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lo1k-diamonds · 9 days ago

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Ooooo, what do we have here? 👀

I went into this full-on expecting my heart to be absolutely shattered, but this is a super feel-good story. Yes, it sucks when we have unrequited feelings, and yes, Hoseok did spur her on, even if unintentionally!! At least, it is never said that he clarified with her that he is touchy, asked if she was okay with it, told her in advance that he's like that with everyone, checked on her multiple times over their friendship, etc. I feel like if they're best friends, he should have paid attention to these details and checked in on her, especially if all your friends keep expecting that you'll announce that you're together or have become involved at one point or another. This means that two people just let things happen, and naturally, feelings of wonder and attachment will develop. As it turns out, they did, and not just for one of them... 👀

That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.

Ouch, so vivid and relatable, gosh. Hate it when this happens 👀

I didn't expect Yoongi to go for it, but I'm happy he did. I like how both characters take their time to get to know each other and cautiously and respectfully build something together. They deserve to be happy 💜

I also loved the ending. For someone so close to Yoongi and OC, Hoseok is not paying attention. Rather, he is blinded to how things are changing and why. I like the touch at the end, though I'm happy the couple figured themselves out before Hoseok got shaken. We can never know exactly how he feels, and he should let them be happy, whatever it is.

My question is, did Jimin and Taehyung know about Yoongi's feelings? 👀🤭

Reciprocity

Summary- Your unrequited crush on Hoseok seems to have played itself out as you overhear a conversation between him and Yoongi. But Yoongi has a secret of his own to tell you.

Word Count- 11372

Pairing- Yoongi x F!Reader (x Hoseok in a way?)

Trope- Friends to lovers au, smut/angst

Warnings- Unrequited love, a bit of a love triangle? Adult language, vulgarity, unprotected sex, lots of smutty things, minors DNI 18+++

Tags- @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- Well this started out as a Hoseok fic....but Yoongi kind of took over? This is my first attempt at a BTS fic so please be kind. Thank you to @kwanisms for the gorgeous header and to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading all of this process and encouraging me...this wouldn't have been written without you!!

“What do you mean?” You hear the familiar sound of Hoseok’s voice from the other room as you walk in.

Smiling, you open your mouth to announce yourself, but the next words have you clamping it shut.

“She’s just my friend, I don’t see her that way.”

Curious, you set the bag of food down on the coffee table in the living room, wondering who he’s talking about.

“Liar, I see how you two are together. You’ve been friends for ages, and I can tell-”

“I’m not lying. Seriously, man-maybe you’re projecting. She’s just my friend. As if I could ever see her as a woman.”

Hoseok’s laugh at that last line has your heart dropping two stories below the apartment, the tingle of hurt burning the back of your throat.

“Hobi-” You can hear the tightness of Yoongi’s voice as you try to calm the tsunami in your stomach.

“Why are you so intent on matchmaking us? It’s not like you, dude. Stop meddling, it’s weird.”

“As long as you say so, man. I just figured I’d check before-”

Their voices halt the moment you begin to make noises, unwilling to hear your two friends talk about you like that.

You already felt invasive enough having listened in on that little bit.

Fighting down the tears pricking the back of your eyes, you manage to call out to them.

“I’m back with food!”

You’re certain your voice is normal as you make your way into the kitchen, settling the bag down on the counter to pull out containers for everyone.

“Come eat while it’s warm…” you manage, ignoring the two men as they wander out from Hoseok’s bedroom.

“That was quick…” Yoongi mutters, and you don’t catch the glare he throws at Hoseok.

Shrugging, the latter man comes over to give you a big smile.

“Want to eat in here or the living room?” Hoseok asks, nudging your shoulder playfully as you finish unpacking the food.

Trying to school your features, you just shrug, glancing over at Yoongi.

He’s just looking between you, eyes narrowed before he sighs and finally shrugs back at you.

“Whatever works, I’m just hungry.” Yoongi grabs a carton of noodles to sniff it, glancing around at the little buffet you’d brought.

“Thanks for the food.” he says, shooting Hoseok another look as he hovers beside you, bumping into you as he picks through the array.

After you all eat your fill and clean up the kitchen, you find yourself on the couch beside Hoseok as he rambles on about his day.

Eyeing him, you can’t help but think about what he’d said earlier.

“As if I could ever see her as a woman.”

As long as you’ve been friends with the man, he’s always been playful and flirtatious with you.

While that was all fine with you, there were times that you could swear there was something more.

That he may have something beyond just your close friendship.

That he may feel the same way that you do for him.

The crush you’d had on him existed long before you’d called him your best friend.

Long nights talking about everything and anything, lingering on the phone even after one or the other passed out.

How he’d show up after he’d heard you had a bad day, bringing you your favorite coffee or treat.

How willing he’s always been to make you smile.

Yes, that’s what friends are for.

They care for you in your bad times, as well as the good.

You’ve told yourself this so often that you’d convinced yourself at this point.

You’d had to, the silly crush you had on him had slowly become true feelings.

Feelings you’d been struggling to suppress because your friendship had always meant more to you.

Yet, he was always cuddling with you, touching you, brushing back your hair….

The flirtatious nature of how you were together had of course been noticed by all of your friend group as well.

Yoongi asking Hoseok about it was nothing new either, so that’s not what bothered you.

Even as much as you’d told yourself that you were only friends, hearing him say that he couldn’t even see you as a woman had your heart dying in your chest.

It shouldn’t hurt, you’ve told yourself that very thing night after night after he’d done something to get your pulse racing, your emotions stirring in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you jump as you feel Hoseok’s breath on your ear.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks and you turn to look at him, swallowing heavily.

There it was-that cheerful smile.

The one that always had you wondering how you would ever survive being around him.

“Nothing.” You mumble, turning to glance at Yoongi, pulling back to put some distance between you.

“How’s your work going?” you ask, pretending not to notice how Yoongi shoots yet another look at Hoseok.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the door and you eagerly jump up to get it.

You’re not sure if you can handle Hoseok’s touchiness tonight.

Not while you were still reeling from his painful words.

“Hey, are you ignoring me? You’d better be free that night, what would I do without my bestie beside me?”

You just sigh at the text, chewing your lip as you ponder how to deal with him.

Your writing had been taking a toll ever since your mood had plummeted.

After that evening, you’d recovered some from the hurt.

You’d known that you two were only friends, but apparently there was a part of you that had clung onto a small bit of hope that he’d secretly felt something more for you.

At least you had your answer to that now, you keep telling yourself.

Don’t act weird, you think, shaking your head at how ridiculous and emotional you were over something you knew already.

Flirtations or not, he’d never attempted to do anything beyond just that.

