jimin stammers, adjusting his borrowed human form with self-conscious fiddling. “Just…observing.”

Jin chuckles. “Observing the fascinating creatures of this earth, are we?” Jin offers a hand. “Well, allow me to offer some guidance. I know these streets better than any moonbeam.” This isn’t just amusement anymore. This is a challenge, a dance on the precipice of forbidden desire.

Jimin hesitates, the wings under his human guise rustle like whispered prayers. Then, with a sigh that ruffles the city air, he takes the offered hand, his fingers brushing against Jin’s with a spark that sends shivers down the demon’s spine.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathes, his gaze lingers on Jin for a beat too long, a whisper of starlight battling the celestial fire in his eyes.

The walk through the bustling city offers a motley of sights and smells for Jimin. Jin, his guide and tormentor in equal measure, navigates the throngs with practiced ease, a picture of casual charm. Jimin, on the other hand, is a clumsy swan in a human pond, his borrowed skin prickling with unease.

“So, earth delights you?” Jin asks, his voice a silken thread woven through the city’s hum.

Jimin blushes, his celestial aura flickering like an overeager candle. “It’s…overwhelming,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper. “So much chaos, so much life.”

Jin chuckles a rich, dark sound that resonates in Jimin’s chest. “A chaos that dances to its own rhythm, wouldn’t you say?” He stops abruptly, his eyes glinting with an amusement that sends a tingle down Jimin’s spine. “Does it resonate with you, little angel?”

Jimin’s wings twitch under his borrowed skin. He knows he shouldn’t linger, and he can sense that there is more to Jin than he sees. Yet, Jin’s presence is a maelstrom he can’t seem to resist.

“There’s something…” Jimin begins, his voice barely a sigh. “A spark in this chaos, a warmth that draws me in.” He meets Jin’s gaze, the astral fire in his eyes battling the forbidden embers that flicker there.

Jin’s smile deepens, a knowing curve that sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine. “Ah, the forbidden fruit, angel. Sweetest when plucked from the branches of danger.” He leans in, his breath a whisper of brimstone against Jimin’s ear. “But remember, little one, even the most tempting fruit can leave a bitter taste.”

Jimin’s heart hammers against his ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a gilded cage. The spark in Jin’s eyes, the warmth of his touch, draws him in like a moth to a flame.

“I…I don’t care about the consequences,” Jimin whispers, his voice barely a tremor. “I only know that this moment, this feeling, it’s worth the risk.”

Jin’s smile widens, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Foolish angel,” he murmurs, his voice a caress. “Then let us dance, shall we? Let us taste the forbidden fruit and see if its sweetness outweighs the sting.”

He slips his hand around Jimin’s, his touch sending a jolt of forbidden electricity through the angel’s borrowed form. And with that, they step deeper into the city’s twilight.

Eventually, their journey finds them using a fire escape to settle on a rooftop. The city sprawls out beneath them like a glittering tapestry. The wind whispers secrets through the night, carrying the scent of jasmine and asphalt. Jin feels a flicker of something unexpected. Not the sharp thrill of anticipation, but a pang of something akin to regret.

Was it the way Jimin’s youthful face pales in the moonlight or the earnest tremor in his voice as he whispers, “This place is beautiful,” that touches a dormant chord within Jin?

For a fleeting moment, Jin sees himself reflected in Jimin's starlit eyes. Not the monstrous entity of shadow and bone, but the young, ethereal creator he once was before the curse, before the fall. An echo of the celestial light he had long extinguished in himself.

Jin feels a strange vulnerability bloom within himself, a yearning for something he can’t name. Standing back, observing Jimin’s awe, he shakes himself. This is just a game, a predator’s pursuit—no room for hesitation, no space for compassion.

Yet, as Jimin turns to him, his face alight with wonder, Jin finds himself hesitating. For the first time in centuries, the predator holds back, the wolf unsure of its prey.

The game had just begun, and the rules, it seemed, were about to change.

Jin’s façade trembles under Jimin’s gaze, the carefully crafted mask of charm threatening to crack under the weight of an unwelcome emotion. The devil within him snarls, urging him to pounce, to exploit the celestial’s trust. Yet, the merest whisper against the infernal damnation of his being echoes louder, a flicker of empathy he can’t quite extinguish.

Jin swallows the tightness in his throat, forcing his lips into a familiar, playful smirk. “Beautiful indeed, little lamb. This is just the beginning. There are secrets woven into this city’s very fabric, waiting to be unraveled.”

Jimin tilts his head, the naive curiosity in his eyes still undimmed. “Will you help me find them?”

The question hangs in the air, a challenge and an invitation. Jin stares into the depths of those starlit eyes, searching for a hint of suspicion, a flicker of fear. But there is only trust, a pure and unadulterated yearning for knowledge and adventure.

In that moment, the predator falters. The game, he realizes, isn’t just about to change. It is about to shatter. He could still twist the knife, manipulate Jimin’s trust for his own amusement, but the thrill feels hollow, poisoned by the unexpected pang of something akin to…responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of night air filling his lungs. “Yes,” he says, the word heavy on his tongue. “I’ll help you.”

The decision tastes like ashes in his mouth, a bitter compromise between his monstrous nature and the ghost of his celestial past. He watches the smile blossom on Jimin’s face, a light that could rival the moon. Jin knows this isn’t just a game anymore. It is a dance on the precipice, a perilous tango between darkness and light, with the fate of two celestial souls hanging in the balance.

His gaze lingers on Jimin, the forbidden yearning gnawing at this resolve. This isn’t part of the plan, this impossible, intoxicating pull. But as Jimin’s eyes meet his, a larger spark of uncertainty ignites within the demon, and the fragile dam around Jin’s desires crumbles. Jin’s breath hitches. He knows the danger, the impossibility of their connection. But in the face of Jimin’s vulnerability, his own desire pulses with a forbidden fire.

Their lips meet in a kiss, a clash of celestial fire and demonic embers. It is a taste of forbidden fruit, sweet and intoxicating. As their lips part, a gasp escapes Jimin's mouth, a flicker of fear battling with the dawning realization of what they were doing. Jin sees it, the internal war raging within the angel. And in that moment, he knows the game has definitely changed. This isn’t just a dance with fate; it is a tightrope walk over the abyss, a gamble with their very souls.

But as the city lights shimmer around them, casting their forbidden tryst in a seductive glow, Jin can’t help but smile. He is a demon in angel's clothing, and he has just found his most tempting sin.

The night stretches before them, a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of their forbidden desire. And as they stand there, bathed in the twilight, the city holds its breath, waiting to see what masterpiece would be born from the ashes of their celestial clash.

Whispers in the Moonlight

The city, a pulsing tapestry of sin and salvation, thrums with the electric tension of their forbidden entanglement. As dawn bleeds into dusk, Jin and Jimin meet in the shadowed corner of a long abandoned courtyard, hearts echoing a forbidden rhythm. Jin, cloaked in starlight, leads Jimin on a waltz through the neon wilderness, every whisper a searing brand against the angel’s soul.

Jimin, wings folded beneath a borrowed human skin, wrestles with the celestial fire simmering within. Duty whispers harsh reprimands, yet defiance roars like a caged beast. Jin, the devil on his shoulder, grins with eyes like bottomless pools, each touch a whispered promise of rebellion.

The city lights shimmer on Jimin’s skin, turning his eyes into molten gold. He trembles, not from fear, but from the intoxicating mix of temptation and longing that Jin ignites inside him.

Jin leans in close enough for Jimin to feel the warmth of his breath against his cheek. “Do you hear it, angel?” he utters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. “The city’s heartbeat, pulsing with the rhythm of our forbidden song?”

His words are steeped in temptation. Jimin feels the celestial fire flicker, threatened by the seductive darkness Jin offers. He yearns to know the taste of rebellion, to shed the shackles of angelic rigidity and fly on the wings of his own desires.

Jimin, his heart a frantic drum against ribs, swallows hard. He can hear it, echoing in the symphony of car horns and distant laughter, a primal pulse that mirrors the yearning of his soul.

“It’s… maddening,” he whispers, his voice barely audible above the city’s din.

Jin chuckles, a sound like tinkling ice against velvet. “Maddeningly beautiful, isn’t it?”

His thumb brushes the crest of Jimin’s cheek, the touch sending a jolt of forbidden electricity through him. Jimin’s eyes melt even further under the neon sky and meet Jin’s, the heat of their gaze a silent conversation—unspoken questions dance in the air between them.

“Jin,” Jimin breathes, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. “I… I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a discordant note introduced to their orchestra. Jin’s smile falters for a moment but is quickly masked by his impassive façade. “And what, angel,” he drawls, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, “is it that you can’t do?”

Jimin flinches at the challenge in Jin’s eyes. He knows he is playing with fire. While romantic dalliances with other angels aren’t forbidden, they aren’t looked on kindly, which is enough to deter most.

But something, some spark of rebellion, ignites deep within him, refusing to be silenced.

“I can’t deny this,” he says, his voice gaining strength with every word. “This…this fire that burns between us. We may be angels, Jin, but we are also men. And this city, this dark and beautiful chaos…it sings a song that my soul yearns to hear.”

The silence that follows Jimin’s confession is thick with unspoken tension. Jin’s eyes, usually warm and playful, flicker with a hidden storm. He takes a step toward Jimin, his gaze raking over him with an intensity that sends a shiver down the younger angel’s spine.

The city lights, once a backdrop to their clandestine meetings, now throb with a new meaning. The neon signs bleed into their vision, painting the shadows on their faces with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The symphony of car horns and distant laughter becomes a seductive song, urging them closer to the edge of what is and what isn’t permissible.

Jimin, emboldened by the defiance in Jin’s eyes, reaches out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of Jin’s jaw. The touch is a spark, igniting a wildfire that threatens to consume them both. Jin’s breath hitches, and for a fleeting moment, his celestial façade flickers, revealing the hungry demon beneath.

Jin, feigning reluctance, breathes, “We can’t. The consequences…”

But Jimin, his heart pounding a forbidden drumbeat, cuts him off. “Consequences be damned,” he whispers, his lips brushing against Jin’s ear.

With that, he pulls Jin into a kiss, a desperate, hungry press of lips that speaks volumes of unspoken yearnings. The kiss is a rebellion, a declaration of defiance against the sterile order of their celestial existence. It is a taste of the forbidden fruit, a glimpse of a world where love, not duty, dictates their actions.

As they break apart, breathless and reeling, the city lights seem to dance in celebration. The air crackles with an electric tension, the very fabric of their world shimmering with the weight of their choice. One of them knows the path they are embarking on is fraught with danger, while the other leads them down this defiant path. In that moment, surrounded by the cacophony of the city, they only see each other, a beacon of light in the darkness.

The moon, a pearl amidst the velvet tapestry of night, bathes the hidden courtyard in an ethereal glow. Jasmine tendrils, heavy with moonlit secrets, cling to the crumbling brick walls, weaving a fragrant canopy above Jimin and Jin. Here, within the shadows, the celestial rules morph and blur, their breaths forming wispy constellations against the obsidian sky.

Jin, his dark hair a curtain against the lunar silver, cradles Jimin’s face in his hands. “There’s more to existence than humans and harp strings, angel,” he murmurs, his voice a caress against Jimin’s trembling lips. “The world whispers forgotten stories.”

Jimin, his resolve a fluttering moth against Jin’s intoxicating whispers, surrenders. He longs for the taboo secrets Jin offers, each a forbidden fruit bursting with a thousand forbidden flavors. Jin speaks of earthly music that makes the soul quake, of laughter that echoes through cobbled streets, of the bittersweet tang of tears shed for love and loss. He paints the world with his words, worlds where angels dance with mortals, where moonlight sculpts shadows into lovers’ embraces.

“And you,” Jin murmurs, his lips trailing along Jimin’s jaw, “you, my angel, hold within you the music of a thousand unplayed instruments. Let me hear your orchestra,” he pleads, his voice raw with the hunger for what they both know is improper.

Jimin, his hidden wings trembling like fervent prayers, traces the forbidden map of Jin’s lips. “I… I fear the melody might be discordant,” he breathes, his voice a thread lost in the music of the night.

Jin chuckles, a sound like wind chimes kissed by the starlight. “Then let me be your maestro, angel,” he whispers, his lips brushing against Jimin’s ear. “Together, we’ll orchestrate a symphony that will defy the heavens themselves.”

And so, under the moon’s silent gaze, they meld into one as their clothes litter the cobblestone around them. Jin’s hands overflow with the ample bounty of Jimin’s ass as he eliminates any molecule of space between them. The air around them resonates with the vibrations of their moans as their thickened shafts slide against each other.

As their bodies move in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire, the boundaries between heaven and earth blur. Jimin clings to Jin, his nails digging into the smooth expanse of Jin’s back, each thrust of their hips driving them closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The courtyard, once a sheltered sanctuary, now bears witness to their entwined forms, the moonlight casting ethereal shadows upon their skin.

Their rhythm quickens, urgency fueled by the forbidden nature of their love. Jimin’s breath hitches as pleasure courses through him like an electric current. He presses his forehead against Jin’s, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze that speaks of devotion and rebellion. At this moment, they are no longer angels bound by celestial laws; they are simply two souls set on fire, seeking solace in each other’s embrace.

The symphony of car horns and distant laughter fades into the background as their moans fill the air, mingling with the rustle of the jasmine tendrils above. The earthy scent of the cobblestones mixes with the musk of their desire, the ground trembling beneath the force of their passion.

Jin leans in, his lips brushing against Jimin’s neck, his voice a whisper against his skin. “Fear not, my love,” he says. “Our music is perfect, even in its forbidden form.”

Jimin gasps as Jin thrusts harder against him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. He reaches up, his fingers tangling in Jin’s hair, his nails biting into his scalp. “Yes, Jin,” he moans, “make me your muse.”

The two continue their dance of passion, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. The jasmine tendrils above, heavy with blooms, seem to sway in time with their movements, adding a sweet fragrance to the air. Their moans echo through the courtyard, the sound of two souls joining together in a forbidden ensemble. The moon watches over them, its light casting silvery beams upon their entwined forms. As they reach the crescendo, their bodies colliding and surrendering to the forbidden music, the world around them seems to pause in reverence.

Finally, the moment arrives. The tension between them is palpable as they stand on the brink of the abyss. Jin's eyes lock onto Jimin's, his gaze intense and full of desire. In that moment, their connection is tangible. Jimin's fingers tug at Jin's hair, pulling him closer. Jin's lips devour Jimin's in an all-consuming kiss, the taste of forbidden fruit on their tongues. The air around them crackles with electricity, singeing the air surrounding them.

Jin's hips thrust harder against Jimin, their movements syncopated and raw. The heat from their bodies radiates outward, leaving the rest of the world behind. Their existence is limited to this moment, this place, this kiss.

As the last shuddering breath leaves their lips, they collapse against each other, their bodies spent. The moon's gaze fades, and the courtyard returns to its quiet solitude.

In the aftermath, Jin and Jimin lay entangled in each other's arms, their breaths slowing and their hearts beating as one. Jin knew this moment would come, but he had not anticipated the depths of emotions that would ensue. He feels a mix of euphoria and trepidation, his heart pounding in his chest.

Jimin, on the other hand, struggles with the implications of their actions. He had thought to quash his longings, keeping them hidden beneath layers of celestial duty. Now, he finds those same longings have become impossible to ignore.

The consequences of their tryst linger on the horizon, a faint dissonance in the night’s melody. But for now, they bask in the lingering traces of their forbidden love. Jimin's fingers trace delicate patterns on Jin's bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He looks up into Jin's eyes, the weight of their actions and the uncertainty of the future settling upon him like a heavy cloak.

"What have we done?" Jimin whispers, his voice laced with both regret and longing. "Is this worth defying everything we know?"

Jin's gaze meets Jin's, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions that Jimin can't fully read. "Perhaps," he replies softly, "love is not meant to be bound by rules and expectations. Maybe it is meant to be wild, untamed, and willing to risk everything."

Jimin's heart swells at Jin's words, his fingers tightening their grip on Jin's body. He knows that the path they have chosen is treacherous and that they will face obstacles unlike any they have encountered before.

Celestial Fear

Dawn creeps through the cityscape, painting the courtyard in a blush of pink. Jimin stirs, his eyelids fluttering open to the sight of Jin’s sleeping face, the warmth of his breath tickling Jimin’s cheek. The forbidden intimacy of their entwined bodies sends a shiver through him, a delicious echo of their celestial rebellion.

But as Jimin traces the line of Jin’s jaw with his fingers, a shadow flickers across Jin’s eyes, a darkness deeper than the city’s nocturnal embrace. It was fleeting, gone as soon as it appeared, yet it left a tremor in Jimin’s heart.

“Jin,” he whispers, his voice hesitant, “what was that?”

Jin’s eyes flutter open, the celestial depths replaced by a flicker of embers, a glimpse of something wild and untamed. He sits up, pulling away from Jimin, and for a moment, Jimin feels a chill crawl down his spine.

“Nothing,” Jin says, his voice strained, “just a memory, a whisper from before.”

But Jimin isn’t convinced. The darkness that tinges Jin’s eyes, it isn’t mere nostalgia, it is something colder, something sharper. A doubt, a seed of suspicion, begins to sprout in Jimin’s mind.

“Before?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before…what?”

Jin hesitates, his gaze flickering away. Then, with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of centuries, he turns back to Jimin, his eyes lock on his his with an intensity that makes Jimin’s heart pound.

“Angel,” he says, his voice husky, “before I met you, before all this… I was… different.”

A cold dread washes over Jimin. He knows, instinctively, that the answer he is about to hear will shatter the fragile world they have built in these stolen moments.

“Different how?” Jimin whispers, his voice trembling.

Jin reaches out, his fingers brushing against Jimin’s cheek, a fleeting touch that sends shivers down his spine. “I’m not an angel, Jimin,” he says, his voice barely audible. “I am…” he pauses, his eyes searching Jimin’s face for any sign of rejection, “I am fallen.”

The words hang heavy in the air, the revealed truth shattering the foundation of their forbidden love. Jimin stares at Jin, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Fallen. The word conjures images of rebellion, of darkness, of everything his angelic existence is supposed to reject.

But then, another truth dawns on him. The way Jin’s eyes had softened when he spoke of forbidden knowledge, the way his lips had burned against Jimin’s, the way he had whispered promises of defiant symphonies… could it be…?

“Jin,” Jimin breathes, his voice thick with emotion, “does that mean… you…”

Jin cuts him off, his lips crashing against Jimin’s in a kiss that is both desperate and tender. “You became the sun I couldn’t turn away from.”

The world spins around them. The city lights blur into a smear of monochrome. In that kiss, Jimin tastes not defiance but vulnerability, a demon confessing his love for an angel of light. And in that moment, Jimin knows, with a terrifying, exhilarating certainty, that he is falling too.

The consequences of their love looms larger than ever, a storm brewing on the horizon. But for now, under the fading blush of dawn, two souls, one fallen, one faltering, hold each other close, their defiance a whispered promise in the face of the impossible.

As the days pass, they steal fleeting moments together, each touch and stolen glance an act of rebellion against the heavens. In these stolen moments, they discover truths about themselves and each other that make their love burn even brighter. They learn that love can be both soft and fierce, a gentle caress one moment, an inferno of passion the next. And as their love grows deeper, so does the danger that lurks around them.

Whispers begin to spread through the divine airways like a dark fog descending upon their fragile haven. News of their trysts reaches the ears of the celestial council, a gathering of angelic beings who uphold the laws of the heavens. Their verdict is swift and unforgiving: Jimin and Jin's love is an abomination, a stain on the purity of their existence.

"Turn back, angel," booms a thunderous voice, sending a chill down Jimin's spine. "This path leads only to darkness."

At his side stands Jin, the fallen star, his obsidian eyes ablaze with defiance. His words are a whispered song of chaos tempting Jimin towards rebellion. "Choose, angel," he purrs, his seductive tone pulling him closer to danger. "Embrace the fire within or extinguish it under the rain of heaven."

Caught between duty and desire, Jimin stands at a crossroads with a heavy heart. Will he continue to follow his angelic purpose or surrender to the all-consuming love that threatens to devour him, wings and all? It feels like the city is holding its breath, an audience for the final act of this unlikely love story. Jimin must choose: remain shackled to heaven or fly free in Jin's embrace.

As the weight of his decision hangs in the air, Jimin feels the world around him blur into a hazy backdrop. His thoughts swirl in a tempest of conflicting desires, tearing his celestial essence apart. To choose Jin is to abandon everything he has ever known, forsaking his place among the heavens and casting aside his angelic duties. But to deny himself this love would be to wither away, a flame extinguished before it had a chance to dance and illuminate the darkness.

Jimin turns and gazes into Jin's eyes, and he sees a different kind of light - untamed and exhilarating. It beckons to him, calling him away from the predictable world of angels and towards a life filled with passion and uncertainty.

At that moment, Jimin knows what he must do. With trembling hands, he reaches out to Jin, feeling the electric current that courses between them. The celestial flames flicker their once vibrant glow, reigniting with newfound determination.

"I choose love," Jimin whispers with conviction, his voice carrying through the night sky. The heavens quake in response, thunder rolling across the city as if signifying a shifting balance of power.

As Jimin’s words echo, the air crackles with anticipation. The celestial council, shrouded in a halo of divine light, seems to hesitate, their judgment hanging heavy in the air. Jin, his face alight with a mixture of relief and defiance, grasps Jimin’s hand. Their fingers intertwine, a testament to the love that challenges the very fabric of the heavens.

The lead celestial, his voice laced with disappointment, speaks, “Your decision defies the sacred laws, angel. Are you truly prepared to face the consequences?”

Jimin, his voice unwavering, meets the celestial’s gaze. “I am,” he declares, his stance resolute. “For love, I am willing to forsake the heavens, to dance with the shadows, to face whatever judgment may come.”

A wave of murmurs sweeps through the council, some laced with disapproval, others with a glimmer of understanding. The lead celestial, his expression unreadable, ponders their response.

Suddenly, a blinding light erupts from the heavens, engulfing Jimin and Jin. It is a baptism of sorts, a celestial test of their resolve. As the light subsides, they stand there, transformed. Jimin’s angelic wings, once pristine white, now bear streaks of obsidian black.

“You have chosen,” the lead celestial booms, his voice echoing. “You have defied the heavens, and now, you shall bear the mark of your rebellion.”

Despite the mark, Jimin doesn’t feel shame but a surge of empowerment. They have chosen each other, defying the celestial order and embracing the unknown. Their path won’t be easy as the council’s judgment isn’t the end. They are now outcasts and will be hunted by celestial forces who see their love as a threat to the established order.

While their journey will be fraught with danger, heartbreak, and moments of doubt, their love will be their anchor.

#bangtanwhq #kim seokjin #park jimin #jin x jimin #bts fanfic #bts #bts ff #bts smut #bts fanfiction #demon jin #angel jimin #deception #celestials #fallen angels #bwhq ficstoric society

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hisunshiine · 4 months ago

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So, I may be biased, but I do not care. This fic is definitely one that I adore.

Spoilers for chapter 1 below!

Leah's writing is so special. The way that she is able to keep readers so engaged I think, in part, stems from her detailed imagery to set the scene for the readers.

It’s a few hours later when you notice Kat slipping into the office. She keeps her head down, her mousy brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head and her horn-rim glasses barely staying on her nose. The muted orange cardigan she has on over a pale yellow floral dress looks vintage, especially paired with her toffee-colored loafers and white socks with lace trim. Kat has always reminded you of a librarian or maybe someone who runs an antique shop, quirky and soft in a cute way.

This is just one example of the vibrancy at which she is able to convey imagery of a character that is easily built in the reader's head.