Don’t be a greedy bitch, and don’t whine about stupid shit, you think to yourself.

“Fine, fine, but you’re buying the drinks.” You send him, smirking.

“DEAL!” he sends back with his typical emojis, making you laugh despite the ache.

Checking the rest of your messages, you manage to see a missed text from Yoongi.

“Huh, weird…” you mutter, opening it.

“Hey, so…are you free sometime this week for coffee or lunch?”

You frown at the text, tilting your head in wonder.

Curious, as Yoongi wasn’t one to reach out suddenly for no reason, you just message back:

“Sure, I can meet whenever you’re free. Is everything okay?”

It’s a bit before you get a response, which was typical for the man, as he was always doing something in his studio.

“Yeah…just wanted to talk to you about something personal.”

His response has your curiosity peaking, and you immediately respond back to him.

“Well, let me know when you have the time and I’ll come meet you wherever!”

Interesting, you think.

Yoongi and you had been friends for as long as you and Hoseok, but you’d never developed the same kind of closeness.

Mostly because of how different they are, of course.

Yoongi is reserved, a bit more quiet and serious.

He rarely spends a lot of alone time with you, so something must be up if he’s asking for a one on one.

Hoseok is cheerful and upbeat, talkative and he never shies away from physical touch with you.

Frowning, you realize that’s part of what got you into this mess in the first place.

It’s not his fault that I have inappropriate feelings for him, you chastise yourself.

You take a moment longer to read the next text from Yoongi, responding that he will text you when he has time.

Setting down your phone, you turn to your laptop to see if you can break through the writer’s block today.

You make your way inside the quiet little coffee shop, glancing around to see if Yoongi was inside yet.

None of the tables were taken, and there was a lone barista behind the bar, cleaning.

I must be early, you think, checking the time.

Figuring you’ll get drinks while you wait for him, you make your way to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get started for you?” The man asks, and you place your order, deciding to get something for Yoongi as well.

By the time the young man is setting your two drinks on the counter, you hear the chime over the door ring.

“Hey, sorry, I got held up at the last minute. Freaking Taehyung and Jungkook and their normal antics.” He grimaces.

You can’t help but grin, knowing all too well how hard it was to escape the little menaces.

“No problem, here I got you a drink already.” You hold it out to him, his eyes lighting up as he takes it.

“Thank you…my intention was to buy your drink, but you beat me to it.” He smiles, gesturing to the open tables.

Choosing a two seater by the window, you slip into the chair as he does the same across from you.

“So, how is work going? Super busy?” You start as he sets his coffee on the table.

He sighs, running a hand over his face as he glances out the window, nodding.

“Always, and those two little-” he begins, then shakes his head.

“Anyhow, it’s nice to get away. How is your writing going?” He inquires, leaning forward as he turns to face you fully.

Letting out your own sigh, you look down to toy with the lid of your cup.

“Eh…I’ve had better weeks of writing. Lately….” you let the words drift off, just giving a small shrug to fill the void.

You notice his frown as he studies you, concern in his eyes as he tilts his head.

“Lately? Did something happen? What’s going on?” He asks, his sudden worry apparent.

Waving him off, you take another sip of your drink.

“Oh…just…things. Life.” You try to smile, “Just stupid thoughts and trying to work through something. But it’s nothing important.”

You try to look reassuring but the concern stays on his face.

“What about you? You said you had something personal to talk about?” Changing the subject was the best bet, you think.

“Mmmm….” he hums, his voice deep and low as he seems to ponder how to start.

“I…well…” he chews his lip, glancing down, then back up at you.

“We’ve been friends for a while, right?” He asks, taking you off guard.

You merely nod, thinking for a moment before you respond, “Eight years, yeah.”

He nods once at your answer, studying you before glancing away again.

“You haven’t…dated anyone since we’ve all been friends.” He says and you furrow your brow at him.

“I mean…no…I actually haven’t.” You mumble, frowning, worried about where this is going.

“How come?” he asks bluntly.

You can only blink at him with a blank expression.

“Not to be rude but…I thought you wanted to talk about something personal?” You deflect, wondering why he’s suddenly so curious about your dating life.

His cheeks flush pink and he looks down at his cup as he idly spins it on the table.

Clearing his throat, he manages to say, “Well…yes, this is personal…”

Glancing around the little shop, you try to think of how to word it.

It’s not like you can blurt out, “Because I’m in love with Hobi.” Because…just no.

“It’s…complicated, I suppose.” you finally respond, tapping your foot against the table leg.

His eyes meet yours, flicking back and forth as they seem to want to see beyond your evasive answer.

“I have you guys, why do I need to date? I guess the right person just hasn’t presented themselves.”

He hums, leaning back to watch you as you speak.

“You mean you have Hoseok?” He asks simply, causing you to choke on the sip you were taking.

Reaching for a napkin to clean up the coffee that shot out of your nose, you dab at your face as he watches you with a serious look.

“I don’t-” you start but he puts up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t notice how you two are together, everyone has asked at some point if you two are a couple.” He says softly, his words obviously not intending to hurt but damn, do they.

You just take a moment to tamp down on the surge of pain at the reality of things versus what everyone “thinks”.

“Yeah well…he has a way of making people think that, doesn’t he?” The bitterness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, who leans forward once more.

“Is this why you asked me to come out, Yoongi? To talk about my personal life?” You say a bit more harshly than you intended, wiping up the little droplets of coffee off the table to distract yourself.

“Hey-not…like that. I’m not trying to…” he waves his hands around, flustered at your reaction.

“Look, I heard you two talking the other night, alright? I’m very well aware of how he sees me, so it matters little what I think about anything, doesn’t it?” You tell him, finally looking up at him.

His frown tugs down even more now as he reaches out to place his hand over yours.

Sighing, he shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that…I’m sorry-”

Cutting him off, you blurt out, “He doesn’t even see me as a woman, so-”

“Well he’s fucking stupid then.” Yoongi counters, almost growling the words as he spits them out.

You can’t even think of what to say, shocked at the tone of his voice, the anger in his dark eyes as he squeezes your hand in his.

“I swear, I wanted to slap the smile off his face the other day when he said that to me,” he continues.

“How could anyone not see you as a woman? It’s fucking rude to say something so disrespectful, even if he thought you couldn’t hear him. I don’t care if we’re friends or more.”

You swallow the pain at the memory, but the fact that Yoongi is getting so defensive for your sake has a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach.

You manage to blink away the tears threatening to slip from your eye as you listen to his tirade.

“He can think whatever he wants…” You mutter, glancing out the window to watch the people walk by, life going on outside of this painful conversation.

“Well, he doesn’t need to be so blunt about shit like that. He’s the one always clinging to you like you belong to him-” Yoongi almost snarls out, but he stops, sighing as he blinks down at his drink.

“Well, for the record, I don’t belong to anyone.” You tell him, intrigued and curious about his reaction to everything.

You swear he almost sounds-

“I sound jealous, don’t I?” He says, a humorless laugh accompanying the words.

“You sound like you just didn’t like what he said, I wouldn’t think you were jealous, Yoongi.” You tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.

He pauses as he looks down at your hand beneath his own, rubbing his fingers along yours.

“What if I were to say I was jealous?” He asks, continuing to look down before he raises his gaze to meet yours.

It seems as if time stops in the tiny cafe as his words echo through your head.

Jealous?

Yoongi?

“Yoongi, I’m not in the mood for jokes today.” You sigh out.

He purses his lips, his jaw working as he holds your gaze.

“I like you.”

Your heart stutters, his sudden confession taking you completely by surprise.

There wasn’t a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Not an ounce of teasing in his tone.

He slips his hand off yours, leaning back as if he expects an outburst, but he never takes his eyes from yours.

Your mind is reeling at the idea that he’s being deadly serious.

Min Yoongi just confessed to you.

Yoongi…the serious, stoic friend you’d had for years.

When you don’t immediately respond, he just wipes a hand over his face.

“I wasn’t trying to be intrusive when I asked him about how he felt about you the other day.” He admits, finally breaking eye contact to look out the window, tching with his tongue as he considers his next words.

“Honestly, for years, everyone has had the idea that the two of you had some secret relationship going on. That you just were being completely quiet about it, though to us it seemed very obvious.”

You glance down at the hand he was just holding, feeling as if you’re floating in some weird alternate universe.

Hearing how you and Hoseok had been viewed, mixed with the fact that Yoongi has had feelings for you….

You try your best not to zone out, hanging on his words as he continues.

“Of course, if that was the case, I’d be happy for the two of you. You’re my friend, first and foremost. Despite how I feel about you.”

The low timbre of his voice lulls the pain of what he’s talking about a bit.

You’d always loved his voice, especially when it dropped low and deep like this.

Eyeing him as he watches the people walk by, you tilt your head to look at him in this new light as he talks.

It wasn’t a secret that you found all of your friends extremely attractive, every single one.

Sometimes it felt almost unreasonable how handsome they all were, and you’d told them as much on many occasions.

You certainly weren’t afraid to voice that opinion, it was just a fact at this point.

It had just been so easy to look beyond the physical with all of them and Hoseok had definitely always been right up close, demanding all of your attention.

Never once past getting close with all the guys did you consider that any could have feelings for you, with the exception of Hobi of course.

“You…like me?” You finally respond, your entire worldview turning on it’s head.

He winces at your words, turning back to meet your gaze.

Pursing his lips, he merely nods.

“I’m sorry if it’s abrupt, and if it upsets you at all.” he says softly, reaching out to grab his cup to drink from.

“So the conversation you had with Hoseok….” you let the question linger as he sets his cup back down.

He clucks his tongue, nodding gently as he finishes the thought.

“I figured if there was something between you two, if there was no hope…” he shrugs, chewing his lip as he looks down.

His words feel so very close to how you’ve been feeling lately about Hoseok, hitting you harder than you expect.

“Then you’d know…then you could let go.” You say without thinking, blinking at having uttered the words out loud.

His dark gaze meets yours, understanding passing between the two of you as he nods.

“I was shocked, honestly. When he said nothing had ever happened between you. But when he said-” he stops, his jaw clenching.

You only manage an anemic smile as he continues, shrugging off the almost familiar pain.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” he tells you, “Confessing…admitting to you how I feel.”

You can’t help but feel a smile creep across your face as his cheeks tinge with a blush, unable to feel anything but excitement at his bravery.

“Yoongi-” You start, but he stops you before you can say more.

“Look…I asked him because I wanted to know how he felt about you. If there was something there that I shouldn’t touch. On his side.”

You just nod, understanding his logic with that.

“I want you to know that…telling you this, I don’t expect anything to come of it. I know we’ve been friends a very long time and…I doubt you’ve ever seen me in that way.”

Before you can respond, he only gives you a look and you let him continue speaking before saying anything.

He fiddles with his now empty cup, seeming to be turning over how he’s going to proceed.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. I thought eventually that they’d fade away and I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” he shrugs a shoulder as he says this.

His words still stun you, even though he’s already admitted to liking you.

“Now I know how he feels about you, but I also want to ask you the same thing. If it’s not too intrusive, of course.” he says, watching you closely.

You swallow the immediate urge to deflect and deny your true emotions for Hobi.

But Yoongi was being completely honest with you, not to mention the courage it was taking to confess like this.

It felt dishonorable to lie at this point.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you can only let out a shaky sigh as you build up the courage to admit your true feelings out loud.

“I …. I have had emotions for Hoseok for a long time.” You finally say, watching him as closely as he’s watching you now.

He blanches a bit, but he seems unsurprised as he nods.

“I had the feeling that was the case.” he mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he glances out the window, his tongue in his cheek.

“It’s not like I expected anything, but…” you can only spread your hands out, as if to say, it is what it is.

“So his words the other day must have hurt.” He says, as a statement rather than a question.

Feeling the slight ache at the memory, you can only nod as you shrug a shoulder.

“It did, but it’s not as if I expected anything else. He’s never expressed any interest in me.”

Yoongi’s head snaps around to look at you, his eyes narrowing even more.

“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s obvious that he’s encouraged your feelings. Even if it’s been unintentional. I can’t tell you how much that pisses me off, now that I know how you feel.”

His words seem to snap something inside of you, and suddenly he’s sitting forward as he reaches out to you, his eyes widening.

“Hey…shit I’m so fucking sorry-”

It takes you a moment to realize that tears are streaming down your face, and you’ve been holding your breath.

He is out of his chair in a heartbeat, suddenly kneeling beside you, using a napkin to gently dab at your cheeks.

You let out a shaky breath, intending to tell him it’s alright, that you’re fine but the moment you open your mouth, only a sob escapes.

“Damn it, I came here to admit my own feelings and here I am, hurting you.” His voice is laced with anger, directed at himself.

Shaking your head, you just cover your mouth, trying to not draw the concern of the poor barista as you try to compose yourself.

“No-” you choke out, looking down at the deep, concerned eyes of Yoongi.

“Can I…?” He gestures awkwardly with his arms, and you immediately nod, slipping into his hug.

“Shhh, hey, it’s alright. I’m so sorry I’m digging up painful things for you, I never intended to upset you.”

You cling to him, gripping the back of his leather jacket as you try your best to collect yourself.

He rubs a hand down your spine as he continues to soothe you with small, simple words, giving you time to calm down.