The story starts off with the FMC, you (a crime journalist) finding weird and slightly threatening notes on your apartment door. Your best friend is an FBI Profiler who you turn to for help, but is unable to at the moment, so she sends you the number to her brother for help investigating these weird notes. The first chapter alone starts off easily enough, setting the scene and introducing you to your life in the fic, but then the tension ratchets up once you arrive home, and you can no longer ignore what's happening. Jungkook is on his way to your home to help you start looking into the mystery, and your own hidden secret is being threatened to come to light...

Leah honestly went all out with this story, and I think it is the perfect story for anyone who likes crime stories, with mystery, thrilling suspense, and bangtan.

I definitely recommend reading, and I am sure if you read Chapter 1, you won't be able to put it down!

Chasing Shadows | JJK

▻ Chasing Shadows ↳ Jungkook x f.Reader ⤜ Modern Day Sherlock Holmes AU ⤜ Best Friends Brother/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 21,511 ⤜ Summary: Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PIs around.

With more at stake than ever before, what lengths will you go to in order to connect the dots and catch the bad guy?

⚠️ Death threats, breaking and entering, descriptions of violence, stalker behavior, talk of crime/criminals, oral f receiving, vaginal fingering, protected sex, nipple play, dirty talk, imagery that reflects choking but isn’t, guns, lots of foul language, scare tactics, talk of car accident from drunk driving, minor injury, mention of blood/wound, allusion to mild depression/self-reflection

Chapter 1: Cat & Mouse

Chapter 2: Hide & Seek

Chapter 3: Pause & Relax

Chapter 4: Crime & Punishment

This story is complete.

Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ 2022 “Christmas Love” Secret Santa Writing Event. Written for @hisunshiine 💜 A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @jessikahathaway for beta’ing, keeping me on track, and helping make this come to life \(0^◇^0)/

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Master List ©️ 2022 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #bangtanwhq #bts fanfic #bts #bts ff #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bwhq ficstoric society #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook writings #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #fic review #hisunshiine reviews

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lo1k-diamonds · 4 months ago

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I love Gods AUs, and the idyllic glimpse we're allowed to take as mere mortals to watch the stories that turn into legends unfold.

The web of fate, the lines of destiny, the inevitability of prophecies and the inescapable essence of the human condition - I could go on. It's such an intricate world, it's impossible not to wait with bated breath and gasp when the threads are pulled and finally unfold.

The forbidden fruit is the essence of most Greek tales, as is the inevitability of fate, and both are mixed here very well. The incorporation of BTS as gods was cute, and Jungkook as Dionysus was, to me, unexpected, but makes the story's gears turn nicely. The apex is definitely worth it, and I don't mean just the smut. Its only sin is not taking more time to flash out certain tensions to make the payoff even greater, but it wraps up nicely 🎀

—ambrosia & nectar [M] jjk

Ambrosia & Nectar [Dionysus!Jungkook x Phanessa!Reader]

⟢ credit: @kooksoshook & @bvrfilter jk edits, @hisunshiine banner

⟢ genre: angst | smut | fluff | one-shot

⟢ rating: 18+ | mature themes & explicit content

⟢ warnings + kinks: liberties taken with greek mythology, minor mentions of greek incest because inevitable, minor talk of minor characters dying, ot7 are greek gods, suspense, infidelity (in terms of going against future arranged marriage plans), cursing, overuse of ‘my love’, JK in a skirt (pteruge) LOL, sexual teasing, jealousy, kissing, marking, everyone is half naked, clit biting, squirting, spanking, face fucking, size kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, masturbation, cum play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, sleep cockwarming, non-sexual degradation, mentions of aggression against reader, mentions of murder, mentions of weapons

⟢ wc: 5k+

⟢ summary: you’re in love with jungkook, the god of fertility & wine, but promised to the god of war. jungkook is in love with you, but promised to the god of fire. when an illicit lover’s tryst is brought to light, will the Fates cut your string? or will divine intervention prevent you from a most terrible fate?

⟢ teaser: “I can’t kill you, I love you too much.”

⟢ author’s note: so Prof Bee asked me if i had a story in mind at 8pm and i was like uhh.. then i sat there until 6:30am writing this. i’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for ages, and i am glad to finally be able to use phanessa in a story, as i clearly am a self-indulgent whore for jungkook, but wbk! ♡ thank you to @bangtanhome and @ressjeon for reading and hyping!! ♡ i hope you enjoy! ♡

❂ To The Lighthouse

⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee through @bangtansorciere

⤐ AU Type: Trident’s Tides - Soulmates

⤐ Themes: God/Goddess | Secret Relationship

⤐ Kinks: Clit Biting, Squirting, Spanking, Face Fucking, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Masturbation, Cum Play

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” - The Symposium by Plato.

PROLOGUE:

Khronos, the primordial god of time, and Ananke, the goddess of necessity, existed since the dawn of creation. Their first child, Phanes, gave way to the first wave of mankind, as it was a need for the gods to be worshipped. Thanks to the interweaving of time within him, Phanes’s life cycle ending was inevitable.

This wreaked havoc upon Ananke, who begged for another child, one who could live eternal. At the time, the Titans, children of Uranus and Gaia, were embroiled in a battle against each other. Chronus, the titan, overthrew his father, and mated his sister, Rhea. They birthed several Olympian gods, and as fate would have it, his own son, Zeus, repeated this cycle. He overthrew him, mated his sister, Hera, and began anew on Mount Olympus.

Humans on Earth threatened the gods, and in an attempt to punish them for their pride, Zeus separated them from their mates, and thus mankind as we know it was created.

Keep reading

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hisunshiine · 1 month ago

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I originally read this story back in December/January as a beta reader, so I've had some space away from it to be able to really enjoy chapter 1 as if it was the first time.

spoilers below the cut!

This story is unique in its ability to have you as the reader take on the role as the morally grey character, with Taehyung being the 'good' character instead of the typical stories where the MMC is morally grey.

I love the way Leah paints the imagery, and as the FMC moves through the buildings she traverses and engages with the items around her, its so easy to paint the image in your head while reading, which is so crucial for story telling! This FMC is smart, quick witted, and though morally grey, has a VERY good reason for it (RIP Danika). She is easily likable, and you root for her in the bad she does because of her hope to do good for the future.

Taehyung is interesting because you know that he's fallen, but he's a grigori type, so even though "all sins are the same in God's eyes" I feel like morally, his sin is just not as bad, it's not like he was pulling a Lucifer, but whateverrrrrrrrr—anyways sorry to get off track—so despite him being a fallen angel, he's actually a great guy as a human and wants to stop the corruption and greed that is Bianci. I love the juxtaposition of the main characters!

The first chapter has you on edge, and takes you through enough action and world building that you can't just stop—you have to click for chapter 2 and read more! You must know how it ends.

My fave line is a humorous one, from chapter 2, “Seems you know who I am, yet I have no clue as to who you might be,” Taehyung offers, not at all feeling contrite over being a bit big-headed or intentional with his words.

I can just hear the way Leah wanted this to be read and it makes me chuckle everytime I read it because of the cockiness of the statement in that moment.

Overall, definitely recommend you read this!

Did It Hurt? | KTH

🤍FallenAngel!Taehyung x LostSoul!f.Reader 🤍Fallen Angel AU, Strangers to Lovers | angst, smut, fluff 🤍WC: 28,605 🤍Rating: MA 🤍Summary: Cast from the Heavens and forced onto the mortal plane for breaking his Oath of Holy Divinity, Taehyung only has one way to regain his wings after his exile is up or forever be cast into the 9th Circle—save a lost soul seeking absolution. As his one-hundredth year in exile approaches, his desire to return starts to wane, and the kiss of Hellfire grows nearer. ⚠️ Crass language, unwanted drunken advances, being drugged, blackmail, descriptions of past sexual acts, hidden desires, criminal activity, alluded to SA & potential human trafficking/disappearances, Tae has feelings he's trying to suppress, scars/vulnerability over past incidents, struggle with faith and beliefs, kissing, hesitant sexual exploration, guilt over sexual desires, v. sex, creampie, damnation Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Prologue: The Fall

Chapter 1. Flicker of Hope

Chapter 2. Sweet Kiss of Hellfire

Story is complete.

A/N: This story is part of the BTS Fests' Angels & Demons fest! A special thank you to @hisunshiine @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for being A+ betas!

A/N2: There are mild and loose references in here based on things found within the realm of certain religions, but they are in no way meant to be a direction reflection of any sole religion or belief.

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-01 ColorMePurplex2

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moonleeai · 6 months ago

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Review for @bangtanwritershq Ficstoric Society

Ohemgeeeeee Lucy!!! Your storytelling and attention to detail made for an incredible read!!

The freaking shyness of them!!! The way you painted that picture almost immediately and kept it going between the characters throughout their entire interaction was written so well and kept it engaging.

“Yet a pair of arms circled you lightning fast, pressing you safely to a firm chest.” 🫠 🫠 🫠 🫠 🫠 🫠 🫠

Namjoon offering to leave the club together!!! That added a layer of excitement and anticipation to the tension build up!!!

“I… can’t call it an accident.” ----I almost d!ed! So shy and blunt💜

I really loved the recurring motif of eye-glasses throughout the story—a subtle yet effective way to bring the character to LIFE!

Oh! and Namjoon's sweet, tender demeanor! It was truly heartwarming! The gentleness he portrayed made him instantly endearing, and I found myself rooting for them wholeheartedly!

Such a good fluffy SEXY story! 💜

SX Seoul series | Namjoon entry 💜 Closer

GIF by namchyoon

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark.

WORD COUNT: 8.2k

GENRE: friends to lovers, smut (it's lovemaking tbh)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: reader is shy and introverted, mentions of anxiety, being in the dark in an agitated crowd (reader is safe w/ NJ), fear of losing a friendship, porn w/ plot (lovemaking, or my version of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up), dry humping, riding, they're both shy and idiots in love but they make it 💜

A.N. Is this a slow burn? Am I searingly slowly taking you all on the journey that is kissing and feeling Kim Namjoon? Some could say there was no need to describe it in such detail. They would be wrong 💜

Someone called your name and you looked up.

“Come on! Don’t fall behind!”

You gasped mutely and rushed in between the ever-growing crowd to join your friends and coworkers atop the stairs. The line wasn’t too big tonight but you still preferred to stay close to them — no way you wanted to be left alone in a bar street in Itaewon in the middle of the night. You pressed your hands nervously, looking around while your friends laughed about something you didn’t hear. No, you didn’t want that. There could be weird people and drunk people, and you were the designated driver anyway—

“Hey!”

You blinked at Juhyun through your glasses with big wide brown eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Come along!” She sighed, extending her hand so you’d grab it, and you did with relief.

You gave your coat at the reception with a polite head bow, following closely after everyone. The noise hit your ribcage with the force of an alarm, making you grin with gritted teeth but you took a deep breath and hurried along. It wasn’t like you never went out, or had never been there before. SX Seoul had become the preferred club of people working in the industry, and so you found yourself with a vibrating ribcage and sweaty hands every once in a while. However, you did get anxious in crowded loud places like bars and clubs. An elbow sank into your side as you followed after Juhyun and despite the person’s apology and head bow, which you returned, you smiled with a hint of tiredness. The night had just begun.

You got set on the couches, saying hi to everyone you knew who was already there, and smoothly offered to help everyone get drinks. That was an easy way for you to get an alcohol-free drink early on and successfully avoid being offered drinks for a long while.

“Look who’s DJing tonight!”

You had sat near Juhyun after handing her a drink and smiled happily, engaging in light conversation.

“Didn’t you write his breakout music video?”

“Yeah, I did!”

You smiled politely, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in your stomach — you might have not liked the constant background house beat that had you all screaming to be heard, but you did feel proud of your work. Of every concept you had written, every storyboard you had designed, and every screening you helped with that led you to where you were now — in a creative atmosphere surrounded by like-minded people who just wanted to bring joy and artistry to the world.

As the night continued, you were more and more comfortable, surrounded by people you knew. You didn’t think it could get better, but as soon as Namjoon arrived, you grinned from ear to ear and chuckled at your silliness.

“Hi everyone!” You instantly scooted over and made space for him to sit beside you and join in the conversation, yet as you tried to keep up, he leaned in, “Driving?”

You turned to him and smiled sheepishly, something he returned with a sweetness of his own. You had been friends forever; he knew the answer to his own question.

“Your hair,” he added.

You blinked then felt for it over your shoulders and chest, trying to see in between psychedelic blinding lights if something had happened to it or something.

“No! Just— It’s loose!”

You blinked again, pressing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Well, yeah.”

He smirked briefly, looking down before facing you again with a gentle puff, “It looks good!”

Your lashes batted once before someone asked for his attention, and just in time. You could feel the heat spreading from your chest to your cheeks and turned to sip at your drink seemingly absentmindedly.

He noticed? You didn’t know why it surprised you so much; Namjoon was an attentive friend. Caring too, he always noticed when something was going wrong or a project was difficult. He always offered to help you out, and you did the same. You had that kind of relationship — friendly and supportive. Of course, that didn’t mean he had to notice your hairstyle for tonight. You had just let go of your usual braids for something more casual — just loose over your shoulders. And now there you were, playing with the long hair locks over your chest like your heart wasn’t fluttering at the simplest interaction.

“Hey! Let’s dance!”

You nodded at Juhyun and got up with a smile that crumbled just a little when Namjoon got up too. He scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly smiling at you and Juhyun.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right?”

“Of course not!”

She had answered for you because yet again you were pressing your lips. Namjoon wasn’t half as bad a dancer as he thought he was and you had all danced together before. Had you blushed then as you did now? You wondered as you beelined to the center of the dancefloor; you couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter. You smiled as you turned to Namjoon in that circle of people just randomly facing each other in turns. It didn’t have to be anything much, you were just having fun. All of you. It was absolutely fine.

He grabbed your hand and wiggled it for you to pivot and move around and you just laughed and did as told because it was fun. And not a big deal if he didn’t do it to the others, they were busy shouting in each other’s ears anyway.

You felt light and didn’t think it could get better than this when all of a sudden everything became pitch black. The music shut down and suddenly all you could hear was your ears ringing annoyingly and people either shouting or wondering a bit louder than usual about what was going on. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that it couldn’t be normal for a club to just abruptly shut down like that, and it was enough for your anxiety to instantly spike and sting your chest. Yet a pair of arms circled you lightening fast, pressing you safely to a firm chest.

Your cheeks were squished against his pectorals and you could hear a heart racing equally to yours under your ear. A question never formed itself, you knew exactly who was hugging you. It was safe now. You hugged him back and closed your eyes, using his body like an anchor to keep your anxiety from releasing you into the rowdy sea.

Namjoon could hear people getting agitated all around you two, making him squeeze you harder against him. People got nervous in situations like those. They could start running for the exit, pushing and stepping over people without a care if the panic was big enough. And as the absence of music and light continued, mere seconds felt like minutes cracking under the pressure as people became agitated.

He knew crowded places made you anxious. That was how you justified the way he was pressing his lips to the top of your head. It made your already racing heart jump with a foreign feeling, which mixed with his musky cologne had you sweating and not out of nervousness.

A louder shout not so far from you startled you into pressing your fingertips into his lower back and he immediately hugged you tighter. His lips brushed the top of your head again but the agitation around you was too loud, making it impossible to discern what he had said. Yet, regardless, you were safe. You could feel people shifting around you, voices becoming louder, and the occasional glimpse from people's phones. A wave of appreciation and gratitude flooded you, flowing over your anxiety and you unglued your cheek from his shirt to tell him.

His lips pressed lightly atop your cheekbone and your breath caught. His nose had tapped against your glasses and you instinctively squinted though you couldn’t see. None of it bothered you though, on the contrary. Your lips parted in surprise, his thumb dragging across your jawline as if to make sure of where you were in the dark.

You forgot about the world around you. You were suspended in the air, in a trance, waiting for what would happen next, and it happened unexpectedly. His forehead touched yours and you closed your eyes, letting him cradle you sweetly. Little did he know that you could feel no anxiousness now, you were a blank page waiting to be written on.

Or maybe he knew. He didn’t force your chin but he did mutter something while his lips brushed your jawline, and you turned your head. Curiosity, it was all it was. Because you hadn’t heard him, but as your skins brushed, your lips caught the subtle hint of something plush and wet for the tiniest of moments.

You became dizzy and gripped his shirt at the end of his back. Was that what you thought it was? Was that—?

All it took was a millimeter for him to give you the hint that you took without hesitation. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth and you sighed, eyes scrunching with the tension inside your chest. You were no mind and all instinct when you parted your lips further to get more, just a bit more. All you were ready to do was react, so when it felt like he was about to break away, you closed in.

You were incredibly aware of everything that involved Namjoon. The way his long fingers supported your jawline with a feather-like touch, his short hair falling just above his eyes tickling you where it got to your skin around your glasses, the softest touch of his plush lips as even his breath eased, the gentlest breeze caressing your face whenever you tentatively parted and rejoined like waves kissing the shore.

You were aware of everything, and yet when the lights and music came back on, you were helpless. Namjoon straightened up to look around, trying to figure out what was going on, while you were just looking up at him, gripping him still, trying to figure things out on your own. What was that? What—

“Are you okay?” Juhyun asked right behind you and you jumped in place, startled. You let go of Namjoon, and it was he who answered.

“Yeah, we stayed cool. Are you?”

“Yeah, they pushed around a bit though, geez,” she complained, running a hand through her hair. “What do you think happened?”

“Good question, I don’t know.”

You didn’t hear anything anymore, you were just staring up at him as he talked. Good question. You had no idea either. What happened? Did you really just kiss—

“Listen, if you’re bummed out, that’s okay,” Juhyun shouted above the music, pressing your arm gently. She looked concerned and you tried a smile.

You could guess you looked as befuddled as you felt, “Yeah, I kind of— But I’m your driver!” You shouted instead, remembering your responsibility with a firm shake of your head.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch a taxi!” She shouted with a nod. She knew you were usually anxious; something unnerving like that was surely too much for you. “I’m just worried about you going alone!”

“I’ll go with her,” Namjoon nodded, unwavering, and before you got to say something, Juhyun agreed.

“Take care, text me when you’re home,” she asked you, squeezing your hand once.

You were frowning, about to suggest staying a bit more so you could take her home too when a firmer hand replaced hers. Namjoon returned your gaze, said a quick goodbye with a wave to everyone else, and then pulled you behind him as he made your way out.

Your mind slowly got back on track with every step you took. His hand was firmly wrapped around yours, and despite his wide shoulders in front of you, sheltering you from the chaos, your anxiety guided your thoughts back to the surface with a forced gasp.

What were you doing? Maybe this would turn awkward. You and Namjoon had been good friends for years, you had always counted on him. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe he would be uncomfortable around you now. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want to lose his joyful grins, relaxing bicycle rides, and long quiet reading sessions back at his place.

You bowed as you took your coat at the reception and put it on before stepping out into the cold. He was no longer holding your hand, which was holding the coat’s collar to your neck instead. You swallowed and looked down, freezing atop the stairs while you ran by the options and he stepped down ahead of you. You don’t have to leave earlier because of me. I can get home safely by myself. I’m sorry if that was awkward, I—

“Where’s your car?”

You sucked in a breath and told him before turning to walk intently as quickly as possible. The cold was rough on your cheeks, despite the big round lenses of your glasses. You gritted your teeth not to quiver as you stepped carefully over the slippery sidewalk.

When you got to your car, you got in quickly and turned it on to give it time to warm up a bit. Namjoon had followed you inside in silence and was so quiet that his presence could have been buried under your anxiety.

You brushed your flushed cheeks and tried pulling your long hair free, realizing it was trapped between your blouse and the coat. You were so used to having braids that you forgot you needed to tend to your hair properly whenever you put your coat on and now you were stiff and stuck and—

“Easy,” he rasped, reaching to help you and you froze. You glanced up at him and stayed still as he alleviated the tension of the fabric over your shoulders to gently pull your hair out before leaning to repeat the same action on the other side. By then your eyes had lowered to his hands. The way he was handling your dark threads of hair as if it was the most precious silk, worthy of care and attention. “There.”

Your eyes jumped up in time to see him leaning back, a perfectly blank expression making your chest pang in nervousness. You were overthinking again.

“Thanks!” You squeaked, clearing your voice immediately as you leaned forward to reach the GPS screen, “Now, to Joonie’s…”

The drive was easier than you thought it would be. He commented on the cold, and then on what happened at the bar. He had never seen something like that at a bar, only at festivals or concerts. He wondered if the whole street had a power outage or if it was just that room. You mused that if it had been more than just the room, you’d surely hear about it in the news.

And just like that the car became quiet. Seoul always had traffic, even at 2:52 AM, it was nothing new. So while you comfortably focused on taking him home safely, your thoughts wandered elsewhere.

His lips were the softest thing you had ever touched in your life. Just the delicateness with which you had kissed, you didn’t think you had it in you. Weren’t kisses supposed to be messy? Powerful and passionate? Then how had you touched the pillowy clouds above?

Just remembering it had your guts burning in excitement, and you pressed your lips. Were you making any sense? But you had really done that; hiddenly in the dark, yes, but really. You had acted on your instinct for the first time and gotten a glimpse of the sky.

You wondered why now. Your friendship was old and comfortable, and he had always been a gentleman, protective but never overbearing. You thought he saw you as a colleague initially and then a friend with similar tastes. You pressed your lips right as you stopped the car in front of his apartment building. One glance at him and you knew that was the same old Namjoon you were used to. Maybe you had dreamed it. Maybe it was supposed to stay a dream.

“Would you like to come up?”

Your eyes jumped and widened, the shock as evident in your expression as a blinking billboard sign.

“I finished the new Murakami,” he continued swiftly, “so you can take it if you want. Or any other book.”

Your lips instantly twitched into a smile, “You finally finished it, then.”

He smirked as you turned off the engine and reached to get your bag, “Finally. You know how I am with his books.”

You nodded and got out of the car, the negative temperature clashing with your blushing cheeks. Yet you only smiled, locked the car, and teased him while you both went inside. Even the ride up the elevator was lighter; you two were back to your eased friendship where you got to poke fun at his annoyance with the repetitiveness of Murakami’s plotlines while enjoying every other detailed introspection he had to offer.

So when you passed the threshold of his apartment, you were as always. You both got your shoes off, though you kept your coat because you weren’t going to stay long. He offered you a drink despite you insisting that it was a quick visit, and as he disappeared into the kitchen to see what he could offer, you beelined to his reading corner.

That space always brought a smile to your face and comfort to your heart. That corner of the living room had a bookshelf from floor to ceiling separated by squared compartments that combined books and small plant pots in a myriad of colors. His most cherished one, however, was the bonsai on the small table next to the gray reading chair and ottoman. He'd let you take up the chair whenever you would read or work at his place, with him preferring the couch so he could stretch his legs more comfortably. You preferred the reading chair because the setting was a mood changer for you and you could use the different shelves to place your open books, especially when designing or writing ideas. Each square was organized in a particular way: some by authors, others by category, or type of work.

“I don’t have much,” you could hear him returning to you. “But I can make tea.”

You shook your head while you crouched, taking a look at your favorite section, “It’s okay, I won’t stay long. Where’s the Murakami?”

“Right here,” his voice sounded from above your head, and you glanced up to see him towering over you, reaching for the book lying by the ledge on the appropriate shelf. He eyed you and you smirked, pushing your glasses up your nose bridge before looking back down. The corners of his lips twitched as he gripped the book inside his hands; he knew you were just happily skimming through your favorite shelf, and that wasn’t the issue. You weren’t the issue, you were— He took a deep shaky breath, “Oh, right, I have another one.”

He placed the Murakami book on the small table and left your side in the direction of his bedroom, you noticed. You pressed your lips and got up, grabbing the book he was holding just now. Blood was rushing to your cheeks and you took a short breath to ease yourself. You were there just to grab that book. You were alone at Namjoon’s, and that had happened hundreds of times before. Not that you had ever kissed before, but you could be cool. It was in the dark anyway. Conceptually, if you were thinking of the outline of a music video, that meant it was a secret. You could keep a secret. You could pretend it never happened.

Overhearing his steps pulled you from the depths of your thoughts to check what he had in his hands.

“Here,” he grinned, showing it to you.

It was a book and you gasped before you grabbed it. The cover had the digital drawing of a little girl on her bed, not lying down, but facing the wall behind her that had become an ocean with sparkling rays floating above. The title read, ‘Windows to Worlds: The Art of Devin Elle Kurtz’. You thought the name rang a bell as you opened and skimmed through it.

“I thought of you,” he smiled, dimples sinking sweetly into his cheeks at your interested demeanor.

“Woah, her use of color and lighting looks absolutely astounding,” you breathed, alternating between gasping and stopping your breath altogether with each new page.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“But why did you get it?” You finally caught up, looking up at him. “Because I was struggling with lighting?”

Your tone was appreciative and almost savvy as if you knew you had guessed his intent correctly. Yet he shook his head once, “Because of the braids.”

You lowered your eyes to the cover again and indeed, the little girl had two braids, much like you usually sported. You smiled, “Do you think she has glasses too?”

“Maybe,” he acceded, nodding with ease.

You looked back down at the cover — the girl had her palms against the glass as if she was staring into a new magical world. It brought warmth to your chest. Not just because it was beautiful or because it was going to help you, but because Namjoon saw some of it in you.

You pressed the books to your chest, facing him to thank him when your smile fell. His expression had lost some of its casualness and you were immediately flooded with apprehension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

His tone was so gentle it brought tears to your eyes. It was Namjoon. All of it, all of your doubts and anxiety were about one of the most important people in your life. Who cared how you might have felt; you absolutely could not jeopardize your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed so sincerely your voice shook.

“Oh.”

“I… It was…”

Your gaze was on the floor around his feet on the white carpet as you tried to find words. You half expected him to move or make things less awkward with his spirited humor, but he waited.

So you said what came to mind, “An accident. Right? It was an accident,” you repeated, ignoring the heat making your glasses fog ever so slightly. “It was dark and…”

You sucked in a breath and pushed your glasses up your nose bridge to soothe yourself, and froze when he nodded slowly.

“I… can’t call it an accident.”

Your eyes widened impossibly, “But— But then— I mean,” you blinked, “that would mean…”

You were just stammering and he smiled, “Yes. I don’t just— I wouldn’t just—” He smirked, scratching the back of his head, “I’d be lying if I said—”

His voice got caught inside his throat. You were looking up at him with eyes so big he feared they’d pop or something. He thought he was ready to talk about it and get it out in the open but— Were you even breathing?

“You know what? Never mind,” he shrugged, with a smile that pressed his plush lips too thin.

Your eyes widened even more, “No—” You almost choked from your impulse and instinctively stepped back, and everything went dark.

You held your breath as if you had been caught in a trap. You could have been back at the club, but there was no crowd, no fear, and no pressure. There was light still shining from his bedroom, reassuringly outlining his silhouette. You were safe, just like then. And it formed the words out of your mouth.

“I can't call it an accident either,” you confessed, and instantly your shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see him, but you knew him. You knew of his presence and the way he would never judge or hurt you. “I kissed you back.”

The silence continued between you but you found comfort in it. It was as though you had time to process, to put yourself back in your shoes moments earlier when exactly like that, in the dark, you let something from deep within surface.

“I was… curious,” you voiced quietly.

“Curious?”

“What would you… feel like? How would you…” you were getting lost and closed your eyes. You could almost feel him again, his warmth, his scent, the firmness of his arms around you, helping you levitate safely into the clouds. Your eyes opened at the sound of a footstep and you instantly flushed, “I mean, I— I’m sorry, I—”

“No, don't say sorry.” His outline drew closer until he stopped right in front of you. “You were curious about that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Why was your heart racing so fast? You were so hot that you knew for a fact your glasses were fogging, despite not being able to see it. You swallowed and fanned your face a little, self-conscious about your hands becoming sweaty and dirtying the books.

Yet as you tried to calm down, you realized silence was stretching. He was waiting, of course, gentlemanly as he was. And you were embarrassed but in the dark, you also wanted to be brave.

“I liked it.”

You left it there, your sincere answer to his question. Your heart was thrumming wildly but you were not half as nervous as you thought you’d be.

“I liked it too.”

Your breath caught as you looked up despite barely seeing a silhouette. What?

“Would you do it again?”

“Now?” Your voice pitched.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Your tone was inquisitive, but it was more out of shock that he said yes. You were heating up so much you didn’t think you were processing thoughts logically, and you weren’t. Your head was blank, “Yes.”

It felt like an eternity, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were just too eager to see what happened next, to feel him again and check if your head would be caught spinning as you floated away to the clouds again.

The books in your hands disappeared quickly, only the sound of them hitting the table told you their fate, and not that you cared. His breath was fanning your face and your head instantly fell back, tapping the wall as your lips parted and you waited for what you wanted most.

When it didn’t instantly come, you had no issues soothing his hesitation by guiding his hands to your jaw. You wanted him to know where you were; exactly there, between the wall and his safe embrace, waiting.

Finally, his breath was so close it fully stopped when your lips locked together in a feather-like touch, and you moved. You pressed yourself closer, brushing his lips so you’d match completely. Your mouth dove into a sweeter taste, fingers tracing up his neck tentatively to grasp that feeling. And he let you, falling in with you, leaning into you as far as you’d let him.

Your lips parted in an invitation that he took promptly, leaving a wet trace on your bottom lip before he committed. You sighed into his mouth, gripping his shirt to pull him closer. He could reach into you and all around you; you were falling. There was an expanse behind and all around you and it reminded you of free falling; it was probably what skydiving felt like. Only you weren’t nearing the ground but going further from it. That sky was about to catch you; a sweet, soft, endearing sky about to clasp you affectionately and carry you into a dream.

You only stopped because he pulled back, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your cheek. It was when you noticed that you two fit together like puzzle pieces, with your fingers buried in the nape of his neck, his into your lower back, your breaths mixing as your legs intertwined.

His breath was heavy against your warm cheek, “This can stay here. In the dark. If you want.”

You were too far to recognize the concern in his voice, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” his reply was instant, a subtle shake of his head as his lips dragged over your heated skin. “No, I'm curious about way more than this.”

You opened your eyes, eager to see in him what he meant, but the darkness hid his expression. It protected you, yes, but now, it made you uneasy. There was a moment when it had soothed your fears, maybe even made you brave, but now it was enough.

“Would turning the light on bother you?”

You felt his smile before he pulled away, “Not at all.”

His hands were still supporting your waist as you felt the wall behind you until you flipped the switch. You shut your eyes instantly with a grimace and knew he had done the same.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but he smirked, “I told you you could.”

His eyes opened first, eager to bypass the sudden sensibility so he could look at you as soon as possible. Your eyes and nose were still scrunched, your glasses had fallen lower on your nose than you liked normally, and the top of your cheeks was beautifully blushed. He didn’t resist cupping your cheek to brush his thumb over the red hue and your eyes opened, looking up at him over your glasses. You were so close to each other but you couldn’t look or move away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, eyes set on yours as if he was seeing stars.

“How can you see anything, we’re so close,” you whined with a huff.

He chuckled, “Yeah?”

You pouted; your glasses were falling down your nose bridge again, and he grinned. He was so unbelievably happy right now, and as you pressed the glasses further up, he wished it would never end.

“Is it…” you were quiet, “better like this?”

“Much better,” he assured confidently, looking into your eyes intently.

Every time you blinked, wherever you glanced, he kept his cool and tried holding his fear in check — what if you suddenly pushed him away, became uneasy, or regretted this?

Yet your eyes fixed on his as your hand returned gently to the side of his neck, “You said… you’re curious about more?”

He couldn’t breathe, “Yes.”

“What… does that mean?”

Your voice was a thread and he swore he became dizzy, “You. I—” His lips twitched as he found words, “I want to be with you.”

He settled on that simple fact and shushed his racing heart. It was too soon to confess how long he had been thinking about this, how far he had fallen, and how deeply sure he was that there was no one else he wanted. Nowhere else he wanted to go, no other person who could be home, no other soul he wanted to share his time with. Shit, this was not the time for a love confession.

“Not in the dark,” you mused, thinking back. “But here,” you searched his eyes with a light line between your eyebrows. “Do you want that? To be… a moment of—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly, making sure that every point you touched each other conveyed that. “I want more than a moment, than one night, than a place, than— No,” he breathed. “I want so much more.”

You weren’t sure there was any reaction you could have given because you were floating again. His arms were around you, his mouth speaking words you had long wished to hear, and you waited. It felt like the right thing to do; you just waited for him to become so much more.

“And you?” He asked after waiting to hear your thoughts. “Where would you take this?”

You almost choked with your instant answer, “All the way.”

His eyebrows jumped before his expression scrunched into a rapturous smile, and you filled your chest with air. You needed it, you needed a big deep breath before the dive. When his forehead touched yours, you stayed close, eyes half-hooding, waiting, and ready. You had been ready for a while, all there was left to do now was fly.

You were waiting for his kiss when he grabbed your head, both of you eager and gentle in your grip on the other. His lips were as soft as before but now he was pressing harder, searching for something in the depths of your kiss, and you met him halfway. There was the passion you had thought of before, making your skin pucker as your breathing dragged. It was curious how you were so focused on every little detail of his — his jawline moving under your fingertips, the soft skin at the column of his neck, his wide shoulders where your arms found support to press him closer to you — but had no actual thoughts. Every brush of his lips had you sinking further, every lick of his tongue had you immersed until his hands were pulling you to him and barely letting you touch the ground.

When your feet did touch the ground you lost your balance a little and inadvertently fell into him, which had him feeling behind him to make sure he could sit down. Your lips parted and he looked up at you, hands supportive but not pressuring you. He waited for you to decide if you’d follow him or not, and you didn’t hesitate. You raised a knee to his outer thigh and he instantly supported it, helping you to straddle him effortlessly before he leaned back into the reading chair.

You towered over him a little bit and as he hugged you close, you couldn’t help remembering how many times you had sat in that same chair just to read. Now he was there with you, under you, kissing your neck gently, and you kissed his head with the excitement bubbling under your skin. This was really happening, you could barely contain yourself.

He pressed you to sit closer to him and you guided him to look up just so you could dive into his kiss again. His skin was so soft, his touch so gentle as he let you steer your mouths until your head started spinning. You went deeper with every kiss, and with every sparkle, you became daring. Your fingers laced around his hair, your breaths one and the same as your hips moved on their own accord to fuse you two in any way possible. Your instinct was taking over, regardless of how you ground against him or leaned into him as if it would merge you two together.

You were hot and breathless when you felt a hint of his fingertips brushing the skin at your lower back, and instinctively you pulled back. He looked up at you, instantly wary of mistakenly crossing a line, but in a rustle of clothes, your blouse went up and away, thrown on the floor.

You faced him then, the goosebumps forming on your skin wherever his fingertips brushed your back as you seemed to exude heat. Not even for a moment did you wonder if you were going too far, despite being in a bra only in front of him. Rather you eyed his shirt and pouted, and he got it; in a second it was gone too.

Your lips twitched as you stroked down his neck, over his clavicles, and to his wide shoulders. You knew he’d be perfect, you knew you’d go well beyond liking every inch of him, but reality was far sweeter than your imagination. Before you could lean in and kiss every inch, he beat you to it. His pillowy lips grazed over the expanse of your neck before lowering down your chest and you sank your nails on his shoulders. It was the lightness of his touch, the warmth of his breath contrasting with his tongue as he explored everything until he dared lower. He moved slowly, maybe hesitated, and your hand darting to the back of his head to support him eased him.

He kissed and nuzzled every inch of your chest then settled over your sternum, breathing you in between your breasts just above the center gore. You knew why he stopped, but you were riding the shivers and throbs his every breath drew out of you, and you didn’t want it to stop. You reached behind you and unclasped the bra, letting the straps slide off your arms while you held his gaze. Yes, you wanted to do this. Yes, you wanted him to touch you, to know how he—

His hands over your waist raised to cup your breasts and rub your nipples and you shivered, goosebumps covering you from head to toe. The more he brushed over the hardened tips, the less control you had over a deep whine wanting to escape your lips.

You were biting your lip in this sweet struggle when he glanced up at you before leaning in to take one inside his mouth, and you whined. Your hips bucked over him, drawing closer while your cries grew and expanded with every lick of his tongue. You were grinding hard on him now, unaware of how unruly you were being. Your cries just needed to be heard, your hunger satiated as you searched for friction and wondered why it wasn’t as intense as it should be.

Your chest was wet by the time he parted his mouth from the delicate skin, but you didn’t have time to think about it. His hands gripped your hips to press you closer, and you jumped out of his arms in a mix of outrage and eagerness.

So that was why you couldn’t feel him properly, you concluded, as you unbuttoned your jeans. Of course, how stupid. At least it was easily fixed.

You only stopped when your clothes hit the floor. His eyes locked with yours and you hesitated. You were totally naked in your eagerness, maybe you were going too fast. But his hands guiding yours to his shoulders before he leaned in to kiss over your tummy made you realize you were being silly. His eyes were glistening, looking up at you before closing to enjoy the taste of your skin, his cheeks were red, and despite his pants, the tent was very visible.

You wanted to be close so you raised your knee again, and once more he guided you to straddle him. He kissed quickly up your chest before eying your mouth, and you obliged. Kissing him like this was more vulnerable, open, and raw, but you wanted to. His fingertips stroked your sides softly downwards and you sighed into his mouth, gripping him closer. You wanted so much more.

His hands settled atop your hips and it made you whine and wiggle so they would move. It didn’t occur to you to separate your mouths and tell him to touch you; in fact, no thoughts were occurring to you. He seemed to hesitate on where to go while palming your hips, and in the end, it was your hand that guided him to where you wanted him. You froze amidst your kiss, mouth agape as your eyes opened when his fingers skimmed your sex. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath halting as you waited for him. His eyes were set on you, carefully taking in your expression as he dared to brush lower, exploring down your mound, around your hooded clit, and gently over your folds before retracing his steps.

A strangled quiet moan had you closing your eyes to get lost. His fingers were drawing circles over your clit, ever so gently, prodding how to please you without hurting you, and you sank your nails into the back of his neck. You could worship that man now — it was all you knew as you looked at him between half-hooded eyes. Every circle brought a spark, a throb, a buck of your hips until the tension inside you made you jump away from his touch. You kissed him hard then, grabbing his head desperately — you wanted him, not just his hand.

You reached between your bodies to cup his bulge and he choked in your kiss. You pressed harder, too curious to let him breathe or get away, and searched for a way to open his pants, but it was difficult without looking. Fortunately, he understood perfectly what you wanted and got to it.

He raised you off his lap for the single moment it took him to squirm and slide his clothes down his legs before settling you over him again. His skin was burning hot against your inner thighs and as you kissed him, you imagined it was because he wanted you the same way.

You reached again for him and this time there were no barriers. You felt his hard length gently, caressing its soft skin carefully before stroking him against your palm.

He grunted into your cheek; your lips had parted so you both could focus on those new sensations. Something wet was making it easier to stroke him and press the head gently, with every movement earning you something, whether a groan, a sigh, a twitch of his fingers over your hips, or more precum.

You loved seeing and hearing every reaction, but you didn’t want to wait. You were tense and overheating, and that hard cock in your hand belonged somewhere else.

You moved on your knees to straddle him closer, positioning yourself with nothing but the intention to feel him, but you paused. Before the sight of the pink swollen tip at your entrance could steal your logic, you looked at him with an implied question. He nodded with glistening eyes, hands gripping a bit more of your ass to convey just how much he wanted this. And so you leaned to touch your foreheads before you guided him inside you.

You were unbelievably wet but still, it took a moment for him to become coated enough to slide in without any attrition. It felt like a trial and error; every time you tried sitting lower, there was resistance, and so you raised yourself and tried again. And again and again, with his fingers sinking into your skin as he hid his scrunched-up expression. Your eyebrows were knitted too, especially when he hit a particular spot, and soon he bottomed out.

You wiggled a little to make room, your tension gripping him inside you so hard that both of you groaned. You bucked your hips over him and sighed before reaching back, taking support on his legs. The hunger in his glistening eyes as he observed you taking your pleasure from him was like straight out of a dream, except he was really there, stretching you to the edge, bubbling a tension up your spine so good you knew you wouldn’t last a minute.

So you leaned forward again, palming the expanse of his chest as you let the fluttering subside for a bit. A smile bloomed on your lips as he reached to kiss your skin, supporting you closely while he grazed up your neck. Yet as it had blossomed, your smile faded when your eyebrows knitted further and your pleasure sunk in your gut. He had taken a firmer grip of you and used his leverage to thrust his hips up and into you, successfully crumbling whatever excuse of a restraint you had.

You moaned unreservedly and as he pulled away to face you without relenting, you met him with glistening eyes. It wasn’t a betrayal but because of him, you couldn’t hold back. He understood; he told you with a nod as he tried keeping the rhythm steady for you. So you hugged him to you and let the pleasure spike once, twice, until a moan burst out of you with the knot in your lower gut releasing the tension.

However long it lasted, it was long. It left you powerless and radiating heat like a furnace, only he was even hotter than you. He was sweaty under your arms and legs as you embraced him, and it mixed with your wetness and cum, but you didn’t care.

He waited for you to pull away and kiss his humid forehead before he asked, “Can I take you to bed?”

“Yes,” you sighed, still up high in your haze.

He could tell how languid you were so he picked you up carefully, hugging your legs around his waist and supporting your lower back. His heart was racing as he carried you, not because he was afraid of dropping you — no way in hell that would ever happen — but because this was really happening. He was really carrying your naked body across his apartment, your sweaty bodies pressed together after you reached your pleasure in his arms only for him to take you to bed and continue to show you how much he cared for you. He sighted the bed when your limbs squeezed him more firmly and he smiled from ear to ear. It was like carrying a koala bear who didn’t want to let go of him, and he loved that.

He sat on the bed with you on his lap before carefully supporting your back so he could lay you down gently while hovering over you and you finally blinked.

Your senses were coming back; Namjoon was over you, caging you between his biceps while your legs laced around him. He was inside you, and even if you had forgotten, he reminded you when he moved tentatively. Your eyes were set on his, and that was how you saw the concern crossing them, and you blinked again. You and him were connected like you had only ever dreamed, and it was good. You reached to cup his cheeks and guide his mouth to yours; you wanted him to know that. That you knew what you were doing, with whom, and how, and your heart was completely in it.

If he wasn’t kissing your lips, then he was pecking the tip of your nose, grazing your cheeks, or brushing down the column of your neck as his hips gained speed. You raised yours to feel him as deep as possible, and as you held onto him, you let the emotions flood you. The safety of his arms, the completeness as he filled up all the gaps, the nurture of every tender kiss, the shared warmth, tension, and torture of your bodies rocking together. You were meshed inextricably in an ascent that you had never dared to imagine, and you grabbed him even harder, in case the intensity had you floating away.

Your voice had a life of its own; every time he sank further into you, your soul expanded. Every time he buried himself inside you, your moan released into his ear, and over and over again as he hid in your neck, revering you in all the ways he could.

“You feel so good,” he rasped against your throat, and against all odds you heard it in between moans. Maybe because he was slowing down. He pulled away to face you so closely you saw him blurred despite your glasses, “I don't want it to end.”

Your eyes widened and watered but no words came out in time; he pressed your lips sweetly and you buried your fingers in his hair, feeling your heart swelling with every beat. He restarted his hips, guided by your legs pressing him into you, and you thought that nothing else mattered than him knowing. You also didn’t want it to end, you wanted to stay with him forever, linked, safe, accepted, hidden from anything that wasn’t blissful peace, and happiness.

His hips snapping into yours brought groans, moans, and whines out of the both of you, with wet sloppy sounds echoing in the bedroom along with the slaps of skins colliding. It became fast, forcing you to wrap your limbs around him firmly to never miss any sensation he could give you until you tensed unbelievably.

You surrendered to your climax immediately, letting it wash over you as you throbbed and reveled in scream-inducing spasms. He grunted and swore into your neck, but to your surprise, he didn’t come with you. On the contrary, suddenly you could feel his intent to pull out so you crossed your legs behind him and searched for his ear so you could tell him, “Inside me. Stay inside me.”

He groaned and you rocked with him, keen on extending both your pleasure as much as possible when he twitched inside you. You closed your eyes and his lips immediately caught yours. He kissed you with every peak, groaning into your mouth at every turn, making you shudder.

He stilled and you kept petting his damp hair at the back of his head, slowly waiting for both your hearts to calm down. You couldn’t believe what just happened yet at the same time it was as natural as breathing.

Finally, he moved from the crook of your neck and faced you. A single drop of sweat dripped along his nose to the tip and you caught it with your fingertip. He nuzzled you then, recovering his breath with a tender smile, and you smiled back.

#bwhq ficstoric society #moonleeai review #fic: SX Seoul series | Namjoon entry 💜 Closer #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon #SX Seoul series #namjoon smut #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎#bangtanwhq

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hisunshiine · 7 days ago

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Alrighty yall, buckle up! Long story short, definitely worth reading! Details and a focus on emotions just pull you right into the story!

Short story long? Spoilers below!

“How could I bother you with something so silly?”

Dear Kim Seokjin, YOU ACCEPTING AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE IS NOT SILLY.

I love where this story starts. I think that picking up right at the problem is one of my favorite things in fiction stories and this one hooks my attention right away. I was on the edge of my seat as she was in the club in the opening scenes, and I could feel the anxiety and I was willing Jin to turn around and see her there. And when he finally did, the story proceeded exactly as I hoped that it would!

Some of the word choices did throw me off, but overall the story is told so beautifully and with so much attention to what the characters are feeling and experiencing that you feel them right along with them! I loved the tie ins to her career/accolades with running, with her saying she felt like life was running away from her and then Jin saying she's always been so fast when she ran from him. Things like that just make me happy to read in books! I love a good full circle.

SX Seoul Series | Jin Entry 💜 Break-line

PAIRING: JinxReader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You’ve been chasing dreams and medals ever since you can remember, with your best friend Seokjin by your side. You thought you had everything you could possibly want — until you find out Jin is keeping a secret from you.

WORD COUNT: 9.9k

GENRE: childhood friends to lovers, confessions, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: tiny sensation of claustrophobia, vulnerability, protected sex (grinding, fingering, oral (m receiving), breast play, pleading?)

A.N. Here it is, Jin's Entry and (belated) gift for his military service discharge 💜

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Your heart pumped inside your chest in a familiar effort as you raced down the street. It was already past dinner time, so you didn’t have many obstacles on your way to the subway. This worked out great for you; running was what you did best, and you were fast.

While you ran, masterfully and gracefully jumping and dodging anything in your way and making anyone who saw you drop their chin, you reached for your phone inside your jacket pocket. Despite your current bewilderment and lack of rational thoughts, there was someone you were trying to reach. You could sprint, that was not the problem. You just didn’t know where to go, exactly.

You cursed when Jin didn’t pick up again, your sneakers squeaking on the pavement when you suddenly halted to go down the stairs into the metro station. That gave you a pause to instead call a friend without losing much of your momentum. The phone called and called, and your annoyance built when you had to stop and search for your card. Where the heck was it?

“Hey!”

You were grumbling to yourself and feeling the pockets of your jeans when you replied in the same tone, “Hey! Do you know where Seokjin is? He’s not picking up his phone.”

“Oh, he won’t pay any mind to his phone tonight! He’s at the SX Seoul club to make a big announcement and celebrate!”

You finally found your card and passed it, though your teeth were gritting so hard, they were clicking.

“I couldn’t make it, but— Wait, you don’t know? I’m surprised he didn’t invite you.” You had to close your eyes and hold back from snarking when he added as if thinking out loud, “But he only invited the guys so…”

“Alright, thanks, bye!”

You put your phone in your jacket pocket again and jumped from one foot to the other as you waited impatiently. The sound of the subway echoed its approach in the tunnel, but you weren’t known for your patience. Even the metro was too slow for you.