“You-didn’t.” you finally manage, pulling back as you wipe at your face.

You take in his pain filled eyes, and it’s an odd feeling to be filled with wonder at his sympathy and care all while wanting to bawl your eyes out over Hoseok at the same time.

“I-I’m just confused, and frustrated. At myself, mostly.” You say, trying to laugh.

“At yourself?” He asks, still kneeling before you, holding you at arms length as he reaches out to wipe away an errant tear.

You just nod, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah, I know he and I are only friends, so it’s stupid to think of anything else between us.”

His eyes darken as he grimaces at your words, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, don’t do that. Your emotions are valid, even if you don’t want to have them. It’s not something we have much control over, believe me.” He smiles but you can tell he’s empathizing more than he’s letting on.

This man had just confessed to you and here he was, comforting you over another man.

Your head spins from the day's events, feeling overwhelmed from it all.

“Yoongi…” you start and he hums in askance.

Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to cup his cheek, almost laughing at the shocked and panicked look that washes over his face.

“Things have been…confusing.” you tell him, and he can only nod, but he leans into your hand as you continue.

“I’ve known for a long time that Hoseok doesn’t have feelings for me. That…it’s in my head.” You admit, albeit sadly.

His lips thin into a line, but you continue before he can say anything.

“I’m still processing this…” you gesture with your free hand. “It’s the last thing I expected…especially from you.”

He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head at your admission.

“Especially from me?” He asks softly.

You just smirk and nod, “Yes, especially from you. You’ve never given me the impression that you’ve…been interested.”

He just grins, and you still with shock over just how ridiculously sheepish and handsome he looks kneeling before you.

Maybe...there was something here.

Something you never considered because you’ve been blinded by Hoseok standing in the way.

Before you can jump on that train of thought, you manage to focus on what you were trying to say.

“Would you be willing to give me some time?” You ask him quietly.

His eyes widen and you can see him trying to fight back a smile at your words.

“You…you’re not outright rejecting me?” He asks in surprise.

Smiling at his shock, you merely shake your head.

“No, I’m not. But...knowing I have feelings for someone else has to have you lose some interest.” You tell him, not even posing it as a question.

You know it’s not something most people would tolerate.

“Hey…I’ve had a feeling that you two had a thing at some point. It didn’t make me any less interested in you. And…I’ll be honest…” His eyes graze over you slowly, causing your face to flush at the deepening of his voice.

But it’s nothing compared to how his next words turn your world upside down.

“I’ve always seen you as a woman. And not just any woman…an intelligent, strong and beautiful woman.”

His fingers brush your cheek, collecting the tear that leaks down your face as he gives you his signature lopsided smile.

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

Time seems to fly by, yet it feels as if you’re trudging along in a slow fog all at once.

Since your coffee meeting with Yoongi, your emotions have been all over the place.

The one good thing about being in this state is that your writing block is nonexistent.

After getting home from your talk, you’d naturally gone to your laptop and opened it, your thoughts racing like mad.

On a whim, you just started writing.

Pouring your heart out into the void of white on your screen, tears blurring your eyes as you let your imagination work through some of the confusion and stress that had been building.

Knowing this would never see the light of day, you just ran with it; allowing your frustrations out on your fictional characters as day bled into night, then into day again.

Picking up your mug, you pause as you realize that it’s empty.

Glancing around, you blink at the morning sun peeking through the blinds, suddenly feeling a yawn claw its way out as you stretch and crack your neck.

6:44am, the clock seems to judge you with its ticking second hand.

Well…you’ve definitely gotten quite a lot of work done, even if it’s never going to become anything.

Standing to stretch out your back, you glance around at your empty apartment.

The tension headache you’d developed over the last week still lingered, but you felt a bit lighter now that you’ve worked through the swirl of emotions that had been threatening to drown you.

Padding into the kitchen, you turn on your electric kettle and lean against the counter to wait, thinking back on the way you’d left things with Yoongi.

His words still didn’t seem real, and you can’t help but think about him on his knees before you.

His long dark hair hanging in his eyes, one side tucked behind his ear.

Eyes narrowed, biting his lip as he professed his concern for you.

It would be a bold faced lie to say you’d never looked at him as a woman does a man.

You and your girlfriends had often had some seriously depraved conversations about the men in your friends group, but you felt that was only natural.

You hung out with a group of handsome men, who wouldn’t give them the once over and imagine?

When you’d all first started hanging out, it was impossible to not find them all attractive.

Have you ever even considered Yoongi?

For certain you’d appreciated his looks, his deep voice, his laid back demeanor.

But from the beginning, it was always Hoseok’s sunny smile taking up your entire vision.

Gorgeous, cheerful, energetic-you had both been drawn to each other in a way you couldn’t explain.

It was easy to get sucked into his energy, to let yourself get swept away.

Before long, you and Hoseok were best friends, sharing everything with one another.

All of your friends were convinced that one day you’d just announce that you were together.

Yet here you were, eight years later, hearing that he didn’t even see you as a woman.

That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.

Then Yoongi out of the blue drops that bomb on you.

As much as you know you have to work through these emotions for Hoseok, you can’t help but think about how there’s really nothing to get over.

You never had anything together.

Sure, he flirted and teased.

Yeah, he almost always had to touch you, be next to you.

But…there was nothing more.

Not one kiss.

Not even an “almost anything”.

In the end, it seems like it was just his way of being your best friend and you resent that you feel like he’s hurt you in some way.

He hadn’t done anything wrong and there wasn’t even anything to be angry at.

Sighing, you pour some hot water over a teabag, forcing your thoughts away from Hoseok for the moment.

Your last conversation with Yoongi replays in your mind as you steep your tea, a small warmth blooming in your stomach at the memory.

Not much had been said that hadn’t been talked about over coffee; he’d walked you home as you both awkwardly discussed going forward.

“I hope you don’t feel any pressure to give me an answer-” He’d said as you approached your building.

His hands were in his pockets, dark strands dangling as he kicked at the pavement outside of your building.

It was a rare sight to see Min Yoongi being shy and nervous, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him.

Stepping forward, you’d drawn his gaze, his eyebrows raising as you cut him off.

“Yoongi, do you want to come over sometime this week and watch a movie?”

Your words had shut him up for a solid thirty seconds as he blinked at your invitation.

“Eh?” He finally managed, then he was tilting his head in confusion. “I thought you needed time?”

“Time to think about things, yes. But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. Unless you’d rather not-”

“No-I mean, yes, sure, I’d love to come watch a movie.”

Even now, you can’t help but smile at the delight in his dark eyes before he looked away, even as he clucked his tongue and cleared his throat.

Shuffling back to your cozy chair, you check your phone and notice a bunch of missed texts.