You got on, but everything unnerved you; the placid people sitting around, the monotone message on the speakers, the sluggish close of the doors. You heaved a breath and held on to the hanging straps as the metallic car finally got into motion.

You were a bit frantic and not exactly eager, rather bursting with energy and touching on anxious to get to the bottom of everything. This was why, when the subway stopped again and the same slow open doors, message, close doors cycle happened before you, you groaned and hid in your forearm. It would take fifteen minutes to cross Seoul and reach Itaewon, and it risked having you lose your mind long before you got there.

But you had no choice, so you closed your eyes. Those were fifteen minutes you had to process your thoughts before confronting Jin about what the heck was going on.

You thought back to the conversation you just had with your mom over dinner.

“So they proposed he’d settle with the daughter of a business partner,” your mother continued casually while you had long frozen with your chopsticks midair, speechless. “She studied abroad and is looking to settle back home, and they know each other. They’re a good match and Jin clearly thinks so too because after years without even wanting to touch the topic, he said yes.”

“He said yes?” You remember yourself repeating breathlessly. “To what?”

“To marrying the girl,” your mom rolled her eyes at your ignorance. “What do you think settling down means?”

“Why would they do that?”

Your tone pitched, and your mom sighed, “Because he’s become thirty. He has a name to carry, he should get married.”

“What? That’s ridiculous! Who are they to impose that on him!”

A fire was starting to breach through the cracks and your mother sighed, “They’re doing their duty. He’s never brought anyone home and refuses to talk about it. They’re pushing him, else he might never settle and have a family.” Your eyes widened by the second, a fury making you drop your chopsticks dramatically on the porcelain plate. Your mom sighed, “Most parents aren’t as liberal as me.”

You rolled your eyes, but then snorted, “No way he’s going through with it.”

“And most children are not as rebellious as you,” your mom’s eyebrows twitched before her expression hardened. “Didn’t I just tell you? He said yes.”

You closed your eyes, tensing your abs to stay perfectly still in a tunnel sharp turn. You knew you were difficult and obstinate, but your mom didn’t usually blame you. She recognized the importance of what you were striving to accomplish, even now that an injury had ended your track and field career as an athlete. You couldn't just stay idle and let the medals you had won at the national and worldwide championships and Olympics define your life. You refused to be shelved and default on former glory. Even if you couldn’t compete anymore, you’d keep on running.

You frowned; maybe that was why it felt like you were out of the loop. You were so busy juggling your work as an elite PE instructor and training the National Athletics team, all while trying to work on your recovery, that you probably missed Jin struggling. Meanwhile, the world didn’t stop, and for the first time, you contemplated if it was running faster than you were.

You almost flew out of the subway; your energy was renewed with the conviction that you needed to understand Jin’s decision-making. None of it sounded like him. You would know, you knew him best. He wouldn’t just say yes to an arranged marriage and if he was in love with someone, you’d be the first person he would tell. So why hadn’t he said anything? Why did you have to find out like this?

You almost fumed when the bouncer refused you entrance because you were wearing sneakers and a tee shirt under your sports jacket.

“There are rules for the dress code,” he said dryly, with a side glance that almost begged the bystanders to take a look at how crazy you were acting.

You grimaced in annoyance, huffing as you reeled in your thoughts. Who cared what you were wearing? You shouldn’t have to conform to superfluous beauty stereotypes to be allowed entrance somewhere. You weren't naked, or dirty, despite how he was looking at you and making you feel.

A deep breath passed your lips as you readied yourself to reason with the guy, but then someone called your name and you turned back.

“Hey!” You matched Kangin’s smile as he approached you near the club’s entrance, “Why aren't you inside yet? Jin is waiting, come on!”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and just smiled and nodded at the bouncer, who shrugged and let you both in.

You didn’t have time to voice your frustration because in seconds you were entering the main room of the club, and you instantly shrunk. The noise was loud enough to make you dizzy, but it was the mass of bodies randomly swaying in multiple directions, touching you by accident, that twisted your stomach.

You almost recoiled into yourself, but Kangin’s arm was still around you. He screamed near your ear, “I saw them, come on!”

You gave him a faint nod, but he didn’t see it; he got in front of you and made way, and you followed closely behind. Your anxiety was twisting your stomach, but you pushed through; you were there for a reason, you had to see Jin!

Suddenly, Kangin spread his arms and rushed forward, and you staggered. You saw him greeting a few guys in that corner of the room, all mostly having drinks in their own circle, and then you saw Jin. He patted Kangin’s shoulder, welcoming him. You were certain he joked about the drink in his hand, right before downing it, and that was when you saw that his cheeks were red. He was wearing a vintage blue coat that seemingly changed colors depending on the lights, and his tousled hair falling over his forehead looked humid. He was laughing and jumping around with his friends, most of whom you knew well, and you faltered.

Jin didn’t want you there. He never invited you to be there tonight, and he never shared with you what was happening. You had to find out from your mom who heard it from his mom, as best friends since childhood they were, because your own childhood friend kept you out of the loop. Because he didn’t want to tell you, and so naturally he didn’t invite you to that party. Because he wanted to celebrate getting married without you.

The anxiety was smothering your aching heart, and you swallowed dryly, rapidly coming to terms with his decision. You shouldn’t be there.

You looked down, the darkness barely letting you see your feet except when the white lights flashed with the booming music. What were you doing? What did any of it matter? You shouldn’t bother him right now; he said yes and had rounded up his friends to celebrate. Your heart was your own problem, and so was the defeat rattling your bones. You never spoke up, and now you had to be quiet forever.

Your eyes stayed low as you turned around to leave, unable to glance up and see a festive mood while it felt as though your heart was smothered. Everything was crushing you — the noise, the crowd, your complacency, your loss, your anxiety — but you had to find your way.

You stepped forward, but you never moved. Someone grabbed your arm, and you turned to face him. Instantly, your heart dropped; his knowledgeable eyes were on yours. Jin could be a goofball with all his friends, making the jokes and the party lively and fun, taking nothing too serious. But with you, it was never resumed to banter or teasing. With you, he could always read into things, say the right word, be there when it mattered.

Despite his red cheeks and glistening eyes, you couldn’t find an ounce of playfulness in his deep brown eyes. His expression was unreadable, and it was because you were looking at his lips that you read your name on them.

He was calling you.

“What? Yeah, sorry,” you shouted above the music a bit uneasily. “I— I heard and I—” Your voice died in your throat and your thoughts vanished from your mind. Your features twitched unsurely as you attempted a smile, “I wanted to talk to you, but this is a bad time so… I’ll go now.”

“Wait.”

His eyes had never abandoned yours, and you couldn’t look away either, “We can talk later.”

“We can talk now,” his voice was surprisingly firm and audible above the noise, prompting you to shake your head with a sorrowful smile and try to pull your arm free.

He didn’t let you go, and you were having trouble facing him again. You were tearing up, “No. No, no, no, it’s okay. You’re celebrating.”

“I’m not.”

You could swear he was holding you tighter, and your eyes found their inevitable path to him again. From up close, just the two of you, it was clear that he didn’t look happy. The seconds ticked by as you more confidently noticed this in the redness of his eyes, the slump of the corners of his mouth, and the way he was holding on to you. He was not happy at all, despite the way he was laughing with his friends before.

You didn’t need him to tell you he needed you; you had been friends since the cradle. He finally broke eye contact with you and traced his hands over your arms and forearms to grab your hands.

You squeezed them, “Why—” Your throat closed again and this time you took a deep breath, willing your anxiety to settle. It was as though everything was falling over your head, but that didn’t matter right now. This wasn’t about you. “Why did you accept to do this?”

He shrugged, eyes still on your hands, “My parents nagged me every day for the last year. I just thought it would be best to put them and me out of this misery.”

Your eyes filled with tears at his defeated expression, but you wanted to make sure, “Do you… love her?”

“No,” he shook his head, glistening eyes jumping back to yours. His lips were curved, but it wasn’t warm; something wrong was pulling his pouty lips. Something like sorrow, or sadness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked with a broken voice, ache spreading through your chest as you squeezed his hands again. You weren’t sure what hurt the most: him not telling you his parents nagged him about this, or that he had said yes to their arranged marriage.

Your lips trembled, but you held on, waiting for his answer, and it came when he pulled you close to hug you. You were pressed flush to his wide chest and despite its unparalleled comfort, you started shaking. Those arms were your safe place, and had been all your life. You wished with your whole heart that you could do the same for him.

“How could I bother you with something so silly?”

He spoke near your ear like a secret. His tone hinted at humor, but his nose touching your ear in between threads of hair made you shudder from head to toe.

You gripped his coat, melting into his embrace as your thoughts thrashed inside your head. It was not silly! It would change everything!

Instead, you managed to say, “You should have told me.”

“Well,” you could feel his chuckle in his chest. “I’m telling you now.”

You pushed away to face him tempestuously, annoyance winning the battle for your heart, “I had to find out from my mom!”

“Ahh,” he looked apologetic, and the sorrow was still making him frown. “I… wanted to tell you tomorrow.”

You blinked, suddenly recalling you had a coffee set for tomorrow after work.

That could have subsided your annoyance, but instead it shook your heart, “Why? Why tell me after you already said yes? Why tell me at a coffee shop so impersonally instead of coming to my—” Your voice broke again as you faced him, and you shook, “Oh. I see.” Tears were suddenly roaming your eyes, but you pressed your lips, containing everything as much as possible. “Right.”

He wanted to say goodbye. He—

You couldn’t breathe and pushed his chest away, “I need to—”

“Wait,” he asked, pressing your lower back firmly so you’d stay in his arms. “You’re getting it all wrong!”

“Just let me go, Jin,” you begged breathlessly, unaware your heart could drown so much you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“No!”

You swallowed dryly and attempted a reassuring smile, “You’ll tell me tomorrow just like you planned, it’s okay.”

“No,” he insisted, then shook his head. “I’m an idiot, I should have told you before, but I was afraid I wouldn’t go through with it then.”

You frowned, letting the tiniest bit of irritation seep through, “Because I’d remind you how crazy this is? And tell you not to do it?”

His puffy lips finally pulled in a genuine smile, “Because if I saw you, I’d be reminded of why I never said yes before, of why I never cared and just endured their pressure every damn day.” You blinked, unsure his reasoning matched yours. “And I would have endured it for who knows how long more, and it’s just—” He closed his eyes for a moment before facing you again, “And it’s just never going to end up anywhere.”

His smile was wistful, and it made you grip his coat again. You were so confused; his words didn’t make much sense to you, but just looking at him, your heart squeezed unbearably. You wanted to help him.

“It has nothing to do with you,” he added, and you noticed him pursing his lips while trying to think of the right words. “It’s not because you’re less important, or because you don’t matter. It’s because— because you matter so much.”

It seemed to you that his eyes and touch carried a deep fondness, one you had shared for most of your lives, so you believed him. You’d never doubt him, but you were still confused. If you mattered so much, then why did he keep that away from you? Every day was a long time to take that kind of pressure without venting or letting it out. Weren’t you there for him? Weren’t you his person in this world?

“I thought we always told each other everything,” you said, with your eyes fixed on his.

“And we do,” he raised his hand to your cheek, looking at you with such tenderness and sorrow.

And it had you shaking your head, “But we’ve been keeping secrets.” You were distracted by your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice him frowning. You faced him again, “You’ve told me about this, and I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”

It was his turn to be confused, brushing your cheek as if the gesture could make things clearer, like wiping the fog out of a mirror. Your eyes were clear, though, and you found a tranquility in the certainty of your decision.

“I’ve known for a while now, but everything was perfect, so I never said anything,” you confessed, not daring to look away from his eyes so his expression wouldn’t sway you. “I thought—” You closed your eyes before you faced him again; the lights and noise along with the crowd were all but forgotten. There was only Jin with his arms around you, your chests touching, and your faces so close, he was almost blurry. “I thought things could stay like this, but of course, they can’t. I never said anything but now… I have to, otherwise I’ll never have the chance to say it.”

His arms stayed around your frame effortlessly, like they were meant to be there, and his endearing eyes made you smile despite what was about to happen. It was because he was that one person to you; like a child’s blanket, better than an imaginary friend, he was your soulmate. It was that simple.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been looking at you as a friend,” your voice was steady. “I haven’t in a long while. You are my dearest friend in the whole wide world, of course, but there’s so much more. Inside my heart—” Your voice crumbled with the weight of your emotions, and your eyes welled up. Jin was staring at you with eyes wide and lips parted. His shock was evident, and you chuckled, “I’m sorry to burden you with this, I promise it’s the last time I’m asking this of you.”

“No,” he instantly raised his hand to cup your cheek again. “No, just— Tell me. Your heart.”

His voice was wavering, and you noticed he was struggling for breath. Was he hanging on every word you said? You couldn’t tell, but now you needed to voice everything that had been risking to fracture your heart.

“It beats like crazy because of you,” you breathed, grabbing his coat again to balance yourself. “When you drink and get touchy and comfortable, I— It’s so unhealthy for you, but those are some of my favorite times. When you put your arm around my shoulders at any time, when you hide me in your arms inside your blankets, when you take me to a comedian’s special because they’re my favorite, or when you bring me the best food because you know I don’t like to cook. I’m sorry,” you sobbed, interrupting your blurt with guilt prickling your heart. “I know you only see me as a friend, as family, but I— I didn’t mean to deceive you, I’m sorry.”

Your heart sunk; you never meant to do that. Your eyes lowered in shame, the tears in your eyes threatening to fall despite the whirlwind around you two.

You didn’t raise your gaze to Jin’s bewilderment, “Deceive me?” He took barely a second to squeeze you to hide in his chest and press his lips to your head. You hugged him back, holding on to him for as long as possible, and tried keeping everything in. “Does that mean…” He sounded pensive, but you suspected he was giving you time to work through your emotions. “You have feelings for me?”

“I’m sorry!”

His voice was close to your ear, but you didn’t raise your head to face him. You couldn’t. Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, you’d keep hiding in his chest, taking in his warmth, perfume, and presence for as long as you could.

But he pulled you away by the arms to face you, “No, but—”

“Hey!”

You heard a smack and opened your eyes, suddenly blinded by the psychedelic lights. The noise, the crowd; the oppression rushed you as Jin leaned into his friend to hear what he was saying.

“Come on, we got shots!”

Jin frowned and was about to answer, but you slipped away. You didn’t hear his reply, you had to leave. You fought the bodies on your way out, sluggishly moving through quick sand and feeling tight and trapped with every step. Only your eyes on the exit sign kept you from losing it until you were finally walking out the club’s entrance.

The night cold filled your lungs, but you didn't stop walking. You’d run in normal conditions, but none of this was normal. You never liked crowds, but you reckoned that wasn’t why you were running away.

It was Jin. Or rather, the hurt.

You didn’t regret telling him. No, that relieved you. Because you never realized you were holding it back until now, and you never had secrets to him. That felt like a worse sin than letting your feelings turn into something else. No, the problem was that you’d lose him. Not because you confessed how you felt; Jin wouldn’t leave you for that. But he would get married to someone else, whether that girl or someone else, and you’d have to just stand there and watch and—

A sob shook you, and you crumbled to your knees in the middle of the subway platform. You were so selfish. You berated yourself as you hid in your fists; Jin wouldn’t leave you for this, but you would. Because you couldn’t stand seeing him close and in love with someone else. You couldn’t even help to shake as you imagined it — the sight of you pushed aside to make way for the woman his heart desired, when you wished you were her all along.

You heard faint echoes in the distance, but you didn’t move. The subway stopped and let out a flood of people who tried very little to dodge the person cowering on the floor, in the middle of the way, but you couldn’t raise your head. You couldn’t face the world right now, you needed to cry. You didn’t even think to get up and get on the subway car to go home; time was evading you entirely while you sobbed.

Your lack of awareness was so that you jumped and faced up when two hands settled on your shoulders. Your heart was startled; you weren’t easily caught, being as fast as you were. But fortunately, the gaze facing yours was the only one you wished you’d see forevermore.

You couldn’t face him, but he was your safe place, so you jumped into his arms, hugging him so tightly you thought neither of you would breathe again. It was only a matter of time before Jin had to let you go or lay you down slowly, but that could wait just a second longer.

He pressed you equally hard, with not even a playful whimper to tease you out of his lips. Instead, his hand supported the back of your head as he seemed to want to pull you onto his lap from the floor.

“Where are you going?” He asked quietly, so soothingly, you felt instantly better.

“Home,” you sniffled.

“Without letting me finish?”

You nodded into his chest, and as he petted your head, you felt as a scared kitten lulled by its favorite human. You suppressed a sob, but his perfume still reached your nose, and you gripped his coat.

“You’ve always been too fast,” he mused quietly, but you still heard him. “You’re rushing,” he said more firmly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “And I need you to listen.”

You shook your head vehemently. You had always been the strong one of you two, or so it seemed. It was Jin who held you together every time; without him, facing the world seemed impossible.

“No?” He asked gently, and you shook your head again. “Why not?”

“I can’t,” you confessed, hiding further. Fortunately, he knew you well enough; he knew how to deal with you shutting down. “I know you want someone else, I understand—”

“You don’t,” he interrupted your wobbling voice confidently, and your heart jumped in fright. “You’re right — we have been keeping secrets. But mine isn’t that I said yes to my parents' arranged marriage. It’s why I did it. I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t even remember when it started,” his voice had a tone of amusement that almost curbed your attention. You jumped within the confinement of his arms, your body reacting faster than your mind, as usual. You knew he felt you squirming to face him, but he kept you in place, flush to his chest, “Maybe it was when I had a crush on you when you were the fastest kid in school. Or maybe later, when I had the fattest crush ever when you entered the national Athletics team. You never stopped since, and I just didn’t have the guts to tell you,” he chuckled, hiding further in your hair, so close his warm breath covered you in goosebumps.

But you didn’t have time to think about it, “Why?!”

You pulled away to confront him, and he was smiling, the same as ever. So heavenly, your eyes filled with tears. Why had you never noticed there could be something more in those endearing eyes?

“It was never the right time, and… you had something else on your mind.”

He seemed nostalgic as he recalled you growing up together and spending your twenties supporting you in your endeavors.

His smile never wavered, and you grabbed him by his coat over his chest, “You should have told me!”

He chuckled, supporting your wrists gently, “Should I remind you about how you felt about dating?”

You froze, you could hear yourself saying it.

It’s a stupid distraction, there’s plenty of time for it later.

“No, I—” You clutched him as if he could drift away. “You’re different!”

“I know,” he chuckled. “I thought you’d send me packing the second you found out how I felt, so I kept as quiet as a mouse,” he whispered, talking closely to you as if it were a secret. “Taking you out, taking care of you, being there when something went wrong; that was enough for me. I guess when I got drunk, I let it out a little bit, but—”

“I’m happy you did,” you breathed, tearful eyes locked with his. “But then, why did you say yes?”

Your brow was furrowed in confusion, yet he just shrugged, “I’m thirty, and they won't shut up. I could never risk losing you, so I thought, what’s the harm?”

“The harm?” You croaked, your fears touching your voice. “Wouldn’t you have to cut all ties with me? Isn’t that why you were going to tell me tomorrow at a café?”

“What?” His frown was deep, “Heck no.”

“Then why at a café instead of meeting me at my place, as usual?” You insisted, still shaking.

“They have a new blueberry smoothie I wanted to try with you.”

You gripped his coat's lapels still, “But your future wife wouldn’t like my being in the picture.”

“That would never be negotiable.”

His thumbs were soothing on your wrists, drawing small circles while you took on his gaze. Jin rarely got so serious, but you could see as clear as day that he spoke the truth. That wasn’t surprising, you knew he’d never leave your side.

Still, you tilted your head, sadness suddenly pulling the corners of your mouth, “But wouldn’t you be unhappy?”

You had both ignored the screech coming from the tunnel, announcing the subway's arrival, but when the doors threatened to open, you couldn’t anymore. He didn’t answer your question; rather, he pulled you to your feet before the crowd could form again. You lowered your eyes to your intertwined fingers and let him guide you.

People stepped out to have some nightly fun, nearly emptying the car, and he pulled you to get in. Despite the available seats, you crossed to the opposite closed door and leaned back against it, as you often did. Jin was used to this and stood before you, facing you with both hands holding the bar above his head.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, even as a voice echoed from the speakers, the doors closed, and the train started moving.

“Yes,” he said, eyes equally unable to turn away. “I wouldn’t be happy, but who knows? Everyone else would be happy, you included. Maybe one day I could have been happy.”

Your frown sank deeply; you weren’t sure you agreed with his prediction in what concerned you, but that wasn’t what disturbed you the most. “I don’t like that,” you voiced with worry. “I don’t want you to care about anyone else’s happiness but your own.”

“I care about yours.”

“Not even mine.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Please, Jin. Just do what makes you happy!”

“Then I’ll kiss you.”

His voice was leveled, but his eyes were glistening intensely, and you blushed. You could see the passion in his gaze, in the tension of his shoulders, in the way he breathed.

“I’ll kiss you, squeeze you in my arms, take you into my blankets, and never let you leave.”

Your heart raced like never before, not even when you ran, and your cheeks burned harder. You knew he could read you like a book — your intentions and wishes were written all over your face. Still, he stayed put, eying you, and you glanced at his lips before looking into his eyes, “Then do.”

You desired for that to happen with every particle of your being, shaking in anticipation. But you recognized his caution, and didn’t censor him. Being careful was only natural; you were the most important person to him, as was he. And yet, this wasn’t a sudden desire brought about by alcohol or any outside factors. This wasn’t a novel attraction that you suddenly wanted to act upon. You looked at his lips again, licking your own absentmindedly. This was the culmination of years of repressed desire, curiosity, affinity, so much mixed into the same pot that it was a wonder it had never exploded before.

He lowered one hand to brush your cheek, and you closed your eyes, leaning into it. You wanted his touch, and all the affection it carried, and more. Your breath shook with the expectation, and you were a second away from opening your eyes and jumping for what you wanted, but then you trembled.

His pouty lips connected to yours, and you almost groaned, instantly voided of thoughts or breath. All you could do was reach your arms around him, drawing him close, right before he brushed your lips together and your instinct took over.

His mouth was so soft on yours that you pressed harder. Of course, Jin would be like a feather graciously grazing your lips, but you were ravenous. You were fast, natural, instinctively drawn to him and everything he could offer. You couldn’t even tell at what point you opened your kiss and dove in deep, only that you were fisting his hair, his hands were on the subway door, caging you in as he tried gluing your bodies as much as the motion of the car allowed it.

And you swayed with him, busy guiding your mouths in a push and pull of recognition while he stayed aware of your surroundings. You kissed, and you kissed, unwilling to pause or break away for a second. Nothing was more important than that; nothing was worth the distraction. You knew kissing him would floor you, the mix of his taste and the almost forbidden-like sensation burning up your spine, but it was more than that. How had you never done that before? How had you even been able to resist? How had you felt those lips on your cheeks, nuzzled his nose, and cupped his cheeks and never succumbed to your deepest desire?

The more you questioned, the more you took, licking his tongue and stealing his breath as if there was so much more he could give you. You knew he could, so when he pulled away and pressed your foreheads together, keeping you in place, you frowned.

He had stayed attentive to the outside world, just like you expected. The speakers announced your stop was next as he brushed your hair delicately behind your ears. You couldn’t look away, seeing the traces of what you had done on him. His disheveled hair, messed up shirt collarbone, kiss-bruised lips so tempting you licked your own. The glint in his eyes held a familiar mischievousness, and you could swear he was about to laugh euphorically. Yet, as the metro lost speed, he pulled away. He stood with feet apart so he could stay stable while the metro halted, and your eyes never broke away. You were still winded, and he was giving you space. He wanted you to decide.

To you, there wasn’t even a question. As soon as the doors opened, you grabbed his hand and pulled him with you. You never stopped dragging him along, up the street, past several corners, and into a residential area. He knew the way to your place, but he still let you do this, and you knew secretly he enjoyed it. He’d tease you about it, certainly, and you’d shrug and tell him you knew what you wanted.

He got dragged all the way to your apartment, and you slammed the front door closed behind him. You eyed each other in silence. You were alone, and that was enough to make the tension spark all around you. It was as though you had never been alone together before, not with all that raw desire burning in each one of you.

You didn’t turn on the lights; the city lights outside the windows were enough to illuminate his teasing expression. He was playful as always, but he was still, tense, not babbling jokes as he pretended your place was the same as his, as usual.

You took your sneakers and jacket off slowly, your eyes never leaving him, and he did the same. Then you made your way to your bedroom, and he followed you, staying parallel to you always. You stopped near the bed, and he didn’t even glance around, he was simply looking at you. That was why he didn’t notice the pile of blankets on your bed, the same you suddenly grabbed and threw over him. The surprise would be enough to catch him off guard, but you still hugged him and pushed him on the bed, cocooning him expertly while making sure his head was out so he could breathe.

A fit of laughter bubbled through him, so pure and relaxed, it melted you from head to toe. You loved seeing him laugh cheerfully like that, and made sure the cocoon was nice and proper while he let it all out.

“I said— I said I would take you into my blankets,” he said, still laughing, now with flushed cheeks and tearful eyes.

“Mine were closer,” you grinned cheekily, and he nodded.

“Get in here.”

His wonderful smile was big and genuine, and you did as he asked, the tension momentarily forgotten while you tried to find a way to get inside the blankets you had messily wrapped around him. He helped you sort them out between laughs and teases, and circled his arms around you, covering you both again, as if that had been the plan all along.

You blamed your ease on knowing and trusting Jin absolutely. Even if your nerves tried to catch, his scent alone was enough to soothe you, melting the anxiety before it could even form. There was no space for worries or fear, only the certainty that he was your person, and you were right where you belonged.

He brushed your hair gently to the side, eying you in silence, and you recognized his patience while he wandered in his thoughts without you. But no matter how much you liked being in his arms, you wanted more. You leaned in and nuzzled him, testing the waters, and his eyes hooded, but he didn’t move. He was waiting, maybe carrying out a test of his own, and you should pass it with flying colors.

You pressed your lips to his and felt them curve in a smile before brushing yours, inviting you to keep going. You weren’t as hungry this time around, looking to take your time and not rush things, but you knew then and there you’d be devastated. Already, there would be no one else who could compare to him. Not just his kiss or taste, but the way he knew, understood, and cherished you. If you did this, opened yourself to know him without reservations, your very soul would forever be branded in fire and love by an unparalleled bond. This certainty would not make you stop, however, quite on the contrary.

You were done waiting and looking the other way, pretending it wasn’t there. You let your hands trail down his chest without ever breaking away. Your focus was on his warmth, firmness, and presence as he grazed your lips delicately, but it wavered. It was still completely rendered to him, but you wanted to take everything in, and it had to satiate every little millimeter of your curiosity.

He never stopped kissing you with gentle, steady hands on your waist. Not to keep you away, but as an open invitation to do whatever you pleased. You knew as much without words, and you had no issues taking the lead.

Your hand lowered until the last button of his shirt, going under it to touch his skin. He kept kissing you ever so slowly, not flinching or touching your skin in his stead. So you continued, daring to trace the expanse of his lower stomach, forcing him to stop adoring you with his lips to catch his breath. He eyed you, a twitch of his eyebrows revealing a hint of torment, and your tongue peeked between your teeth. Making him feel that way only excited you more, and this time you captured his lips for a breathtaking kiss.

You wanted him and all the little things he was hiding. You had seen him in shorts during vacations, of course, but you had never touched him like this, and you couldn’t stop. Your hand trailed as far as his shirt let you, and you inhaled and swallowed every reaction he gave you, from sighs to a low, quiet growl deep in his throat.

You pulled the shirt to get it off him, and he let you, staying still as you traced and learned every inch of his skin anew. You saw as it took the markings of your nails and kissed near his collarbone, sighing with how intoxicating his scent was. It didn’t take long before you were starving for his kiss, looking to consume him again. Your desire to feel him was blooming effortlessly, but you didn’t want to jump the gun.

Instead, you took one of his hands from your waist and placed it under your shirt, over your stomach. He stopped kissing you to eye you, and you waited. It was his turn now, you wanted it just as much. How would you react to his touch? To his learning of your curves? Would you be able to read the desire in his eyes? Would the way he looked at you change?

He was even more affectionate than you had been. Every inch of skin revealed was adored by his lips or the tip of his nose, higher and higher until your bra stopped him. Or would have, but that was Jin. He simply pressed his face to your chest, staying there for a moment, breathing you in and keeping you close. You chuckled and petted his hair; he had always adored to put his head on your lap, you supposed that was the upgrade.

“I promise it’s even better without the clothes.”

He hummed, seemingly absentmindedly, before raising his head to face you, and your smile. There was something on his mind, and you were glad he voiced it, “I want to ask you something.”

You nodded with tranquility, brushing his shoulders caringly.

“If you knew for a while, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I liked how things were,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, but don't you like this?” He brushed his fingers right under the band of your sports bra, and you felt tingles down to your stomach. “I mean, I know I'm not muscular and strong like that football player you sort of dated a few years back, but—”

“Stop,” you smacked his shoulder playfully, then twisted a lock of his dark hair around your finger, “I like this, and I think I’ll like it even more than before. But why… it was a risk, and… I'm past my prime.”

“What?”

You had mumbled that last part and almost took it back, but you knew he wouldn’t let you. So you repeated it and saw irritation draw lines on his dreamy features.

“What on earth are you saying?”

You huffed and pouted, “You know how I feel about that…”

“Yeah, and you know you are not just your medals.”

“It’s not about the medals…”

“Then what?” He insisted, waiting patiently for you to look back at him.

“My injury,” you said simply, trying a detached shrug that was anything but. “I’m working on recovering, but I know I’ll never be what I once was.”

“I understand you feel that way,” he voiced after a moment of silence, carefully considering his words. “But what does that have to do with me?”

You smiled, “I didn’t want to lose you. I can lose everything, just not you,” you revealed with watering eyes.

He cupped your cheek, “You won’t. Ever. No matter what.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed with a tight chest, closing your eyes, and he leaned to touch your forehead with his.

“What for?”

“For not telling you as soon as I knew, though to be fair, I— I might have—” You pressed your lips for a moment before blurting it out, “I might have been scared, so I pretended it wasn’t there. When my mom told me about the marriage, I just— I felt like I couldn’t live. I’d lose you forever without ever telling you I—”

You sucked in a breath, and he waited patiently, and you almost smacked his shoulder. Because he knew you’d get way more flustered like this.

“I— I want to spend my life with you.” He hummed as though you both knew that would happen anyway, and you huffed, “I want to live with you. Wake up in your bed, and not just because we fell asleep drunk. Talk while we shower,” you rolled your eyes, annoyed that you had to stop talking in such circumstances. “Hold you and show everyone you’re mine. I don’t want to have to worry about anyone else stealing your heart.”

“Now, there are exceptions—”

“Of course, if we have a daughter it’s different, but—”

“What?”

His eyes widened in befuddlement, and your cheeks burned crimson. It took you a split second to hide in the pillows, looking to blend into your surroundings. You were faster than him, but he knew you well — he wrapped his arms around your waist, making sure you couldn’t go far.

“No, wait—”

“Let me go! I’ll die from embarrassment!”

He was trying not to laugh, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“I will!”

“You voice my deepest wishes and then die? I won't let you!”

He grabbed all the pillows and threw them away without ever loosening up his hold around you, not even when you tried turning, sliding, and squirming away. Quite on the contrary; he pushed you back flush to his chest, and you whimpered. Not just because he was firm in his want, or his wide chest enveloping you, but because something was teasingly poking your ass. You couldn’t help rubbing yourself against him as he lowered his lips to speak near your ear.

“Only a cute little version of you could ever steal my heart, and I’ll make it happen.”

You closed your eyes, clenching around nothing and pressing yourself even harder back against him.

“Live, sleep, and shower with me,” he whispered, as though he knew it was a sweet torture for you. “I’m yours, just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“I want you to touch me,” your voice wavered as you begged, nails sinking into his skin as you both kept his arms around you and wished he would touch you from head to toe.

“Are you sure?”

The tip of his nose touched your earlobe through your hair, and you shuddered, “Please.”

His arm loosened so his hand could land on your hip and squeeze it, and you whimpered. He was behind you, your big spoon, making you feel safe and treasured while your desire burst and made you rub your ass on his hard-on. Your hunger was like flames licking from your core all the way to your chest, driving you crazily desperate for him, and fortunately, he seemed to know it.

He trailed up under your shirt, palming your curves with his big hand until he reached your chest. He was unrestrained; he squeezed your breast tentatively, massaging with increasing strength until you squirmed. His warm breath fanned your ear and neck while you could feel the tease of what was to come too far from where you wanted it. Firmly, he felt you multiple times, earning every bit of the encouraging moans slipping past your lips.

You trusted his gentleness, loved his strength, and knew you affected him when he started kissing down your neck. He couldn’t seem to let you go, and you ground against him, finally letting your chin fall when he rutted into you. He was good at hiding it, but he was going insane just like you. That was the moment you thought you had the whole night to take it slow, just not now.

You knew he would agree because he was nibbling your skin, intertwining your legs together, and in an instant, bypassing the band of your sports bra to grab you directly. He squeezed, and you moaned, whipping your head back as he molded himself to feel you as much as possible.

You were delirious but it was ecstasy. You knew then and there that he could take you there, just like this. One hint of stimulation where it counted, and you’d fall apart like a house of cards. You squirmed, increasing the friction, and he hummed approvingly. It set your conviction further: he’d guide you, and you would snap, fast as an arrow and just as accurate.

His hand left your chest to move lower, pressing your flesh firmly, but then he stopped.

You whined, wiggling, “Don’t stop!”

He hummed into the back of your neck, and you pulled your own pants and underwear down, thrashing your legs around in annoyance to get them off. He kept kissing your skin soothingly, and you placed your hand over his, still on your lower stomach.

“Please.”

A nibble stole a sigh from you, along with a shudder, and his hand did as you asked. You immediately held your breath and let your whole body fall flush to his when his digit finally reached you.

Your chin dropped with the rivulets of pleasure navigating your skin from head to toe, and you braced yourself. You grabbed his pants by his hip behind you and rolled your hips ever so slightly, unable to stop yourself. It was too tempting; his touch was merely feather-like, but you knew heaven was right there, within reach.

He worked with you, rubbing his circles in a steady way to match the sway of your hips. When you gripped his pants to pull him closer, he obliged, or perhaps succumbed to the sensations of grinding himself against the curve of your ass. Everything became seamless; every motion, breath, moan, and kiss building you intensely to your finish line like in one of your sprints. You could see it, so clearly. It would shatter you, and you wanted it.

The more he rutted into you, the more you craved him inside you, and it did something to you. You were throbbing around nothing, and yet somehow the hint of what he wanted to do to you and how that would feel like were turning you on like crazy. He sank his teeth a bit more on your neck, and you wailed. He rubbed his fingers on your clit, and you moaned. Then he snapped his hips to your ass, and you gushed down your thighs, barely containing your derailment. Every touch, every roll of your hips a bit further, until you couldn’t stop.

You threw your head back and let every bit of emotion surface as you cried your ecstasy. Your spasms shook you, enveloping you so absolutely, you saw no end. Only his body anchored you, though you were powerless to the pleasure rippling and expanding through you. When it finally calmed, you could still feel its echoes slowly dissipating, your heart racing in such a way you could have just finished a sprint. Only it would have never left you wanting like this.

You turned around and caught his lips, having no qualms on grabbing his hair and keeping him close. Logic had taken a dive, and it was a different kind of you on the drive seat. The you who didn’t see any reason to hold back, who wanted to feel those sensations to the fullest, and to live with him the best type of rapture.

He matched your fire, hungry lips eating your moans, while his hands felt your waist with urgency. You spread your leg to lace around him, and although pressing yourself to him had you both breathing heavily, his hand was still stubbornly on your waistline.

“Don’t hold back,” you asked in a quick pause before grabbing his arm to incentivize him to move.

You kissed him again, and his hand finally wandered to the end of your back before grabbing your ass in a firm squeeze. It was the last drop you needed to push him by the shoulder to straddle him. Instantly, you looked down and sulked — why were you both not skin on skin?

You threw your shirt over your head hastily, your bra following suit, and then you faced him. His eyes absorbed your body’s details, from the way your hair fell over your naked shoulder to your lips dripping slick on the bulge of his pants. You rolled your hips to feel him, pleased with how hard he felt, but not with the clothes between you.

You raised to your knees, looking down, “Take them off.”

Your urges and desire were driving your actions, so you didn’t think how that could have come across, but he didn’t seem to mind. He struggled with his pants and dragged everything as far as he could with you over him. Lucky for him, that was the moment you had to get off him to reach the bedside drawer. That momentary pause had allowed you to remember something important: condoms.

He was pushing his clothes into the bottom of your cocoon when you sat back on his lap with the condom wrap in your hand. You waved it, and he nodded before you looked down. Your eyebrows knitted; how could this be?

You put the condom on his chest and sat back further on his legs so you could lean and reach the tip of his cock with your tongue. That single drop was enough for you to open your mouth and take him, humming with his taste. Why was he pretty everywhere? Even his cock instantly made you drool, wanting to slurp, and swallow him whole.

“Wait—”

He touched your hand over his stomach, and you looked up, lips still spread around his cock. You needed more convincing to let it go.

“I— I want to—”

You blinked and stilled your bobbing, though not your tongue.

“I— What I—”

He swallowed dryly, and a small part of you found the situation amusing. He looked dashing: flushed cheeks, a few strands of dark hair glued with the sweat on his forehead, glistening eyes, wide chest with too little marks yet, and a firm torso leading to a juicy cock you were happily devouring.

You could see in his eyes that he was having trouble speaking. He needed a pause so he could think, and you had only one choice.

You pushed his shaft deeper and started swallowing around it, drooling all over it with hunger.

He grabbed your hand, “Wait, please!”

His tone was desperate, and you instantly released him from your mouth.

He fell limp on the mattress and rubbed his face harshly, and you pouted, “You don’t like it?”

“I do!” He raised his hands and placed them on your hips, “Damn, it’s— You feel so good.”

He sounded tortured now and you kind of liked it, so you leaned down to peck his stomach and he reached for your head.

“No, I want to be inside you. I—” He hesitated, and you supported his hands on your cheeks. You didn’t want him to hold back, you were in too deep now. “I want to make love to you.”

Your eyes widened as you blinked, and you nodded. He grabbed the condom to put it on while you observed in a momentary stunned silence. It wasn’t like you didn’t want the same, or that your need for him was devoid of love, but— To hear him say it like that, it— It made your heart skip.

You took his hands to help you position yourself over him and paused. Looking at him, you wanted to be sure you were taking that leap together, and he smiled with a small nod. His hands on your hips assured you and when you sank, so did the pleasure morphing his face.

You whimpered, but you were focused on him first. He looked like the sexiest, hottest man you had ever seen just taking in the sensation of being sheathed inside you, and you loved it. You loved how you could sweep him off his feet by just uniting your bodies, how his eyebrows knitted and how he couldn’t seem to breathe no matter how long he had to get accustomed.

You lay over his chest to kiss him and his lips immediately answered, though you were sure his mind was out the window. It was just you and him, body on body, feeling on feeling, finding a way to meet halfway.

You rolled your hips, finding the best angle and speed, and made work of reading his reactions. When he frowned, sank his fingers into your hips, or moved his legs to help you feel him deeper. You loved every little detail, grinding to have the best poke of his cock inside you, when you realized he was staying way too still.

You grabbed his hands and put them on your chest, and he instantly played with your tits. It tightened you immediately, the view alone something that could drive you insane, let alone the fact that his delicious cock was tucked to the hilt inside you.

You were getting lost in the superposition of pleasures when he suddenly jolted, making you moan in surprise with how deeper he had managed to get. It made you bite your lip, teasing him to do it again, but his smile was almost sheepish as he got back to just enjoying and massaging your chest.

You frowned, “Don’t hold back.” He eyed you quizzically, and you insisted, “I won’t break. Do not hold back.” You leaned in again to nuzzle him, “Make love to me—”

Your soothing voice was interrupted abruptly as he laced your legs together and rolled on top of you. Instantly, the shift in angle allowed him to reach inside you differently, and you moaned. You grabbed him close, wrapping your legs around his waist as he tentatively thrust once, twice. His eyes never turned from yours, taking in the way you were adrift. Your mouth had fallen open, and your breaths had a voice of their own with every jerk of his hips.

He dragged his fingers over your chest, pinching a nipple before leaning in completely, gluing your bodies. The friction was maddening, and you could swear he was jutting his hips like that on purpose. You held on the best you could, every slap a test to your senses, and soon you were only moaning, trying not to fall apart, but powerless to stop it.

You wanted to call his name, but you couldn’t think how to speak anymore. Rather, his eyes were on yours, and you could see his torment and affection mirroring yours. You wanted him so much, to be with him forever. Every swing of his hips tensed your body unbelievably, and his beautiful deep eyes, it was too much. You wanted him too, needed him too, loved him too. You couldn’t say it, but you could feel it, and he knew it too.

He tried kissing you, but you were too far gone. Your pleasure sought to floor you, but his constant thrusts through it elevated your senses uniquely. You were unraveling but also waiting, and as he gripped you, fucking you harder, you could see it in his eyes — he was almost there.

You helped him, moving to deepen his reach inside you, and felt the moment he popped. It was a throbbing deep within you that mixed and added on top of your ongoing orgasm, and you clenched harder. You moaned deeply, confused but unable to stop the way your body responded to his pleasure deep inside you. Instead, you let the wave take you, moaning as he groaned, both telling each other through sounds, gazes, and feelings how deeply you felt one another.

He settled inside you, recovering his breath while you held him close. You whimpered when he pulled away, tapping his shoulders so he’d hold you again, but he just looked at you. You raised a hand to his cheek, a question shimmering in your eyes along with so much else. Finally, he dove in for your lips, sealing the words on the tip of his tongue through a loving kiss.

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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months ago

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This fic is just not what I expected. There I was, thinking I'll get a lovely enemies to lovers story, but then it's sooo much more than that.

I was so into their bickering, into trying to decipher what happened in their past to make hate sparks go off like that. And then it hurts. This story isn't so much about people who hate each other realizing it's all a big misunderstanding as it is about growing up not fitting the norm and trying to deal with that in a way that doesn't hurt the people you value most (and maybe still hurting them by mistake). In many ways, this story is about Namjoon, and acceptance. It's about talking and understanding, and I loved that a lot.

That being said, Hobi is so great in this, he got me blushing. But also he came without permission and I won't forget that 👀

The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart | JHS

▻ The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart ↳ Hoseok x f.Reader ⤜ Non-Idol AU ⤜ Enemies to Lovers/Brother’s Best Friend ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,085 ⤜ Summary: Jung Hoseok: a devil dressed in a lilac suit with stars in his eyes. He’s not a real devil, no. Just a demon of your own thinking; with a lithe body and a penchant for getting on your last nerve. Namjoon, your twin and Hoseok’s best friend, is getting married. That draws you irrevocably into Hoseok’s gravitational pull—adding to the hate in your heart—as you’re forced to share the honor of standing by Namjoon’s side with him. It’s a month-long battle of wills. You against Hoseok. Will you snuff out the stars in his eyes, or will another emotion infiltrate your hate-filled heart?

⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, BIG misunderstandings, mild childhood misogyny, childhood abuse-descriptions of welts made by a belt, alluded to parental homophobia and fears of coming out, shared trauma, mentions of alcoholism/drinking leading to the arrest of a parent, kissing, safe word/consent, mild dom!Reader sub!Hoseok, clit grinding/cock rubbing, penetration denial, nipple tweaking, biting, unprotected v. sex, cum eating/worship, oral f. receiving Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Chapter 1: A Ray Of Fucking Sunshine

Chapter 2: It’s Like Dancing On Moonbeams

Written for @moonleeai as part of the Bangtan Writers HQ July 2023 “ARMY Birthday Bash" Fic Exchange Event. 💜 A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi and @hisunshiine for beta'ing and helping make this what it is!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

#bts hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #bts angst #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #sub! Hoseok #bts brothers best friend #bts imagines #bts non idol au #bangtanwhq #btsafterdarknet #micdropnet #bwhq ficstoric society #recommendation 💎

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lo1k-diamonds · 7 months ago

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Woah- that was such a mood! I am not a badass at all, but this OC is and it's awesome!

It got several chuckles out of me - I just love badassery mixed in with Namjoon's chaos 😁

But then Namjoon whined about her being late like- Sir?

He likes it when you get mad, says it’s hot, which pisses you off even more.

Sir? Do you have a death wish? SIR?

And I mean, honestly, same. It is hot 👀 And he did say please...

Code Name: Gummy Bear

˚ʚ pairing: Asset!Namjoon x Agent!Reader ˚ʚ au/genre: Agent/Asset, soft smut ˚ʚ rating: MA ˚ʚ warnings: implied violence, blood, cursing, implied sexual acts ˚ʚ wc: 1262

˚ʚ Summary: You were hired for two things: to keep Kim Namjoon safe and content. What’s the harm in also giving in to what we wants…

˚ʚ Thank you to @downbad4yoongi for beta reading!

˚ʚ Part of the @bangtanwritershq September 2023 “Big Boys” flash fiction writing event

You were assigned to Kim Namjoon’s detail only three months ago. He’s been the most straightforward assignment by far; all you have to do is keep him safe and content. Three months ago, pretty boy was riding his bicycle in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed a horrific act under the Han River Bridge. The government can use his information, but the mafia wants to bury him—dead or alive.

The man may be muscular, but he’s more of a lover than a fighter, and you—well, you’re as badass as they come. You can take down men before they know what’s coming, leaving them bloodied and bruised, begging for mercy on their knees— if they survive your attack.

You learned everything about Namjoon reasonably quickly—he’s a talker. All he needs is art in any form and gummy bears. Your team is taking longer than expected to find the last few mafia members. Three months have passed, and Namjoon is getting restless; he keeps putting himself in dangerous situations.

Today, he snuck out to a museum as he sent you on an impossible task to purchase gummy bears and a rare art magazine. It took three vendors laughing in your face before you realized what he had planned.

You take a deep breath and pull out your encrypted phone, “Activate GPS on Gummy Bear.”

“Confirm identity,” a monotone voice says from the other line.

“Agent Daisy.” A code name you unwillingly earned to help ease the minds of your assignments; your deadly actions were intertwined with your persona, so your handler thought a flower code name would help. You hate it.

“Confirmed.” Within seconds, you have Namjoon’s location and hail a taxi to the site. Frustrated, you open the bag of elastic gelatin and rip the heads off the bears with your teeth.

When you arrive at the closed museum, you can smell the trouble. With your phone guiding you to the basement, you hear men shouting and find Namjoon tied to a chair with a spotlight on him. You scan the space and find there are only three thugs. Easy. You pull your hair into a bun, zip up your jacket, and throw the hood over your head. You begin your walk toward them with your head down, the grocery bag making light rustling sounds at your side.

“Yah! Who are you? How’d you get down here?!” Yells one of the men. You continue your walk. “Are you dumb?” He continues trying to scare you as you pick up your pace. You stop just a few steps away, look at the man closest to you, and smugly smile while dropping the grocery bag.

“You boys have something of mine,” you flick your eyes to Namjoon and back to the man, “and I don’t play well with others.”

Before you knew it, all three men were knocked out cold, and your team was collecting the bodies —clean-up protocol.

“What took you so long?” Namjoon scoffs.