Of course, you think, opening the familiar name on the screen.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hey, are you sleeping?”

“I bet you’re writing and you have no idea what time it is! GO TO SLEEP!”

Shaking your head and smiling, you just ignore Hoseok’s texts for now, scrolling through the others just checking in and saying hello.

Reluctantly, you make your way to your room, slightly annoyed that Hoseok knew you well enough to call it.

“Jerk.” You mutter, curling up with your blankets and drifting off.

“I swear, you guys just want something to gossip about.” Hoseok scolded the nosy men in the room.

“Don’t lump me in with them.” Namjoon says, turning his back to ignore the chatty trio.

“Really, though, what would happen if she got a boyfriend?” Jimin was asking, glancing at Taehyung as if to ask him for backup.

Hoseok just leans back, sighing as he rests his hands behind him.

“Then I would congratulate her and wish her well.” He shoots back without hesitation, shaking his head.

He ignores the looks the two share, nodding at Yoongi as he makes his way into the practice room.

“Really? Just like that?” Taehyung asks, disbelief in his voice.

“Just like that.” Hoseok responds, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re all overly concerned with my personal life right now.”

Yoongi stays silent, merely observing as they continue their conversation.

“So, if-” Taehyung begins but Hoseok groans in annoyance, giving him a dark look that stops his question.

“If you’re not going to focus on practice-” He growls, causing the two to scramble and make excuses about things they need to do.

“What is it with these questions lately?” Hoseok mumbles, shaking his head as he stands to resume his choreography.

Yoongi just grunts in response as he turns to focus on his own work.

Answering the door, you smile as you’re greeted with Yoongi’s familiar smiling face.

Opening the door wider to allow him in, you can’t help but admire how handsome and soft he looks.

He’s wearing a loose grey sweater and jeans, and his long dark hair is pulled up into a half ponytail.

Honestly, he looks...really sexy.

“I brought snacks.” He says, holding up the bag as he walks in and takes off his shoes.

“Great!” You respond, taking the bag to the kitchen to put into little bowls so you can enjoy them during your show.

It’s been almost a month now that he’s been coming over for a movie night, making this number five.

They weren’t dates, necessarily.

Nothing had happened.

You’ve talked, laughed, watched movies, dramas, music videos.

Chatted about work, food, life in general.

Everything but touched on the topic that started all of this.

The respect he has had for you has been amazing, not once asking about your feelings towards anything, never inquiring about Hoseok or being intrusive in any way.

And he almost always sat with something between the two of you on the large couch, you think, watching him make his way to his normal spot.

Much had changed in a month, yet it also felt as if you were in this kind of limbo with Yoongi.

Of course, you were well aware that you were the one who asked for time.

Hoseok had started to notice the little things as well.

Once upon a time, you’d have been on the phone with him at least a few times a week, ranting about your most recent writing project, or listening to him talk about dance practice and everything in between.

Those calls had slowly dwindled as you found yourself focusing more on yourself, on your work, on learning how to exist without him being your primary focus.

On the other hand, you had been exchanging alot more conversation with Yoongi over this time.

You’d been friends with him just as long as you have been with Hoseok and the others, yet you were learning things about him you never knew.

As you set the dishes down on the coffee table, you glance at where the pillow sits beside Yoongi, creating a makeshift barrier between the two of you.

It wasn’t a sudden thought to remove it and toss it, to slide in beside him and see what it felt like for Yoongi to be the one to pull you into his side, to lay his head on yours as you curled into him.

No, it wasn’t sudden at all, it has been building up over these little drama dates you’ve been having with him.

Settling on the couch beside the pillow, you chew your lip, considering how to even go about wanting to close the distance with him.

Perhaps it was still too early, you think, returning his smile as he looks over at you, nodding along to his suggestions for your selection of the night.

You both settle on a drama that has been airing, finding yourself involved and before long, two hours have passed.

“Did you want to sleep or-?” He asks, turning to you as he holds the remote in his hand.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch another.” You say softly, admiring him as he gives you a cute little smile as he turns to queue up the next episode.

“Alright, bathroom break, I’ll be right back.” He says, wandering off down your hallway.

“Need anything while I’m up?” you ask, going to get two more water bottles.

“I’m good!” He calls as you go to sit back down.

You hesitate a moment before you grasp the irritating pillow and toss it over to the chair beside you.

“There.” you mumble, proud of yourself before you’re filled with a sudden anxiousness as he comes to join you again.

“Oh…” he says, eyeing the now empty space between you, glancing at you in askance as he sits down.

“It was in the way.” You say, cheeks heating as he nods slowly, and you catch the cute little eye twitch as he settles into the couch.

“Ready?” He asks, side eyeing you as you adjust so you’re a bit closer to him.

“Yep.” You nod, trying to act nonchalant.

It’s slow, but as you make your way through the next hour-long episode, you find yourself bumping his knee with yours when you exclaim about what is going on.

Leaning in as you laugh, turning to see if his reaction matches your own.

Little by little the distance closes before your shoulder is brushing his, his deep throaty laughter evoking little tummy trembles.

And before you know it, you’re more focused on his facial expressions, his little grunts of surprise, the way his lips turn down as he finds something displeasing on the screen.

Swallowing heavily, you reach out to brush an errant strand of hair back, causing him to freeze in place.

“Oh…sorry…you just…I-”

“It’s fine.” He says, his eyes no longer taking in the show as his gaze sweeps over you.

Your breath hitches a bit as you watch his adam’s apple bob, swallowing as he licks his lips and clears his throat.

Brushing the strand back, you catch his dark gaze as it lingers on your lips, causing your stomach to flip.

He winces as he meets your eyes, clucking his tongue in that adorable way he does.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He asks, his voice a bit deeper and softer than normal and you can only nod as your fingers linger on the soft strands of his hair.

Somehow you’ve moved directly beside him, and you find yourself wondering what the exact distance is between his mouth and yours.

He clears his throat once more as he watches your gaze drop to his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.

“I am.” You respond softly, your eyes just taking in the entirety of his face this close, unable to resist rubbing the silken strands between your fingertips.

“Are you?” You ask after a long pause, the voices on the television fading into the background as you hear your heart thump in your chest.

How long had it been since you’d kissed someone? you wonder.

Since someone touched you in ways that were anything but friendly?

Feeling almost starved, you blush as you watch your hand tremble as you tuck his hair, your fingertips skimming the shell of his ear.

Suddenly, his hand is around your wrist, gently halting your motion as he studies your eyes.

“I don’t mean to sound…rude but…” He halts as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his lashes fluttering as he appears to calm himself.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing right now?” He asks huskily, the timbre of his voice seeming to tickle something so deep within you that the very awareness of it is enough to cause you to squirm.