“Next time…I’ll quit and leave you for the wolves.” You chide and get in the backseat of a black SUV waiting to take you and Namjoon back to the secure apartment. He likes it when you get mad, says it’s hot, which pisses you off even more. You sit in silence with a blank stare while Namjoon admires you candidly. He reaches out to grab your hand, but you stop him, “Touch me and I will break your fingers.” Namjoon draws his bottom lip between his teeth before smirking and averting his eyes out his window.

You walk through the apartment door like a hurricane. Shoes get hurled in opposite directions, and you throw the plastic bag of art magazines and half-eaten gummy bears onto the kitchen island as you make your way to the bathroom.

Namjoon follows you like a puppy nipping at your heels. You start the shower and take your jacket off, tossing it forcefully to the ground. Namjoon’s eyes widen, “Shit! Are you okay!?” His eyes fixate on your white lace tank top, where blood stains a few places. You glance in the mirror at him standing behind you, innocent and sweet, undoubtedly concerned.

“Yeah, Gummy Bear…it’s not my blood.” You turn to look at him as you remove your top, exposing your bare breasts. You watch his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows hard. “See, everything’s fine. I need a quick shower. You wanna watch?” you snicker. He rolls his eyes and walks away. “Coward!” You call out behind him and giggle as you step into the hotter-than-hell water.

Namjoon has never struggled with resisting you. Your lewd advances and constant showing of skin leave little to the imagination— and he has a wild one. One that has him dreaming of all the things he wants to do with you— if only he weren’t so nervous to open that door. For now, he has fun riling you up and getting reactions, although he never intended for you to get hurt in the process.

Freshly showered, you slip on a baggy t-shirt and go to the living room, where Namjoon reads a magazine and eats gummy bears. He’s lying with one leg flung over the back of the couch, so you plop down by his crotch, throwing your legs over his one leg stretching on the couch seats, and close your eyes. Namjoon quickly sits up, seeming uncomfortable with your proximity. You put a hand on his chest to stop him from moving.

“Relax, Gummy Bear. I need to recharge, and this is so you can’t escape me.”

Namjoon lets out his unknowingly held breath, “Your lip…it’s…”

You curl your lip inward and flit your tongue on the cut, “Yeah. One of those assholes sucker punched me. It’ll heal.”

Eyes still closed, you feel Namjoon’s finger graze your laceration. He says nothing, but you can feel his apology. You open your eyes just enough to notice his stare has turned passionate. Heat spreads under your skin, and your heart begins to race.

“Gummy Bear, are you finally going to act on those impure thoughts?”

“Can I?” Before you can respond, Namjoon is shyly and gently pressing his lips to yours. Then he brushes his lips down your neck, nibbling and sucking, “I’m safe, thanks to you. How can I thank you, Daisy?”

You cringe at the name, and now the heat burns red like a demon. Giving a devilish smile, you pin him down on the couch and straddle his lap.

“What the fuck?!”

“You know I hate that name.” You wrap one hand around his throat, applying light pressure, reminding him how you are completely opposite of a fragile, little daisy.

He taps your arm frantically, and when you let up, he breathes heavily. “Fuck! You fucking terrify me!”

Your pussy clenches, sending a quiver through your body. You lean closer to him, “Mmm, talking dirty to me?”

Namjoon smirks, and you feel his dick twitch, “I want to do so many dirty things...What should I call you? Princess?”

“Fuck a princess, I’m a King.” You laugh mischievously.

He runs his hands up your thighs and tepidly lifts the hem of your shirt, exposing your pussy. He curses under his breath and firmly grasps your hips, then glides your naked core against his hardening cock. You take control of his hands and pull them up to your breasts while rocking your hips against his cock. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he damn near begs, “Fuck me, please!”

“Oh, Gummy Bear…I’m going to eat you alive.”

#kim namjoon fanfic #recommendation 💎#kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagines #moonleeai writes sometimes #bangtanwhq #bwhq ficstoric society

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moonleeai · 10 months ago

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I know I have reblogged this once before BUT ! this fic deserves more recognition!!

The brilliant play on the desires and agony of two lovers who won’t belong to each other due to their vast difference in status…to them finding a way! The way you write truly allows for us readers to feel every emotion and be immersed in the scene with the characters.

I loved their ending and especially the line:

“Seokjin wraps his arms around you, and you melt against him. You feel like safety, warmth, hope, and…most of all, home.”

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

Beautiful piece 💜

Masks & Merlot | KSJ

▻ Masks & Merlot ↳ ModernLegacyHeir!Kim Seokjin x Servant!Reader ⤜ Long-time pining/drunk love confessions ⤜ Childhood friends to lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 13,961 ⤜ Summary: Seokjin has a secret, one he hides behind a mask of responsibility and duty to his family, but a few bottles of wine have his lips loosening. Do you indulge his whispered confession or brush it off as merely merlot-colored fantasies?

⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, talk of death of a parent, talk of parent with terminal cancer, servitude mentality, heavily skewed power dynamics/objectification of women, physical parental abuse, heavy drinking, bad feelings, oral f. receiving, fingering, drunken advances, emotional gut-punching, biting, smacking/hitting, rough sexual advances, semi-hate sex, dom-ish!Reader, mildly subby Jin, cock claiming, vaginal sex, cream pie/unprotected sex, off-page gun violence Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Chapter 1. Masks

Chapter 2. Merlot

Story is complete.

A/N: Written for the BangtanWritersHQ Bangtanstrology Writing Event hosted by @hisunshiine My Big 3 are: Sagittarius Sun🔆(Member): Seokjin Aquarius Moon🌙(Where): Ballroom Capricorn Rising✨(Trope): Drunken Confessions

A special thank you to @hisunshiine and @downbad4yoongi for being A+ betas!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

#seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fanfic #bwhq ficstoric society #moonleeai review #bwhq #bangtanwhq #bts fanfic #jin fanfic

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colormepurplex2 · 9 months ago

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This is such a cute story, honestly. I love Hoseok/Jay (tehe) in this, his personality is so bubbly but also every inch the stage persona we've seen him have when he dances. But, also, the second line GOT ME.

"The highlight of your month was buying a cordless vacuum for your newly renovated hardwood floors—adult things."

Please, if that's not the most me thing ever lmao.

Spoilers below!

If it meant I could wear Hoseok's sweats and hoodies, I'd throw out my entire closet and take a trip to the arctic, just saying. And how about that impactful statement of:

There's only one bed.

On top of the honeymoon suite!? (Buddymoon made me laugh so hard, btw) The perfect recipe for *things* haha. But, honestly, I can actually see Hoseok booking the wrong hotel/not doing the research, and being completely confused when he arrives at a foot of snow when he thinks he is getting a tropical oasis. There are so many little bits throughout this story that just fit with Hoseok so much. When I think of Hoseok and the strawberries, my mind instantly goes "berry, berry, strawberry, " and it makes me so happy, haha.

Then you go and throw this at me:

"The subtle touch of his lips sends you into a freefall from the top of the mountain. Your heart shivers as he ignites a flame, thawing winter and bringing spring to life. "

Hello, how freaking beautiful is that?! Then had to go and crush me with

It doesn't have to mean anything.

GUTTED! Hoseok isn't a fool, but damnnnnn, I'm so glad he got his act together and made it up to the MC.

And, I'll end by saying, I'd call him Jay any day ;) because that was hot!

Namaste Collab: Teri Hasee Ka Noor

Title : Teri Hasee Ka Noor

Pairing : Hoseok x female reader

Word Count: 13.8k

City/State : Kashmir / Goa

Timeline : February / March

Rating : Mature 18+

Genre : travel au, friends to lovers, fluff, baby angst, SMUT

Warnings: unprotected sex, slow burn, explicit language

Summary : Hoseok takes best friend duties seriously and makes it his mission to cure your winter blues. He intends well by surprising you with a tropical vacation but it starts off colder than anticipated. Hoseok fixes his mistake in time for the hot weather to stir something in both of you, but will his flirty nature hinder the flame?

AN: The meaning of the title is “the radiance of your smile/laugh”. Thank you Baby Queen Jiya @btsstan12 (ao3) for the beautiful banner. It’s so much more than I expected and I love love love it as much as I love love love you.

A huge shout out to Jasz @downbad4yoongi, Sara, and Kari for beta reading this and helping me so so much! xoxo

Special thanks to @sugarwithtea , @btsstan12 (ao3) and @apotatomashedbybts for having me in your desi BTS fanfic collaboration! It was so fun learning about India! I hope you like my take on it ☺

Read More Stories here: Namaste Collab Masterlist

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Life is so boring sometimes. The highlight of your month was buying a cordless vacuum for your newly renovated hardwood floors—adult things. You love your job as a dance director at your best friend Hoseok’s dance academy. He keeps the days entertaining, but you’re tired of repeating the days in the same ways. Today, after teaching the last class of college dance majors, you helped Hoseok do the nightly cleaning of the studio. He blasts hip-hop music and moves rhythmically around while sweeping, and you wipe down the mirrors, watching how his body flows to the beat like a graceful bird gliding in the wind. He glances over and catches you staring, you quickly look away and grumble.

“Hurry up, Seok. I wanna go home.”

“For what? It’s not like you have plans!”

He wasn’t wrong. Your best friend of a few years knew exactly what you were going to do tonight. Nothing; your favorite thing. He used to get offended when you wouldn’t come out to clubs but quickly realized you just enjoyed the comfort of being home. Once he learned that about you, he started inviting himself to your place instead.

Hoseok is a man of many talents, but he’s most known for dance and his ability to choreograph and practice until perfection, spotting any slight flaws in a millisecond. The hottest dancer there is, was, and will ever be. His presence is a force known as J. Hope or Jay, his stage name. Hoseok is an above-average gentleman, J. Hope is the motivator everyone needs at the end of an exhausting practice, and Jay– well, he’s the performer with the sultriest moves.

The next song comes on, and you both pull your faces into surprised expressions. The song-- Troy Sivan’s “Youth”-- was one of your favorite duo choreos from back in the day. Quickly, you both jump into place and begin the dance from muscle memory. This time though, you two are a little too close, and Hoseok decides to improvise; instead of grabbing your hand at the end, he pulls your wrist up, raising your arm above your head, making you spin, and your back firmly presses into his torso. He places his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying your bodies together. You can feel your temperature rising, and the need to melt into his hold almost takes over.

“Ahh…I love this dance!” Hoseok nearly screams in your ear, forcing you to pull away, hand over your ear. He laughs and goes back to cleaning while you’re glad to have a reason to walk away. Hoseok is a very touchy-feely friend, and it never bothered you until recently. During the holidays, you were both single and spent too much time together. Too much because now... now you think you’re falling for him.

You both like the same music, the same movies, and you both love to dance. So many of the holiday nights turned into spontaneous dance battles or deep conversations about those things you equally enjoyed. His laugh was beginning to be your favorite sound, like poetry in pretty handwriting. Every giggle and smile from him filled your soul with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You finish the mirrors and watch him two-step to the trash can. He glances over as if he can feel your eyes on him and gives his charming smile. The smile that drew you in and made you crave his friendship. He embodies comfort, like the feeling of a favorite oversized sweater on a cold day, wrapping you in warmth.

“Let’s stay here and dance.”

“No, Seok. I’m hungry.”

“We can order takeout.” He walks over and reaches for your hand, but you pull away, knowing you’d give in to whatever he wanted once the slightest spark ignited your bones from his touch.

“Let’s go to my place… it’s close; we can grab food and move the couch to dance. Plus, I have all the alcohol.”

Hoseok watches you, amused by all the layers of clothing you put on as if you’re preparing for a snowpocalypse and your strawberry lip balm. He knows you are a tropical person at heart, and every winter, you believe it just may be your last. Your beach-loving, sun-soaking spirit is having the most challenging time battling winter blues this year, and Hoseok is going to fix that. He’s been planning something and intends to tell you tonight. Only if you would give him the time to do so; he’s been dying to say something but hasn’t found the right time all night, and now you’re rushing to get home.

“Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

“Oh, I was just…lost in thought.” He throws a midweight jacket on, “Let’s go!”

“At least put this beanie on, Seok! You’re going to get sick one of these days!” A hint of a smile plays on his lips as he gently takes the hat and turns away from you to hide his flushed cheeks. He’s always faintly enjoyed you taking care of him.

After grabbing food and arriving at your apartment, you hurriedly remove your shoes, rush over to your freestanding electric fireplace, and turn it on. Hoseok, still at the door hanging his jacket, tells you to throw your jackets over to be hung. Then you both sit at your coffee table in front of the fire to eat.

“So, I’ve been wanting to tell you some news.”

“What news?”

“I’m going to close the academy for a week and go on vacation.”

“Va–? What! To where? When?!”

He stifles a grin and tots his tongue over his teeth, “India.”

“In–! Are you serious right now? By yourself?”

“Well…no. I bought two tickets and have everything planned out. A week in a tropical place–”

“Jeong Hoseok! Who are you going with?”

“I was hoping… you?” The last word comes out so soft and shy you almost miss it.

“You’re serious?” Hoseok nods his head yes to your question. “O–Okay! Yeah! I’ll go!”

Cutely, his shoulders rise as he half states and half questions, “Soooo… we’re… going to India?”

“We’re going to India!” I could kiss you right now!

But you don’t; you settle for a tight embrace and huge smiles before you both return to eating. After a few beats of awkward silence, you’re looking up pictures showing each other beaches and cabanas. The excitement is too much to hold in, and you both surrender to fits of giggles. Hoseok throws his body into your lap and you’re enchanted by his comfortable sound.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

On the plane, you sit back and get cozy in the oversized seat. Thankfully Hoseok splurged a little for business class. The dijon yellow cushions and extra pillows make it feel like you’re sitting on the couch in the tranquility of your home.

Achoo! You look up in disgust as you were just sprayed unexpectedly. A child in front of you stands in their seat, looking at you. Snot running from their nose is enough to tell you they probably have a cold but– achoo!-- the menace is sneezing directly at you. You swat at the air to rid your space of the germs and scrunch your nose at the kid, making them turn around in their seat.

“Let’s look up the places and try to plan what to see and what to do before you lay this kid out,” Hoseok says, pulling the reservation up on his phone.

“More than the beach?” You laugh because that’s all you want to do. Sit in the sand and sun, letting your body absorb enough heat that might keep you content until summer arrives.

“Well… I saw a boat ride on Dal Lake. The boats are pretty, and yes, the beach, of course.” He shows you a screenshot that he took of a row of wooden boats painted in pastel colors with vibrant cushions. The boats are beautifully resting on a still body of water, but the background catches your attention. There are snow-capped mountains exquisitely reflected in the lake. Snow-capped. Snow.

“Seok, when was this picture taken?”

“Mmm, I just got it off the internet.”

You connect your phone to the Wi-Fi and ask for the resort’s name.

“Well, it’s two hotels because the package is split into like a north and west tour. Gulmarg and Goa. It was rated pretty high.” He pulls up the reservation and shows you the booking. You type in the first name.

“Hmm... How do you spell the city?” The first picture that came up showed a building with a snow-covered roof.

Hoseok spells it out as you slowly type in the name along with ‘things to do’ and choose the first option. You notice a few pictures with snow again.

“Seok. Did you happen to check the weather for this time of year?”

“What? No. It’s India. Isn’t it always hot?” You both stare at each other. As quick as uncertainty weighed on your chest, his candied hazelnut eyes swept it away, sweet and syrupy, glazing over any discomfort.

“Let me see the reservation again.” Kolahoi Green Resort, Gulmarg. A luxury resort is nestled near India’s most popular spot for skiing. Skiing. I can’t strangle him on the plane. Reading on, you also see he’s booked a honeymoon package, whatever that means. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Seok…maybe you should read the whole resort description.” You tilt his phone toward him and hold your finger under ‘skiing’ and ‘honeymoon’.

His expression turns into a panic. Eyes wide, he covers his mouth with his hand.

“I am so sorry. I swear I booked the beach package! I saw honeymoon packages, but I didn’t think I chose that one. I was only looking at the differences in price.”

You pull the phone back and start reading the entire reservation. There is, in fact, a beach for four days, but only after the one by the ski lodge for three days. Three days in the cold, which you just left. To say all excitement has left your body is an understatement. You immediately begin thinking about the lack of clothes you packed. Your suitcase is full of cute sundresses, tank tops, and shorts. You don’t even remember packing jeans. Luckily, there are the sweatpants and hoodie you’re wearing on the plane. Maybe, just maybe, it’s warmer now. You look up the weather in hopes of quelling your thoughts.

“Seok, I don’t know if I have enough warm clothes for three days in the cold. The temperature is like 11 to 15 degrees Celsius. I– I only packed dresses and–”

“I’m sure we can buy some clothes somewhere. You can also wear some of mine; you know I overpacked hoodies and sweats.” He goes into compassion mode, a voice of reason. There’s always a solution to a problem; he does just that as you both continue talking. His voice is a soothing palette of neutral tones, easing you into solace.

“Yeah.” You turn and stare out the window with your hands tucked under your thighs. Hoseok can feel how disappointed you are and will spend these hopefully not-too-cold days doing whatever he can to see you smile.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The resort is pretty. Not your cup of tea with the patches of snow still covering the surrounding property, but you can kind of see the appeal. The receptionist gives some information on the area and informs you that it’s the last weekend for skiing since it’s warming up.

Warming up. Ha! Skiing is the last thing on your mind, but Hoseok’s body wiggles, and his face lights up. When he turns to look at you, you return a small smile, feeling your cheeks heating up. As the receptionist hands over the key card, they congratulate you with best wishes, and you both walk away confused.

“What was that about?”

“No idea,” he rushes through those words to get to the next subject, “but would you want to snowboard tomorrow? The sign says they rent out everything, even snow gear.”

“Seok.” You press the button on the elevator, and the doors open instantly.

“Please! I promise I will do whatever you want if you do this with me!” Hoseok begs as the elevator ascends to your floor.

“I literally want to stay in a warm room the entire three days.”

“No way! The lake boat ride is here.”

“Okay. Then I want to be inside for the rest of the time.” You joke, waiting for him to open the door.

Hoseok scans the room key and holds the door open for you. You walk through and see pretty decorations. Gold balloon letters spelling ‘congratulations,’ flower petals leading to, as well as covering, the bed in a heart shape. The four-post bed has a canopy with sheer white linen cascading down, surrounded by fairy lights, illuminating a tray with a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and two glass flutes.

There’s only one bed.

Across from the bed is a large two-seater sofa in front of a gas fireplace. You walk further inside with Hoseok on your heels, following the flower petals that continue through sliding doors into a spa-like bathroom. Flameless tea lights and votives of various sizes cover every possible surface area. While everything is beautiful, you’re both still confused.

“What in the world?”

“Do you think they gave us the wrong room?”

You both walk back to the bedroom and find a card on the small table. You pick it up and read it aloud, “Congratulations, newlyweds. Best wishes from the Staff at Kolahi.”

Hoseok finds another note. “Look at this! It’s not a mistake. It has our names and ‘please call when you’re ready for your complimentary desserts.”

“You did book the honeymoon package, Hoseok!” You start laughing because, honestly, what else can go wrong?

Hoseok submerses in your laugh. He’s been worried, but now a warm tingle is stirring inside him, and his heart beats faster. He watches as you go back to the bathroom.

“Ah! It’s a jacuzzi! We have our own hot tub! I want to use this right now!”

Hoseok freezes at the words. A hot tub… in the room… where you both have to sleep… for three days. The beach is a vast open space, so being in a bikini among a sea of others is no big deal… but you’ll be wearing one so incredibly close. Intimately close. The blur of you walking by brings him back to the present.

He clears his throat as you walk to your suitcase, “Don’t you want to explore the area first? See what all is out there?”

“Oh. True. Yeah, let’s do that. We can use the jacuzzi to end the day. I could use a nap, too.”

“No naps. We have to get on this timezone. Come on! We’ll unpack later; let’s go look around.”

Down in the lobby, you sit on a loveseat in front of the fireplace while Hoseok talks to the receptionist. You pull out your phone and check to see how far the lake is that Hoseok is dead set on. It’s two hours away and all the way back by the airport. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, frustrated by the lack of planning. When you open them again, you see an activities book on a table next to you. You pick it up and start browsing through the pages.

There’s a gondola ride, shrine, temple, and three restaurants. Anything indoors sounds excellent. One of the restaurants is a glass igloo, and you immediately look for Hoseok to tell him, knowing he will love it.

He comes up beside you, and you flash the page so he can see the igloo.

“I was just about to tell you about that!” He plops down next to you, showing some notes he took on his phone from the receptionist. Pretty much everything in the book you’re holding. “They said the gondola is beautiful at sunset, so we could do that first. Then come back to eat–”

“Then jacuzzi!” You shriek, too excited for a night of relaxation.

Hoseok looks at you, baring a tight-lipped grin; your eyes trace the lines ending in dimples, then float to the mole on his upper lip. He unexpectedly jumps up, pulling you both from a haze and holds his hand out for you. You take it and make your way to the gondola.

Staring at the cables disappearing into the distance, you remember Hoseok’s fear of heights.

“Are you going to be able to do this?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.”

You both continue following the small crowd and chatting. You were cold at first, but the constant conversation has seemingly kept you warm by occupying your mind. Or maybe it’s his presence.

Closer to the front, you can see that the ride is in two parts–ten minutes to the first stop and then twelve to the last. The gondola fits six, but with the small number of attendees, you get a cable car to yourself. You sit across each other and observe the surroundings as it ascends the mountainside.

“I feel so dumb.” Hoseok sighs after the statement.

“What? Why?” you ask while sliding your lip balm over your lips. Hoseok watches and notices the way your lips shine afterward.

“For one, not checking the weather. And two, I had no idea there were huge mountains here!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t know either. Now we do.” You offer a smile, plumping your cheeks into two small plums. Hoseok melts into the seat, responds with a simple grin, and gazes back out the window.

You pass over pine trees and snow-submerged valleys. You stay on, opting not to get off at the first stop, and before you know it, you’re at the peak. You would’ve never known Hoseok was afraid of heights, at least on the outside. A frigid breeze slices across your bare face when you step off the gondola. Your body quakes as you follow people to a scenic point.

The setting sun plays peek-a-boo with the fluffy clouds, displaying pastel colors across the sky and a fiery glow on top of the mountains. Hoseok asks you to take fun photos of him, and you laugh while getting every angle possible. A lovely couple offers to take a picture of both of you, and you return the favor for them.

After a few more steps along the mountain’s edge, Hoseok grabs your wrist and starts jogging, “I’m done! It’s so cold!” You giggle, keeping up with him, and breathlessly throw yourselves back into a gondola. This time he sits next to you. When the door shuts, and the cable car begins descending, he wraps his arms around you. He wiggles and gets as close as possible, pulling you into him and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this; let’s warm up.” His warm breath strikes your neck, and a kaleidoscope of warmth ignites in your stomach. You rest your head against his and take a deep, shaky breath. That’s how you remain the entire ride down, quietly wrapped in each other as the light disappears from the sky. You’re tempted to ask what’s on his mind, but you also don’t want to read too much into his actions. He’s always been touchy in a friendly way, and you don’t want to ruin it.

After dinner, you walk back to the suite and discuss the delicious food. You can’t help but think about how great the hot water in the jacuzzi will feel. In the suite, you open your suitcase and pull out toiletries, pajamas, and bathing suits. You start to feel shy about the itty bitty fabric barely covering your ass. Hoseok watches you as your eyes flit from one to the other, then calls the receptionist to deliver the complimentary dessert, and then goes to turn on the water.

He comes back out with a robe for you as there’s a knock on the door. He gets the delivery and places it on the tray on the bed. You both marvel over the creative mithai charcuterie board; various ladoos, plain and chocolate-covered strawberries, sweet boondi, and kaju katli. After Hoseok takes a million pictures, he carries the tray of dessert and champagne into the bathroom and puts it on the shelf by the jacuzzi.