You hesitate to answer him, but not because you’re unsure of your response.

No, you need him to know that you’re very much aware.

Holding his gaze, your teeth capture your bottom lip as you nod slowly, intentionally.

“Good.” He grates out.

Within the next breath, the distance is bridged and his lips are capturing yours, the fingers around your wrist loosening as they trail down your forearm.

You don’t even have time to feel ashamed of the needy moan that gets lost in the depths of his mouth, because he’s too busy slipping his fingers up into your hair, kneading your scalp as his lips quiver against yours.

The show is forgotten as you both cling to one another, his free arm slipping around you to tug you closer.

Your fingers finally delve into the long, satin strands of hair that have been tempting you for weeks.

It’s a shock and yet not surprising at all when your hand slips over his back, across his shoulders and you feel the taut muscles bunching as he slowly pulls you ever closer to him.

You’re not even sure which noises are his and which are yours as you allow, no, you encourage him to tug you halfway onto his lap.

Before you know it, you’re looking down at him, your fingers skimming his cheek as your lips part and meet, again and again with hot breathy sighs and groans.

“Yoongi-” You breathe out, and you can’t help but flush with shame at the desperation in your wavering voice.

He freezes suddenly at the sound of his name, unsure as he pulls back to check on you.

The whine that escapes you as he withdraws causes his eyes to widen with concern, misunderstanding the meaning behind the embarrassing noise.

“Too much-?”

Unable to stop yourself, you straddle him properly, one thigh on either side of his, crushing your mouth to his as you cut off his sentence.

“No-” you manage as his hands immediately grasp your hips, a soft groan escaping him as you cup his face.

It’s as if every touch of his is burning a trail along your body as his palms skim up your sides, sliding around your back, then down to cup your ass.

Your head is swimming with the sensation overload as you roll your hips against him, finally realizing how very hard he is.

Heat pools in your abdomen as his fingers knead your plush ass, his tongue dancing delicately over yours between his breathy groans.

Your hand slips between you, a sudden need causing you to tug at the button of his jeans.

Belatedly, you register how his body freezes, his hands gripping you to still you as he slows the kiss.

Drawing back, you swallow harshly, doing your best to not cry out at the loss of his lips on yours.

His dark, anxious eyes study you as he brings a hand up to trace your cheek, and it takes you a moment to realize that those gorgeous lips are moving, that he’s speaking to you.

“Hey…woah…let’s slow down for a moment…”

His voice sounds almost pained, gravelly and hoarse as he clears his throat.

“Yoongi?” You ask softly, concerned that you may have pushed him a bit too far, that maybe he doesn't want this.

He clears his throat again, eyes darting down to your lips before he looks away.

Yet he keeps you seated right there in his lap as he finally manages to get his words out.

“Let’s talk before…” His thumb caresses your cheek gently and you can feel his body shudder under yours as you blink at him.

Nodding, you take a deep breath, pushing down the desperation and need within you in order to clear your mind.

“As much as I want you…want this…we should have a conversation.” He continues, finally meeting your eyes once more, “I don’t want to rush into anything either of us will regret.”

You process his words slowly, chest heaving as you do your best to calm yourself.

The emotions that had gradually been building for him over this past month seem to evolve at his care for you, making your next words hold even more weight.

You slip your fingers into his hair, brushing it back as you admire the man you’d come to see as much more than a friend.

“Yoongi…I like you, too.” You manage, your voice hoarse with the need you’ve pushed back for the moment.

His eyebrows twitch upwards, lips parting with the tiniest little gasp as you smile softly at him.

“I want you…I want this. I want…more.”

His eyelashes flutter at your words, eyes closing slowly as if he’s savoring the meaning behind them, the gravity of them.

“Are you sure? I don’t want something casual. We both deserve more than that.” He says before opening those deep chocolate eyes to observe you, gauging your reaction closely.

Without hesitation, you nod, running your thumb over his beautiful lashes.

“I wouldn’t do that to you or myself, Yoongi. I don’t want a pillow between us anymore.” You whisper, leaning down to brush your lips over his. “I wouldn’t have removed it if I wasn’t ready for this. For us.”

Your eyes are locked on his as you do so, curling your lips gently as his arm slips around your waist to hold you close.

“What about…Hoseok?” He whispers hesitantly, apprehension written all over his face.

You knew this would come up, and it’s all that’s been on your mind over the weeks since he’d confessed.

Emotions are so complicated and slippery, especially when nothing is clear, when all you have is doubts and nothing is ever communicated.

He watches patiently as you try to think of how to communicate the choice you’ve made properly to him, so he won’t think this is a rash decision on your part.

“I’ve had years to process those emotions, and nothing has ever come of it. Perhaps it’s because I never communicated them properly, or maybe I just didn’t have the courage to face the rejection.”

You smile fondly at him as he listens intently, your heart stuttering at the complete open trust and acceptance in his eyes.

“Honestly, I’ve been blinded by my own wants and needs for so long with him, yet I never took the time to find out how he felt. He’s my friend, and that will never change. As much as it hurt to hear how he truly felt about me, I needed that. I can’t be even remotely mad or upset with him, as it’s me who was hurting myself all this time.”

“What I feel, or felt for Hoseok has nothing to do with you and I. It’s a fleeting possibility that I spent far too long being preoccupied with. I didn’t need the time I asked for just to solidify how I felt about you, Yoongi.”

As you speak, you can feel the confidence and determination in your words as he holds you close, giving you the courage to continue.

“I wanted to make sure that when and if I was able to take this step with you, I would be giving you all of me. Not just fragments warring with an unrequited crush for someone else. I’m laying that part of me to rest, even if you decide that you want to stop right here. That you want to just stay friends-”

The limbo you’ve both been suspended in seems to pop like a bubble as he suddenly flips you on your back, drawing out a small surprised cry from you.

“That’s all I need to hear.” He growls, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

The force behind it has your teeth digging into his lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth desperately as you meet his need with your own.

Clinging to the soft fabric of his sweater, your legs slip around his thighs as he presses you into the couch with his hips.

His erection is even more prominent in this position as he presses wet kisses along your jaw, his hands slipping down to slip under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.

Soft cries leave your parted lips as he rolls his hips, your already damp panties starting to soak through as he grinds against you.

“I don’t want to be just friends.” The heat of his breath brushing over your neck causes you to shiver, your fingers grasping frantically at his sweater until your fingertips meet the hem, slipping your hands up his naked back.

“Give me all of you.” The rough timbre of his voice alone has you arching your back as he helps you yank his sweater over his head, tossing carelessly to the side.

The sight of him bare chested, hovering over you with that long hair hanging down almost undoes you right there and then.