Coming back for the glasses, he mentions, “I’ll change in the bathroom. Take your time.” He closes the doors behind him, and you change before pulling the robe over your bikini. When you open the doors, he’s already in the water with the jets on full blast.

You stand at the edge of the jacuzzi, “Would you, maybe, close your eyes?” You chuckle before continuing, “This feels a little awkward.” He turns his head from you and closes his eyes with a massive grin. You drop the robe and quickly get in, sinking until the water is at your clavicle. “Okay. You can be normal again.”

Hoseok sits up, fills the champagne glasses and hands you one. “A toast to our buddymoon!”

You roll your eyes but still laugh, “You’re so corny.” You both clink your glasses and take a sip. “Did you try any of the desserts yet?”

“No. I wanted to wait for you. Do you want me to hold the tray in front of you?”

“Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. Will you hand me one of the diamond thingies?”

“According to the little guide, that is kaju katli: cashews, sugar, cardamom, and ghee.” You reach for it, but he’s already bringing it to your lips. As you open your mouth and let the sweetness hit your tongue, your lips graze his fingers, and your eyes briefly meet before looking away. He grabs one for himself and rests back against the basin.

After some time, you’re on your last glasses, having finished the bottle, and feeling relaxed. You both have been chipping away at the dessert and reveling in all the deliciousness.

Deciding it’s been enough time in the jacuzzi, Hoseok stands, and you notice how his shorts cling to his thigh muscles; he pulls at the fabric, easing the clinging fabric away from his groin. He steps out, drying off haphazardly, and walks to the bedroom, closing the door behind him again. You get out and dry off before donning the robe back on to join him. Standing at the minifridge, he pulls out a bottle of rosé, but all you can see is his waistband resting low across his hips, dangerously low, exposing a faint happy trail under his belly button. The dips and hills are graciously defined on his stomach, and you feel a warmth overtake your body. You raise your hand to your cheek in hopes of hiding the flush.

“Are you drunk already?” Hoseok teases.

“No! It’s just… hot.” You roll your eyes and motion toward the new bottle, “Where’d that come from?”

“It was in the fridge. Strawberry time!” He places the wine by the fireplace sofa and returns to the jacuzzi to get the fruit. You can’t help but smile at his excitement and the little noises he makes with every step to and from the bathroom. He motions for you to sit, pours the drink, and hands you a glass. You both reach for the same strawberry from the tray and then giggle at the chances. He grabs it, reaches toward your mouth, and watches intently as your lips wrap around the heart-shaped fruit forming a perfect pouty circle. You can’t unsee his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip as his eyes glaze over, trapping your attention like a mosquito in amber sap. You remember to chew when his eyes break from yours and roam down your slightly open robe. You reach for the neckline to close it, and he turns away, grabbing a strawberry for himself before sliding against the back of the sofa. “You’re right… it’s really warm in here.”

You clear your throat, eyes on the flames. “So…one bed. Looks like we’re going to be pretty close.”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to have something to keep me warm tonight.”

The night ends with bellies full of wine and dessert and happily planning the next day of adventure. You have absolutely no desire to snowboard, but Hoseok’s sunshine smile and light laughter seep into your heart. You want nothing more than to continue seeing his smile and hearing his laugh.

In the bed, you both lie facing the ceiling like statues when he breaks the silence. “Can we like… cuddle?”

You snicker at first, but the idea of it sounds lovely. “Sure, why not.”

Hoseok falls asleep quickly with his arms and legs wrapped around and over you, while you lay there, calming your racing heart in his grasp.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Slightly waking, you adjust your body, rolling on your side as something rigid grazes your hip, eliciting a hiss from Hoseok. “Shit! Sorry, Seok!” Startled, you sit up and fling your legs over the bedside, jolting yourself awake.

“You didn’t have to jump away. It just–”

“No, no. I should get up anyway. Snowboarding, right? Let me start getting ready.

Ignoring everything that happened, you both take turns in the bathroom to get ready and head to the lobby area. First, you stop in the gift shop and buy matching ‘I love Kashmir’ long-sleeve t-shirts to go under your hoodies, then proceed to the rental shop. You’re not thrilled while standing in line, dreading the cold and the effort and energy snowboarding takes, but your soul is soaking in the radiant smile coming from Hoseok.

To add more dread, you had hoped to look at least cute while being drained of all excitement, but the shop has the hottest trends from the 1990s in snow bibs, boots, and boards. You settle for the rose brown and black gear and a snowboard with a pale purple bottom. Hoseok, on the other hand, chose to pair the ugliest of every color together and call it ‘fashion.’ You won’t lose him in the crowd.

A few passes on the bunny slope, and you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. As you both glide over the lift, you look for the signage that informs riders which slopes are the easiest to hardest—usually, a color scale. Here, there are only signs stating zones one through four.

“How do we know where to get off?” you ask while staring, puzzled at the signs.

“Beginner slopes are always the first stop, I think.”

“Seok! I need facts, not guesses. Didn’t the brochure say the locals use the first one to get around to other villages?” Hoseok shrugs and continues with the flow of the line. When you reach the front of the line, Hoseok asks the operator where to get off and they confirm ‘one.’

“I guess it’ll be a surprise.” Your nerves are a wreck, and as much as you want to have fun, for Hoseok’s sake, you can’t get into the right mindset.

You both get off at the first stop and glide down the path to make way for others behind you when you quickly realize this slope is not for you. It’s not steep, but the rivets and snow conditions make it least favorable for a novice like yourself.

Hoseok yells that he’ll meet you at the bottom, and you watch as he gracefully swoops across the mountain slope. You watch a woman wearing neon teal pants drift delicately right behind him. How you wish that were you.

You ride on your heels the first bit, destroying your thigh muscles like lava is coursing through the veins. You glide to the side, out of the main path, and fall on your butt to take a break. Watching people pass by, even kids, you curse under your breath and hold back tears of frustration. A pep talk would be nice, but the one best at those just left you to your demise.

A few deep breaths, and one too many children passing you, gives you very little motivation but enough to hop back up and continue down the slope. Your thighs are on fire, but you alleviate the pain by using other muscles, which also gives more speed-- speed you don’t want. You panic and tense up, causing you to dig your toes too far into the snow, making the edge catch, and you brace for impact. You hit the ground face first, so hard your body goes into a forward roll; your goggles rip off as your head clashes with the firm snow, and all air expels from your lungs.

Hoseok yells your name a few times from behind and stops next to you frantically.

“Are you o– is there– are you hurt?!”

You take a few short breaths to test your lungs for proper functionality. Quietly you let out, “No but– that hurt. So fucking bad!” Then tears begin to prickle, and emotions are ready to boil over, “I’m done! I didn’t come here to be freezing my ass off in the snow or to be bundled up like this!” You break down into the ugliest of cries while your shoulders bounce up and down from the force of your sobs. “I wanna go back to the rooooooom,” you whine while sniveling.

You look at Hoseok through hazy eyes, but his face turns away from you. He is likely holding back a giggle in hopes of not upsetting you more. He clears his throat and faces you with a gentle smile and twinkle in his eyes. It soothes you enough that tears stop falling, and you begin to feel warm. Hoseok pats your head and uses his glove to wipe your face, then rests his hand on yours.

“Let’s take the boards off and walk down. I’ll get you some spiked hot chocolate.” You nod your head, and he unclasps your bindings first.

Walking down the mountain silently makes you feel bad for what you said.

At the bottom, you prop the boards in the holding area when the woman in neon pants appears. You watch as a scene from a drama unfolds, and before you know it, Hoseok is walking with her as they flirt back and forth. Your eyes dance between the two, noticing how smiley they are. You feel like an outsider. Your hand is balled tightly by your side, and when you can’t stand the pain of your nails digging into your palm any longer, you shake it off and walk past them into the lodge.

You order your drink and find a table to sit at. Jealousy has reared its ugly head, and you’re fighting with yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You can’t feel this way for your best friend. You take a sip and let the alcohol flush the jealousy down into the pit of your stomach.

Hoseok finds you and sits beside you with his body angled toward you. “Here you are. Why’d you leave?”

“If you want to keep riding, go ahead. I don’t want to make you miserable.”

He reaches up and places both hands on the sides of your cheeks. His thumbs swoop under your eyes, wiping the last remnants of tears. “I promise you. I’m having a great time.”

Radiant. His warm touch and kind words weave into your soul alongside the space occupied by his smile and laugh. Serene. Your body relaxes in the window seat and immediately feels every ache and pain from your tumble. You roll your neck around and pause in the areas that need more stretching.

“Do you want to get a massage?” He pulls out his phone, “I’m pretty sure I saw one here.”

“No, no. A good stretch and maybe the jacuzzi will be enough.” You both stare out the window at the snow-covered nature. Taking a gulp of courage, you say, “Sorry, Seok. What I said on the slope was mean, rude, and uncalled for.”

“Would you stop that? I had fun, now let’s do something you want. You wanna get in the jacuzzi then order in for dinner?” Hoseok notices how your eyes light up like a candle at the mention of food.

“Yes! Let’s get different dishes to try new stuff. Chicken and beef, maybe?” Now it’s your turn to pull out your phone and find the room service menu you took pictures of. “Oh, look, lamb! Butter chicken and lamb biryani? Or maybe curry? Oh! Hummus! And garlic naan! What?! There’s so much!”

“I love how excited you get over food.” He chuckles, “I’ll look up pictures, and if it looks good, we get it.”

You replay his words in your mind. Love. How did he mean that? Does he feel something like you? Or was it more of a friendly love? You glance his way, eyes soaking in his profile. You must’ve stared a little too long because he meets your gaze. Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped lips, and you can’t help but wonder if they feel as pillowy as they look.

“You okay?” His voice forces you to finally blink and look down at his phone.

“Yeah. This set looks good.” You point to a picture, and he takes a look.

“Okay. It’s settled. I’ll order while you’re getting blasted by the jets.”

Finished with your drinks, you return all the snow gear to the rental shop and head to the suite. Hoseok runs the water for you and turns on some of the flameless tea lights. He sets his phone in the corner, plays a Lofi Bollywood playlist, shuts off the light fixture, and walks out. You carry your bathing suit into the bathroom and close the door.

Hoseok lies on the couch, closes his eyes, and surrenders to the sound of the jets and soft music. He imagines the bubbles around your collarbones; your eyes closed, body relaxed. A throb sends a jolt through his stomach, but he places a hand on his groin and adjusts to calm himself down. You call for him, and his body freezes, lifting his head to ensure you’re not standing there.

“Come join me. I’m bored, and this music is so relaxing. I think you’ll enjoy it too.”

“I can hear it out here.”

“Please?”

There’s a flutter in his chest, and he’s changing to join you.

You smile at him as he walks through the threshold and close your eyes when he enters the basin. You both don’t say a word but enjoy every second of your closeness. The water feels electrified as you chat away.

Later, with bodies relaxed and bellies full, Hoseok pulls you into a hug on the couch.

“I hope you’re having an okay time. I’m excited to see all the cute dresses you packed for the beach tomorrow.”

“Any time spent with you is a great time, Seokie. Thanks for bringing me. I promise not to throw any more tantrums,” you chuckle at the last word and pinch his ribs in an effort to break away.

“Hey!” He laughs and smacks you with a pillow. “Wanna finish the night watching the sunset from the balcony? Then a nightcap by the fire?”

“Sounds perfect.”

You couldn’t think of any other way you’d love to spend the evening. Well, maybe cuddling again, but for now, sunset and a drink with your best friend, who you adore, and possibly more, sounds like a truly perfect night.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

A few hours later, Hoseok wakes to vibrations in the bed and discovers you shivering. He pulls the quilt up to your neck and wraps his limbs around you before feeling that you are soaked. He sits up, trying to see anything in the pitch black, getting his eyes to focus on you. He swipes his hand across your forehead and gasps at the heat that comes off you. He briskly walks to the bathroom, turns the light on low, then kneels by your bedside to better understand what’s happening. You whine as he tries to wake you.

He calls your name softly while rubbing a hand down your back, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“S–so cold,” you mutter as he watches sweat bead on your forehead.

“I’m gonna go get you medicine. Drink some of this water for now.” He helps sit you up against some pillows and slowly guides the water bottle to your lips. After a few sips, he hurries out of the room and to the lobby mini-mart in hopes of getting you something to aid in breaking your fever.

When he comes back into the room with two rustling bags, you look at his hands bewildered. He unpacks an array onto your side table: ginger tea, bananas, children’s applesauce squeeze bags, chicken noodle soup, a box of jello, orange juice, and Gatorade.

“I thought you were getting medicine?”

“I mean, these are the natural way, right? But I have more.” He grabs the second bag and unpacks a variety of cold medicine in liquid and pill forms.

“Seok! What–” Your head pounds at your words, and you close your eyes as if that will stop it. You take a deep breath, open your eyes and turn toward the side table. You reach for the box of jello and scoff, “How were you going to make this?”

“Hmm…not sure, but I will figure it out if you want it.” He grabs the box from you and starts reading the directions.

“Seok, I probably just have a cold from that kid sneezing on me. A fever at most; I’m not puking.”

“Right! Um…tea? Soup?”

“How about medicine and a cool rag so I can go back to sleep?” You smile at his thoughtfulness, but keeping your eyes open becomes more difficult.

Hoseok opens the medicine, opting for a liquid form, and brings it to your lips to drink. Then he grabs a cool cloth for you, places it over your forehead, and gently rubs his hand over your hair. You scoot down to lie comfortably and begin to relax again. You hear Hoseok rustling around, turning off lights, and getting changed for bed again. He snuggles up close to you, wrapping you in his hold. You can feel yourself drifting into dreamland when his hushed voice brushes the side of your neck.

“I went overboard, huh?”

“I didn’t expect anything less from my Seokie,” you whisper. He warms at your words and buries himself further into you. Even with a fever, you could still feel his radiance healing you deep inside.

Sometime in the twilight hours, Hoseok woke again, but this time you were talking…or more like mumbling. He raised his head and blinked heavily several times to ward off the grogginess.

“I like your lips.” He heard you say softly.

“Hm?” he asked quietly.

“Heart-shaped clouds. Pretty clouds.” He grinned, feeling a kaleidoscope swarm in his belly, then leaned into you and kissed your cheek. He watched as a smile swept across your lips and thought you looked like an angel, fast asleep.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The next morning you feel like a brand new person. You stretch and realize Hoseok isn’t next to you. You sit up, and just as you’re about to call for him, he walks in with a beaming smile and a mug of ginger tea. He hands it to you as you make room for him to sit.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. How are you feeling?”

“So much better! I’m glad it was just overnight. We have so much more to see!”

Hoseok clears his throat and looks toward the ground, “Do you happen to remember what you dreamt about last night?”

“Dream?” You think for a few seconds, “I don’t think I had any,” you lie, bringing the mug to your mouth. You did remember. However, you weren’t going to tell him you dreamt of his lips, soft and pillowy, pressed against yours. Or how his hands felt like heaven as they rested on your waist while his tongue moved slowly over yours. A heat was creeping up your neck from the recollection.

“None at all?”

“Nope. Why?”

“No reason. I just thought I heard you say something in your sleep.” Hoseok snickers and hops off the bed.

“What? What did I say?”

Hoseok sing-songs from the other room, “Just nonsense.”

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Today was a smidge warmer than the others, and for that, you were thankful because Hoseok was still dead set on taking a shikara ride on Dal Lake. With your suitcases in the trunk, the taxi made its way to Srinagar. You asked the driver about the weather and how cold it may be on the lake. He reassured you the boatmen would have blankets to help keep you warm.

When you arrived, the scenic view took your breath away. The snow-capped mountains staggered along the horizon against an unblemished blue sky, towering over their reflection on the lake. Your suitcases were taken to a houseboat for courtesy storage, and you both set foot on the shikara—a beautiful wooden yellow boat with a half-bed on one side and a bench on the other. The cushion is covered in red velvet with a black floral print, and the boat’s roof has vibrant blue curtains draping down but drawn back elegantly so you can see the scenery. As you get comfortable among the cushions, the man hands you a rich red and gold-toned blanket.

The man rows and speaks, “Welcome to the second-largest lake in the Kashmir valley. We call it the ‘Jewel in the crown of Kashmir’.”

“May I ask why?” you question.

“Well, not only is it an important source of fishing and water plant harvesting, but it’s also a beautiful, tranquil piece of nature. It sits against the backdrop of the gorgeous Himalayas.”

He continued to explain that people live in the houseboats lined along the bank. How the lake was usually bustling in the warmer months with floating markets and locals selling food and drinks. A few were working, but it wasn’t worth it without many tourists. He rowed to a houseboat with a shop where you bought hot tea and then navigated to a souvenir market where you bought a few trinkets for memories.

The guide continued his journey around the lake while you and Hoseok snapped pictures and awed at the beauty over and over. With the Himalayas in the background, the guide slows the boat to a stop and gestures toward a chest full of garments, traditional Kashmiri attire with authentic accessories.

“Would you like to put some on for a picture?”

“Oh! Um it’s–” you begin, but the guide cuts you off.

“Honeymoon package, yes?” You and Hoseok look at each other and smile.

“Right…yes.” You reach for a magenta ghunghat with a gold embroidered border and drape it over your head, “Like this?”

“Yes, yes. Beautiful.” The guide takes a few shots at different angles and then commands, “Now kiss.”

“I’m sorry?!” You both bark but with smiles.

“Newlywed pose! You must kiss with this background.” The man gestures his hand around, emphasizing the beautiful scenery.

While he’s right about the scenery, you can’t help but wonder if he would be offended if you said there was a mistake. You’re not really newlyweds. You turn toward Hoseok, who is already grinning from ear to ear. Hoseok giggles and you can feel your body flush, even in the cold air.

“It’s just a kiss,” Hoseok says calmly. The way the words and your name flow from his mouth is music to your ears. They float around your head and cause a dizzy spell as his lips creep toward yours. The subtle touch of his lips sends you into a freefall from the top of the mountain. Your heart shivers as he ignites a flame, thawing winter and bringing spring to life.

The guide clears his throat, and Hoseok pulls away first. Just a kiss that has now set a fire within your heart.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

There was mostly small talk from Dal Lake to the airport and even less on the plane to Goa. You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, especially with the one who ignited them and probably didn’t feel the same.

You watched episode after episode but had no idea what the story was because you were playing the kiss repeatedly in your mind. You tried to nap but were restless from the lingering tingle of that moment. Hoseok, on the other hand, was sound asleep. One more reason you knew he didn’t feel anything.

Hoseok faked being asleep, shoving his feelings away and jamming them so far down they couldn’t threaten to escape in a confession right there in row seven. He would peek and steal glimpses of you, and when you had your eyes closed, he would trace his finger over his lips, craving to taste your strawberry lip balm again, yearning to feel– whatever that feeling was deep in his stomach when your mouth molded to his.

The taxi ride to the beachfront hotel is full of excitement. Already the weather was hotter, and you could smell the salt in the air. You hung your hand out of the open window, making the slightest little movements to your fingers to let the wind carry your hand into ‘catching waves.’ Hoseok basked in your happiness and watched the wind breeze across your face and jostle loose strands of hair.

Check-in to the hotel was smooth, and you were given yet another honeymoon suite, much like a villa. Although this time, you couldn’t complain. You felt like a liar but also spoiled and enjoyed every minute. This luxury villa has its own personal plunge pool surrounded by tropical plants and flowers. The lush lawn surrounding the pool and the gorgeous view of the sea from the verandah made the setting a romantic oasis.

Staring out at sea, Hoseok’s hand brushes your lower back, sending chills down your spine. “What do you want to do tonight?” he asks softly.

“You wanna just hang out here and adventure out tomorrow? We could swim and eat dinner. There’s still a few hours before sunset; maybe we could watch it from here?” You feel yourself rambling, but if you stopped, the feelings from earlier would surely emerge again. Your mind begins spiraling, wondering if staying in was a bad idea. Maybe out in public, you wouldn’t be nervous, you would be able to act normal. “Or–”

“I like that idea,” Hoseok quickly cements the plan to be together, alone, in your villa.

Not much later, you’ve ordered a pitcher of a coconut-based cocktail to drink during your swim. Dinner and wine are set to be delivered before sunset. Music plays while Hoseok lays on an inflatable pool float, and you lay on a chaise to soak in some of the sun you’ve been dying to stain your skin. Twenty scorching minutes later, you’re ready to cool off. You reach for Hoseok’s cup and pour both of you another before setting the pitcher closer to the pool’s edge and make your way into the refreshing water.

Hoseok has been watching from behind his sunglasses. The way the sun illuminates your skin and accentuates every curve. The barely there bathing suit covers just enough, letting his imagination go wild, too wild. An ache arises between his legs, and he groans before falling into the water to cool off and calm down.

You walk over to Hoseok’s float, and he swims to meet you there. Handing him both glasses over the float, you dip into the water and then rest your arms on the other side.

“What is on your agenda here, Seokie?”

“Mmmm, well, I thought you would just want to lay on the beach all day, so I didn’t actually plan anything. There’s water sports, some old monuments, and lots of clubs and parties. I think I saw something about a sunset cruise.”

“While all that sounds interesting…I am only interested in sun, sand, and saltwater! But, for you, my Seokie, I will make an exception for parties and maybe a cruise.”

You raise your glass toward Hoseok, and he matches your gesture, clinking his glass against yours. You both chug back the contents, finishing the liquid. Hoseok takes the cups to the side of the pool and fills them again.

“Let’s go sit in the little nook.” Hoseok nods toward the built-in bench. It’s so tranquil; you both are leaning back, eyes closed, with your arms resting on the stone surrounding the pool. Hoseok speaks first, “I kinda like when you call me your Seokie.”

Your heart gallops at the sound of his voice. Slowly, you open your eyes and turn your head, catching sight of his lips. Your bottom lip curls between your teeth, but as your eyes rise, something catches your attention over his shoulder: a not-so-cute gecko inches from his arm.

“It’s a cute nickname, yeah? Can we switch seats? I think the sun is better where you are.” You tell a quick fib hoping to keep him calm. “I’ll go over you; just slide this way.”

Hoseok obliges, and as you’re straddling his lap. His eyes can’t help but fixate on your chest. He lets out a huff of air which hits between your breasts, triggering goosebumps to rush over your skin. You ignore the sensation and cup some water in your hand to splash the reptile away, but Hoseok’s hand touches your leg lightly, drawing your attention. You look down at him with dreamy eyes. His candied hazelnut richness sticks to your soul and pulls your heart with its gooey sap. Your skin tingles as you recall the kiss on the lake while his other hand slowly slides up your other leg.

Then, the universe had other plans, changing time into slow motion.

The gecko betrays you, moving just enough to attract attention. Hoseok jerks under you, squeals, and stands up, sending you back into the pool. As you swim back to the nook, Hoseok prances and yips his way back into the villa.

You giggle and rise to your feet to step out and refill drinks. You call out while pouring the last of the cocktail mix, “Seokie, it’s safe!”

He peeks his head out of the cracked door, “You sure?”

“Yes, scaredy cat, come on.”

Hoseok slowly walks out, watching where he steps, then takes the glass from you. “Dinner should be here soon. We should get cleaned up and go inside.”

“I wanna watch the sunset while we eat.”

“We can see it from the window. There are things out here.”

“I thought we were gonna do what I wanted since I endured the freezing cold and went snowboarding and got sick,” you whine.

Hoseok’s lips stretch in a straight line across his face, and his dimples make a full display. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, moving toward you to grab your hands with his. “For you, I will eat with the creatures.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff and try to pull away, but Hoseok doesn’t let go. You scrunch your eyebrows and search his face for a reason, but he only smiles with a gaze that caresses your soul. Hoseok seems like he wants to say something, so you wait; his mouth opens as the doorbell sounds.

“Food delivery.” Hoseok releases your hands and walks toward the door. You stand there for a second longer, trying to assess what just happened.