Placing your hands on his stomach, you run your palms slowly upwards, enjoying each and every twitch and spasm you extract.

The way he bites his lip, the soft, throaty gasps.

How his eyes seem to darken to onyx in lust.

Pushing against him, you sit up as you slip your hands up his chest to his shoulders, then down his arms.

Without uttering a word, you take his hand and tug him up, leading him to the darkened doorway of your room.

As you reach the edge of your bed, he spins you around, tugging your shirt over your head before crushing his mouth against yours once more.

Your head spins from his familiar fragrance of warm spice and tobacco from his cologne, reveling in the fact that he’s covering you in his scent.

Rough calluses brush against your bare flesh, his hands eager yet gentle as he explores you as if they’re dying of thirst and your body is the only thing that can sustain him.

He reacts to each soft whimper, every drawn out moan with his own, heightening the ache between your legs as he backs you towards the bed.

Your nails graze lightly down his back as his teeth nip the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue laving at the tiny marks he’s leaving behind.

“Harder.” he commands, his hands finally slipping down to grab handfuls of your ass to press you into him.

Without even having to question what he means, you dig your nails into the skin of his back, raking them harshly down his skin to leave angry red lines behind.

The room upends as he topples you onto the firm mattress, clinging to one another as you tug and pull, your hands finally making their way back to the button of his pants.

This time he doesn’t stop you, propping himself up to watch as you yank and unzip, pushing down the material keeping him from you.

His ragged panting fills the air around you as he helps you kick them off along with his boxers, your stomach tightening as you encircle his cock as it springs out.

“Oh fuck-” He grunts, hips jerking forward as you stroke along the length.

Before you can respond, he’s returning the favor, yanking off your pants, leaving you only in your bra and panties beneath him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful-” his voice is coarse as he rakes his gaze over you, dipping down to press his face between your breasts to inhale you.

“Yoongi…” You whimper, shivering as his hair tickles your sensitive skin as your hands slip around his back to stroke over the harsh marks you’ve left.

He settles his weight on you, his hips dragging the underside of his dick along your panties as he palms your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

“So soft..” He mumbles, tugging down the lace harshly and at this point, you don’t give a damn if he’s torn it.

His words contrast with the feel of him against you, stiff, thick and throbbing as you soak through your panties with every motion he makes.

“Yoongi, oh my god-you’re driving me-insane-” You manage to stutter as he wraps his lips around your taut nipple, suckling gently as he gazes up at your flushed face.

Your fingers find their way back into his hair, grasping desperately as he grins, his eyes shining with delight, your other hand clinging to his shoulder for dear life.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, slowly kissing his way along the valley of your tits, making his way over to give the other fair treatment.

His warm breath tickles your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath as he laughs softly at how you’re reacting to him.

“Lose your mind then, love. I’ve been losing mine over you for years.”

He punctuates the words with a harsh suck as he claims your other nipple, causing your back to arch for him, digging your nails into his shoulder as you tug at his hair.

Your eyes roll as he circles his tongue around the tightened bud, his eyes never leaving your face as the ache between your thighs throbs with need at his every touch.

Years…

You’ve seen many sides of Min Yoongi but nothing compares to the sheer control he has right now, all while holding back the desperate need you can see in his stare.

Your cries grow louder as he reaches between you, his strong hand gripping the side of your panties and ripping the flimsy material, flinging them to the side.

The moment your panties are gone, his fingers are slipping between your lower lips, parting them as he lets out a soft, deep whimper of his own.

You barely register his hand slipping behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra to tug off the now damaged garment.

Your mind is consumed by how deftly his fingers tease at your core, his thumb honing in on your sensitive clit.

“You’re so gorgeous like this…” he rasps out, eyes hooded as he watches you arch your back as he gently circles his thumb, licking his lips as his breathing becomes even more ragged.

Choking back a moan, you writhe under his palm as he teases a fingertip into you before pulling back to rake his eyes over your naked form.

The tightness in your stomach builds as you shudder beneath him, yanking harshly on the hair clenched in your fist.

The moment he flashes that sexy lopsided smile, you can’t hold back anymore.

The last thing you want to do is lie here losing your mind when he looks far too in control.

“Min Yoongi, if you aren’t buried deep inside of me in the next ten seconds-”

Your words are punctuated by another tug of his hair, your legs slipping around his thighs, hips tilting to offer yourself up to him in desperation.

Before you can even finish your sentence, his mouth is on yours once more, his fingers parting from you to guide the head of his cock against your aching entrance.

He lets out a shuddering breath against your lips, a soft groan building in his throat as you feel him start to sink into your warmth.

He brings his hand up to cup your face as he slowly fills you, the sound of your name on his lips swallowed up as you deepen the kiss.

You gasp as you feel yourself clench around him, your body already shaking beneath him as he draws back just to thrust forward once more.

“Fuck-!” he growls as his lips leave yours, looking down between you to watch his cock delve into you, “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?”

All you can muster is a moan, then a sharp gasp as he pulls almost all the way out, then thrusts forward suddenly as he bottoms out within you.

“Yoongi!” you cry out, wet noises filling the room as he starts snapping his hips into you, setting a hard but steady pace.

All you can do is watch his face as he fucks you, that gorgeous dark hair dangling above you as he bites his lip in concentration.

“Look at me.” you demand between moans, drawing his attention back to you.

His eyes flick up to your face, then rake down your body and back up as the force of his thrusts cause your body to shake beneath him.

“I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you, fuck you feel so good-” He moans as he dips down to reclaim your lips.

“Don’t fucking stop-” you whimper between kisses, and he only responds by grasping your wrist and pinning it over your head.

His mouth leaves yours, hot breath skimming over your chin, then your neck as he kisses and licks his way over to your ear.

“Do you like it when I fuck your pretty little pussy?” He growls, the deep tone of his voice sending a shock through your body alone.

His pace quickens as you tighten around him, your moans and whimpers only encouraging him as you begin to feel the familiar need building in your abdomen.

“Fuck, yes, Yoongi! Harder!” you scream, the heat of his breath, the sounds of his guttural moans vibrating in your eardrum pushing you closer and closer to tipping over that precipice.

Your back arches, angling your hips so that he’s hitting your sensitive clit with each thrust as his cries grow louder, melding with your own.

The sound of your name in your ear almost undoes you, and you let out a choked scream as he draws back to look down at you.

“So close-” you gasp as he releases your wrist, threading his fingers with yours above your head.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna come for me?” he rasps out as he watches your face contort with every motion.

You nod your head frantically, feeling as if you’re balanced on a tightwire and all you want to do is fall off.

You can feel his entire body quaking as he continues to speak, the sexiest filth dripping from his lips in that rich deep voice.