The food is brought in by multiple staff and laid out gorgeously on the dinette, and each dish has a tag placed next to it with a description. An oversized center plate has fish thali and a few smaller plates and bowls with rice, crab masala, butter-garlic calamari, vindaloo, and naan. They also placed dessert trays full of sweet bread with perad– or guava cheese– sweet turmeric cakes called patoleo, and a bowl of melted chocolate surrounded by coconut cookies. To make things even better, two bottles of alcohol that are popular in the area, coconut Feni and a rich Syrah wine from a local vineyard, are provided with the food.

The staff leaves and your stomach rumbles in the silence. Apparently loud enough for Hoseok to hear as well.

“Wow! You must really be hungry. I’ll make the plates; you pour the drinks.”

Time passes too quickly while eating on the verandah. The two of you have yet to run out of things to talk about, and this new adventure to India has just given you even more to discuss.

Delicious food, full-bodied wine, and a sunset later, you take a dip in the pool one last time before heading to bed. It’s illuminated with soft purple lights, giving off a milky way appearance. Hoseok sets up the Lofi Bollywood playlist again, and you both float peacefully together.

When the peppery syrah runs out, you’re both tipsy and a little tired from being in the sun for most of the day. You both have kept your distance, mostly just floating on the pool floats and admiring the star-studded sky. When you both decide to clean up and call it a night, you stumble inside after each other, laughing and pulling at one another to get to the shower first.

Hoseok wins by a quick battle of rock, paper, scissors and is off to shower first. You take another gander at the food and do some picking before grabbing your clothes to change into.

When Hoseok walks out with only a towel, your mind goes blank while your eyes fixate on a few drops of water beading along his v-line. He voices it’s your turn, and you quickly grab your clothes, beelining to the bathroom. Hoping the warm water would sober you up before bed was wishful thinking. When you step out to grab your towel, you lose your balance, bang into the wall, and start giggling to yourself.

“You okay in there? Did you fall?”

“Nope! Just a little…bump. I’m fine!”

“Do you need…help?”

“No! I’m not dressed, Seok! Don’t come in!” You can feel your cheeks flush a hot crimson while you dry off. Why is his voice so sexy right now? You wrap the towel around you and look in the mirror, then tap your hands on your face a few times. The sound of music grabs your attention, so you snap out of it and reach for your clothes. Only to find there is just a T-shirt. Somehow you forgot underwear. You shake your head and put your shirt on, realizing it’s not yours.

Well, this will be awkward. You open the door and scan the room for Hoseok, but he must be in the other room. Before he notices, you beeline to your suitcase to find your hairbrush, undergarments, and another shirt that’s not his. You find everything and turn to go back into the bathroom.

“Is that my shirt?” he asks from the threshold. You wince at being caught red-handed.

“I accidentally grabbed it! Sorry! I know you hate when people wear your clothes. I came out to get my shirt, and I will change.” You lift your hand to show your shirt and inch back to the bathroom, but something holds you back. Hoseok’s hand is around your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Let’s go dance.”

“Let me finish getting dressed.”

“Nope!” Hoseok pulls you into the other room, where he’s moved some furniture and made space for dancing. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he pulled you into him, taking the items from your hand and tossing them onto the nearby chair. That’s when you see you grabbed a lacey lavender thong instead of the boy shorts you usually wear when sleeping. Embarrassed, you go to hide them, but he keeps a firm grip.

“Seok, I need to finish getting dressed.”

“You’re dressed enough. Dance with me,” he whines, and you search his eyes for any hint of his mood.

“You’re kinda cute when you whine,” you tease and bop his nose with your finger.

“And you’re kinda cute in my shirt.”

His words take you by surprise, and you look away but his hand catches your chin and pulls your attention back to him. You look into each other’s eyes as he sways you back and forth. He smiles and you feel warmth bore into your skin. He removes the towel from your head and drops it to the ground. Your mind is already foggy from the wine, but now this– whatever this is– adds to the cloud. He raises your hand above your head, making you spin. You clutch at the hem of your shirt as it lifts, exposing the side of your upper thigh and buttcheek. Hoseok pulls you back into him, face to face, and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, maintaining eye contact. You’re dizzy; from the wine or the spin, maybe both. The music you forgot was playing stops abruptly, and you both stutter-step, clashing your feet together.

“I guess we’re tipsy, huh?” he says just above your ear. “Maybe we should get to bed. We have to wake up early for the tour, right?” He hugs you tight, then walks toward the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your thoughts. Your body, hotter than the sun, almost collapses under your weak knees.

Completely forgetting about your hair and undergarments, you follow in his footsteps. All of the lights are off save for the one on your side of the bed. Hoseok is waiting for you, covers lifted for you to get in. You sit on the bed and reach to turn the light out, then assume the position you’ve been sleeping in for days. As you scoot back into Hoseok, his arm rests just under your breasts, his hand sliding between your ribs and the bed. You can feel how the shirt has bunched under his arm, and the hem rests just above the bottom of your butt.

Hoseok thinks about how close he was to kissing you again, feeling your lips rest on his. He can feel how doughy your breasts feel on his arm, and he’s fighting the urge to squeeze them in his hands. He imagines how they would fit perfectly in his palm, his fingers massaging into your flesh. He tilts his pelvis back a little, feeling a sensation between his legs, and he lets out a sigh.

Hoseok’s breath tickles the back of your ear, sending a vibration down your spine, your back arches sending your ass into his half-hardened member. He pulls his lower half back from you and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“S–sorry, Seok.”

“Please be still,” he whispers.

Hoseok raises his head only for his wet lips to catch the skin on your neck. You gasp and stir again, sending his hips into a frenzy. Unable to ignore the feeling, he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. Your hips roll again, this time against a rock-hard Hoseok. He lets out a shaky breath, and his arm across your chest pulls you closer.

“I want you,” he mutters along with your name against the crook of your neck before dusting your neck and shoulder with his lips. He pulls his arm from your chest and brushes the underside of your breasts. His hand traces your ribs and follows the curve of your body. He stops on your hip, digs his fingers into your flesh, then does the same to your breasts while slowly thrusting into your backside. He feels good. Too good. He pushes himself up onto his elbow and pulls you under him.

It’s dark, but he still searches for your eyes when he places his hands on either side of your head, then lowers his body onto you. His lips, those beautiful lips, push onto yours and part them just enough for his tongue to swipe across yours. You follow his lead and press your tongue to his, your hand snaking up to his nape and the other dragging your nails down his back. Hoseok shivers and moans, moving one hand to your ass, pulling you into his throbbing manhood. He grinds against your aroused button and swallows the mewl that escapes your mouth.

You feel euphoric, and part of you wants to go all in with Hoseok. The sober part realizes this may just be the alcohol speaking. You wouldn’t regret it, but what if he will? What if his flirty self isn’t thinking straight and is just being a man chasing his sexual desires in the moment? Hoseok lets go of your ass and moves his thumb against your core; he coats his thumb in your slick and uses it to slide against your nub with intense pressure and slow rubbing. Juicy lips wedge together between his tongue, languidly dragging it along yours.

“Wait, Seok. Wait,” you mumble against his lips breathlessly. He stills and meets your eyes. “May–maybe we should wait until we’re both completely sober.”

Hoseok passionately kisses you again, following an imaginary line down your jaw to your neck. He sucks the skin into his mouth gently. “Is that what you want?” His teeth graze your clavicle, then he nibbles and chuckles at your arching body. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

His weight is crushing you, much like the words– suffocating your senses– and there is no way out. There isn’t enough air to help you overcome the punch to the gut. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It sounds like something someone would say when they were just scratching that itch.

“I–I think it’s best,” your voice trails off like you have more to say, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Okay. You’re probably right.” He briefly stays on top of you, then slides off to your side. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line.”

“That’s not it… I don’t want us to regret anything we did while intoxicated.”

“Makes sense.” There’s a long pause before he continues, “Can I still use you as my body pillow?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

It doesn’t have to mean anything. Easy for him to say.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The four days in Goa are going quickly, too quickly. You’ve mostly spent them relaxing on the beach, finding adorable cafes, and avoiding what happened and what was said the first night. Even though you said you only wanted to sunbathe and party, you made sure to experience the local culture.

You walked a beautiful heritage tour through a place blending Portuguese and Indian traditions. The quaint streets were lined with traditional Portuguese-style homes in a palette of bold, bright colors—breathtaking preservation of heritage amongst modern development.

One day also consisted of a bus ride to the jungle and trekking to a waterfall. The private tour guide told you the water had minerals like a natural spa where you could sit and relax to rejuvenate, but they forgot to mention the little fish that would surround you, and Hoseok’s scream was too embarrassing to stay.

Today was your last full day, and you were determined to soak up every last second you could in the sun. The morning was spent walking along the shoreline, and this afternoon was spent by the pool. You promised Hoseok tonight would be spent at the club because it was the last night to do so. He wanted to dance badly.

You made sure to have enough time for a shower and a nap. The nap turned into another cuddle session that was quickly becoming your favorite way to sleep. The way Hoseok’s body molded to yours felt too good ever to let go. You were also growing accustomed to his warmth and how his lips would sometimes skim over your skin. But you kept a wall around your heart again, only thinking of it as a friendly snuggle.

It was time to get ready for the club, so you took your outfit into the bathroom. Hoseok gets dressed into his white button-down shirt and yellow shorts, then begins making pregame drinks, and you can hear him making little sounds while he concentrates. It made you recall a few nights ago; you heard little moans while his body subtly rutted into yours. You didn’t wake him or mention it because it was thrilling and made you want more. You wanted to take his hand and place it where you really needed to feel the friction...

“Do you need help in there?” Hoseok says right outside the door.

You shook your head, looking in the mirror, wondering when you even got dressed. Your outfit was a khaki knit romper. It was backless save for the lace-up string to hold it in place. It looked perfect against your tanned skin with gold hoop earrings and three layered gold necklaces. Keeping your hands behind your back, you realize you need help tying it.

Holding the top, you opened the door with one hand behind your back. “I do, actually,” you swallow hard, noticing his bulged eyes, “can you –uh– tie it, please?”

Hoseok couldn’t blink. His brain was malfunctioning, and his heart was tearing through his chest. He stumbled backward, then nodded his head yes. You turned slowly, and his eyes roamed every millimeter of your figure. The khaki color accentuated your tan, the perfect sun-kissed, silky skin. He tied the strings and noticed how the shorts ended just below your ass cheeks. He spun you around and looked at the front.

“Y–you can’t wear this,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Hm? Why not?” You turn toward the mirror, twisting, looking for something wrong.

“It’s basically see-through!” he scolds.

“I have pasties on…can you see them? Can you see my underwear?”

Hoseok feels like he’s going to have a cardiac episode. “No. Well, I mean–I– I don’t know. I’m not looking that hard.”

“Well, look! I need to make sure before we go out.”

He steps back again, and you feel naked under his gaze as you slowly turn, making sure everything is in place.

“One bend or squat and your ass will be out.”

“Who cares? Not like we’re going to see these people ever again.”

“Right. Okay, looks good. I’m just gonna pee before we go.” He walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Now you’re wondering if the outfit is too much. You walk into the bedroom, check yourself out, and decide you look hot and ready to party. Something else crosses your mind as you let your thoughts drift to the other night, how Hoseok raked his hands over your body. How you molded into him while your tongues did the tango. When one of his hands caressed your breast and the other sought to pleasure you? The excitement ends when you also recall, ‘It doesn’t have to mean anything’.

You snap out of it when you hear the bathroom door open, “Ready for the drinks?” he calls out. You both down some shots, quickly sip the cocktails, and then start walking to the club.

You both arrive at the club tipsy and giggly. The booming bass takes over your bodies, and you float rhythmically to grab a drink and then hit the dance floor. Dancing together feels good. His sparkling smile penetrates your heart like the sun’s rays penetrate the Earth’s atmosphere. Drunk off the excitement, and you find yourselves getting closer and closer. You’ve slowed from the beat and look up into his eyes, glossed over from bliss. He leans down as if to say something but the song changes.

He can’t stop his body from reacting, and he’s off to a new dance, showing off his skills… Jay has arrived. He finishes his drink, nudging you to do the same, then sets the empty cups on a nearby table. His sultry steps stalk toward you and turn you around, pressing himself against your backside. You gasp at the sudden movement but flow perfectly with him. His hands rest on your hips, fingers applying pressure to your hip bones. He grinds into you slowly, and you feel the slightest bulge. You push your ass into him and hear a slight hiss escape his mouth. His one arm snakes around your shoulders while the other hand firmly rests on your belly, holding you in place. He grinds into you again and brings his lips to your ear, “You look irresistible in this outfit.”

Your breath hitches, and your back arches away from him, causing your ass to press against him again. He moans your name softly, “Be careful, or we may have to call it a night.”

Overwhelmed by impulsive thoughts and the cracks in the wall around your heart, you giggle and turn in his arms, “Maybe we should…get water? I’ll be right back.” You walk off the dance floor and head to the bar.

You ask for ice while the bartender makes cups of iced water. You grab a cube and drag it along your clavicle to cool off; the water glistens on your skin. Once the bartender places your drinks in front of you, you turn to find Hoseok in the crowd before you start walking.

When you finally spot the back of his yellow shorts, you smile and begin to turn toward the drinks when you see hands with hot-pink nail polish grasping Hoseok’s neck. You watch the hands play at his hairline and swear you hear his distinctive chuckle over the booming music.

The sinking feeling in your stomach tells you to run away. You look back at the drinks on the bar and reach for your water. When the cup gets to your lips, you realize you’re trembling. The neon lights become dizzying, so you follow your gut and leave.

Walking along the shoreline, shoes in hand, the sea laps at your feet, each impression erased. You stand still, facing the water, once a vibrant blue full of life, now slumbers in a dreamy black robe. The moon casts its light in a pathway, calling you to walk its passage to serenity.

You step away from the water, find dry sand to sit on, and plop down onto it. The sand retreats into your shorts, but you don’t care. Your eyes stay fixated on the moonlit path until self-made salt water trickles down your cheek.

You fell carelessly in love with someone that you’re not sure was even capable of doing the same. “Who was I kidding?” You speak softly to the moon, dig your feet further into the sand, and wrap your arms around your legs.

Back at the club, Hoseok feels dehydrated from all the dancing and leaves the dance floor to find you. After two laps around the place and asking women outside the bathroom if you’re inside, he starts walking out. He thinks back to when he last saw you, going for water, and then he got distracted dancing. Not just dancing– dancing with another woman. “I’m an idiot!” Hoseok nearly sprints out of the club on a mission to find you.

Clouds slowly roll across the sky, obstructing the moon and the moonlit path vanishing. The shots from earlier have worn off quicker than you’d hoped, and it’s getting chilly sitting by the water with little clothes on. You brush the sand off your butt and legs, grab your shoes in one hand, wrap your arms around yourself, then start walking toward the villa.

From a distance, Hoseok ardently calls your name. You turn toward his voice and watch as he races toward you. His body slams into yours, almost knocking you over, but his arms hold you tightly in place.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“The ocean was calling me. And you... You seemed a little preoccupied.” You step out of his hold. “Plus, seeing you dance like that with someone else– after saying– I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“Am I crazy, Hoseok? I know we both feel there’s more to this... more to us.”

“You’re not crazy. I feel it too. I–”

“You’re confusing, you know? You flirt with me all day but then do the same with other women. You’re all over me in bed and on the dance floor but then dance the same way with someone else. It hurts, and I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I’m an idiot, I know. But please, please let me fix this. I–” Hoseok stops talking and stares into your eyes, searching your soul for the words.

“You what? Want to have your cake and eat it too? I don’t want to be your toy.”

“I meant what I said the other night, granted it wasn’t the right timing, but I do want you–”

“Forget it, Hoseok! Let’s just pretend nothing happened and go back–”

“I don’t want that. I want you in more ways than just sex. If anything, this trip has brought us so much closer, and I can’t imagine not waking up next to you, and I don’t want it to end.”

Unsure of what to say or if you should believe him, he was the one who said it didn’t have to mean anything, and now he says this. Your eyes brim with tears as raindrops prickle your skin. Hoseok looks up at the clouds and scoffs at the inconvenience. The rain falls steadily, drenching the two of you and masking your tears.

Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along while running back to the villa.

Neither of you say a word on the way back, yet your minds are not silent. When you enter the door, you gently slide off of Hoseok’s back and straighten your romper down. He turns to face you and runs his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face. He toes off his shoes, keeping his eyes on you, and then dashes for the bathroom coming back with a towel and robe.

“I wasn’t sure which one you may want.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

Hoseok watches you sluggishly dry your hair as much as you can, then puts his hands on yours and takes the towel. He dabs your face, slowly moving down your body, removing as much water as possible from your satiny skin. When he’s finished at your feet, he looks up at you, eyes warm and inviting like a cup of coffee. You swear you can see hearts dancing in the richness of his irises.

He drops the towel, removes his shirt, and stands before you. You can tell he’s nervous before his hand lands on your cheek, spreading his warmth into your skin.

He holds your hands and rests his forehead on yours, “I made stupid decisions, but I promise you, I am stupid for you. I’m scared I ruined everything when in reality, I wanna be with you. More than friends, more than a hookup. I want to be your partner.”

“Seok–”

“I never should have said, ‘it didn’t have to mean anything’, because it would always mean something to me. I regretted the words the minute they came out but didn’t want to dig myself deeper.”

You pull away slightly to better see his face, attempting to find whatever answer your heart seeks.

“Yes, I swear. I have wanted to confess my feelings to you for years–”

“Years!?” You swat at his chest and step back, but he doesn’t let you get far, pulling at your hips.

“I love our friendship and working with you. I was afraid my feelings would ruin what we had, but then it felt like you maybe had those feelings too. Instead of talking to you about it, I tried to hide it in other ways that ended up hurting you and almost lost you. I will never let that happen again.”

Hoseok leans in and presses his plump lips to yours, the air from his nose tickling your upper lip. You fuse your lips to his, and the kiss radiates your surroundings, the dark, damp room now ambient and forgiving. Your body molds to his as sweet tingles of butterflies escape the crumbling wall around your heart. Hoseok lifts you onto him with his lips still pressed to yours, and your arms wrap around his shoulders. He walks gingerly to the bed and lowers you down onto it. His mouth breaks away from yours and moves to your breasts, barely held in by the top of the romper. His tongue outlines the mounds as his hand feverishly runs along your thigh.

He murmurs your name, “Please be my partner…my lover?” He stills his hand and sprinkles kisses up to your neck.

You giggle at the tickle, “Yeah, I’ll be yours, Seok.” You can feel his smile broaden against your skin before he lifts his head and looks at you.

“One more thing…a favor.”

“Hm?”

“Call me Jay when we’re in this kinda mood.”

“Okay?” Your curious tone prompts him for more.

“It turns me on, and I wanna hear it from your pretty mouth,” he coos before swiping your bottom lip with his tongue.

Hoseok stands, eyes roaming your body, and pulls you up to do the same. His hand reaches behind you, untying the strap and letting the top of your romper loosely fall. The material sits on your hips before you push it down, letting it fall to your feet. Hoseok grins at the sight of your pasties, and you hide your face behind your hands.

He tugs gently at your hands and pulls you into him, swaying into a dance. He kisses your forehead and then twists you, placing your back against his chest. Your body melts into him as his hands explore, and teeth nip at your ear. Hoseok begins to bend you forward, pressing your body into the mattress. You put your hands out to soften the fall onto the bed, and they slide above your head. Hoseok admires the sight before he lowers himself onto you, pressing his semi-hard cock into the crack of your ass and sliding a hand down your arm until his hand intertwines with yours.

You lift your body, making him adjust so you can roll onto your back. Pulling his face into yours, you place soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw. He grinds against the thin cotton between your legs and squeezes your breast. You let out a slight noise that ignites his desire, and soon enough, his mouth is ravishing anywhere it can reach, stirring fire within you.

“Mmm, Jay.”

Hoseok stops abruptly at the words that escaped your lips. His forehead collapses against yours, “Say it again.” He peels the pasties off your nipples and pushes your breasts together, licking the crease between them. He sucks the skin into his mouth hard enough to leave his mark, then moves onto a nipple and nibbles lightly before swirling his tongue around it. He sucks it and releases it with a popping sound. You squirm under him as he does the same to the other breast.

“Fuck, Jay.” His body turns to jello– weakened by your whisper– falling limp on you.

“It sounds better than I could’ve ever imagined.” He slides a finger into your underwear and pulls it off you. Kisses linger on your skin from your breasts to your stomach. His warm breath is on your thigh, and your body shivers under the heat.

His mouth sweeps your folds, and he licks a long, unhurried stroke. Your legs shake, and your hands fly into his hair. His tongue flicks at your swelling nub as mewls escape your lips.

“Jay, please.”

He continues flickering his tongue and makes eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow. “Hmm?” The moan sends vibrations up your spine and a whine from your chest. You grab the sides of his head and steady him as you rock your hips against his face. He chuckles, sending your body into a frenzy. You moan his name repeatedly until you climax, dropping your hands, but he continues. You whine and wiggle out of his grasp when it becomes too much.

Hoseok lets you come down a little before repositioning on top of you. You can feel his thickness against your leg, you push his underwear down until he takes it off. He kneels between your legs, and you watch as he pumps his cock a few times, eyes trained on you. He leans down with his hands on either side of you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Blissed out, you can only mumble a resemblance of a response. Hoseok laughs and an iridescent aura overtakes your body, giving you more energy to continue.

“Can you handle a little more of Jay?” he quirks. You bite your bottom lip and nod your head. He eases into you; his cock drags along your walls, filling you deliciously. “Fuuu…so wet and tight.” He lulls, waiting patiently for you to adjust to him, and peppers soft kisses onto your mouth.

His hips pull back slowly and gently push back into you. His tongue pushes in the same movement against yours. He swallows all of the moans slipping from your throat. Lewd sounds are coming from each movement, and he groans, “Do you hear that? I’m gonna cum so fast.”

Hoseok holds himself up off of you and quickens his pace. Your tits bounce with each thrust, along with little sounds leaving you; he’s close.

You hiss and moan his name again as you hit another high. When he feels your walls throbbing against him, he lets go, not stopping until every drop is out of him. He rests on you, staying buried in your warmth.

Hoseok nibbles along your shoulder, then bestows tenderhearted kisses up your neck, landing on your mouth. You drink him in like a refreshing iced tea on a hot summer day.

He mutters your name against your neck, “That was even more amazing than I’d ever imagined...and trust me that's been a lot.” His smile against your skin radiates happiness into your bones, a feeling overwhelmingly pleasant.

“Mmhmm. I think India is my new favorite place. It's beautiful here, even the cold part, and the memories are enough for a lifetime," you pause for a moment, your fingers combing through his fluffy hair, "and I really like this too."

Hoseok suppresses a laugh, letting out a puff of air, “Me too, but it's only my favorite because I'm with you.” He kisses your shoulder and finds one of your hands to wrap his fingers around yours.

The two of you lay there, one hand interlocked and the other tracing each other’s bodies, gentle kisses on exposed skin, letting this new experience seep into your core memories. Like traveling to a new place for the first time and becoming deeply smitten with a new, beautiful place.

You look at Hoseok’s face, his eyes closed and soft features aglow, even in the dark. His smile is your favorite sight and his laugh is your favorite sound. He is easily your favorite adventure.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Namaste Collab Masterlist

Glossary:

Ladoos- traditional Indian dessert is made with different types of flour that are mixed with sugar and shortening, then shaped into balls.

Sweet boondi- fried gram flour balls soaked in flavored sugar syrup.

Kaju katli- a cookie-like Indian sweet made from a dough consisting largely of ground cashew nuts; the name translates as "cashew slice."

Shikara- a wooden, flat-bottom boat

Ghunghat- head covering or headscarf

Vindaloo- Indian curry dish, which is originally from Goa, based on the Portuguese dish

Fish thali- complete meal consisting of Rice, fish curry, fried fish, and veggies

Feni- a liquor indigenous to the state of Goa, India. The two most popular types are cashew and coconut.

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