“Let me feel you come around my cock, baby, that’s it. You’re all mine, all fucking mine, and I’m all yours-fuck! God, your cunt is perfect, so tight and wet, I just want to fill you full-”

Each word is like a nudge, and finally the sensation that’s been bubbling up within you this entire time seems to erupt from every single cell in your body as you finally tip over the edge.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” is all your brain can manage as your orgasm crashes into you, clenching tightly around him as your body lifts from the bed.

Your strangled cries are met with his own, ripped from his throat as his eyes widen, his lips parting in an “o” as he throws his head back and thrusts forward once more.

A warm burst fills you as his whole body tenses above you, trying your hardest to watch him fall apart along with you.

The ringing in your ears starts to fade, and the only sounds in the room are your combined labored breathing as he slowly lowers himself down to nuzzle his face into your neck.

You gasp as you involuntarily clench around him, a hoarse moan escaping him as he slowly gives you a few small thrusts as he finally empties himself deep inside of you.

Swallowing harshly, you do your best to catch your breath as you comb your fingers through his damp hair.

You’re both covered in sweat, you think, a small smile curling your lips as you close your eyes and bask in the after effects of your joining.

“Fuck.” Yoongi grumbles into your neck, his lips dancing over your sticky skin.

“Mhm.” you agree, humming softly.

Floating through the haze of bliss, you finally open your eyes as you feel him draw back, withdrawing from you to leave a wet mess seeping out.

Your eyes meet his and he just gives you a sleepy smile as you continue to run your fingers through the strands of his hair.

He rolls you both to the side, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you softly, no words spoken for what seems like eternity.

No words are really needed, just soft touches, kisses, little smiles and laughs as your eyes meet.

The sun starts to creep through the blinds before he finally whispers that he will return in a moment, leaving you only long enough to bring back a warm cloth to clean you up a bit.

Blushing slightly, you help do the same for him, tossing the cloth into the laundry before you settle back into his arms.

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he lets out a long breath.

“You’re not leaving yet, right? You’ll stay for a bit?” You ask him, finally breaking the silence as the birds sing outside the window.

He laughs softly, propping himself up to look down at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Of course I’m not just leaving…unless you’re kicking me out?” He responds, biting his lip as he runs his finger along your shoulder.

You snort, shaking your head, “Sorry, no. You told me you’re all mine so I think I may just keep you.”

You do your best to keep a straight face, failing horribly as he feigns shock, his brows drawing together adorably as he protests.

“You think?!” he teases, sliding his arm around you to pull you closer, rolling you both so you’re on top of him.

“Hmm…” you straddle his hips, brushing back his dark strands as you admire the handsome man beneath you, “I can be convinced…”

He gives you that familiar gummy smile you love so much before he’s growling out your name, tugging your mouth to his as he laughs.

“Oh, really? I’m actually quite good at pleading my case…” he hums as his hands slip down to take two handfuls of your ass.

“By all means-”

It’s midday by the time you both manage to uncling to one another.

“I shouldn’t have let you shower with me…” you hum as you make coffee, shaking your head as you feel his arms wrap around you from behind.

“Well, we were just conserving water…” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle as you contemplate what to make for an early dinner.

By the time you get around you checking your phone, you sigh at the many missed messages and calls.

“I think Hoseok is going to send the police to my house.” you tell Yoongi as you both sit down to finally eat something.

He just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he gestures to your phone.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet, honestly.” He grumbles, taking a bite as you read through your messages.

“Well that would be a fun conversation…” you hum, biting your lip as you contemplate how that is going to go over with everyone.

“Speaking of…” Yoongi says, placing his utensils down as he leans back to look at you.

You glance at him, knowing what he’s thinking.

“Should probably leave that to me.” You tell him before he can continue.

Feeling suddenly shy, you clear your throat as you look over at him.

He’s only wearing a pair of your sweats, his naked shoulders and chest distracting you as you try to think of your next words.

“We are…together ... .like…” you gesture with your hands, embarrassed at asking.

He only blinks at you, shock on his face before he is leaning forward and taking your hand.

“Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend now?” He asks, an amused lopsided smile growing on his face at how flustered you are.

You just slap his hand, but then slip your fingers through his, nodding shyly.

“Yes, baby. I told you last night…I want you. All of you.” he whispers.

Your eyes meet his and you can only blush, your cheeks heating at his words.

“You have me, then. All of me.” you tell him.

“Where the fuck is she?” Hoseok mutters, doing his best to contain the rising panic as he makes his way to your apartment building.

Checking his phone for the hundredth time since last night, he sighs.

Over the last month, it feels as if you’ve been withdrawing more and more, but you still respond to his messages.

If he’s being honest, it didn’t feel very good.

All he can think of is the comments everyone has been making.

What if she does end up dating?

What if she has someone she likes?

Hoseok can only frown as he finally gets in the elevator to take him up to see you.

Of course, that would eventually happen.

Someone she’s interested in, other than me, he thinks.

The idea is so completely foreign, he has a hard time wrapping his mind around it.

More important than me?

Shaking off the thought and this feeling of discontent it brings, he pushes himself off the side of the elevator wall as the doors open.

Making his way down your hallway, he glances up as your door opens, a sense of relief filling him as he hears your familiar laugh.

That relief is short-lived as he hears a man’s voice responding to your voice.

Not just any man’s voice-

He stops in shock as he watches you emerge from your apartment, hand in hand with another man.

He can’t make out the words, but his heart seems to drop into his stomach as he recognizes the owner of the hand in yours.

Min Yoongi.

Fucking Min Yoongi…holding your hand.

The hand holding his phone clenches tightly as he watches his friend lean in and brush your hair back, your eyes seeming to dance with happiness as you gaze at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he hears faintly as he watches you nod to him.

“Tomorrow.” he hears your voice respond.

The world seems to stop as he watches two of his closest friends lean towards each other and kiss.

“No way…” he whispers, but it’s not amusement or happiness at watching two obvious lovers leaving one another.

No…against everything that is logical, he feels a burning rage and betrayal building deep in his stomach.

Before he can even process it, he’s turning on his heel, making his way to the emergency stairs and rushing down and out of the building before either of you notice him.

His phone starts to buzz as he makes his way home, and he sends it to voicemail immediately.

He can’t even form the words to say to you right now.

Not while he’s feeling like this.

Whatever this was.

#bwhq ficstoric society #ksmutsociety #Min Yoongi smut #Yoongi Smut #BTS Yoongi Smut #Suga Smut #BTS Suga Smut #bts au #bts fanfic

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lo1k-diamonds · 24 days ago

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I was a bookworm growing up and besides typical detective/mystery stories, what really got me into literature was fantasy - stories just like this one that take me to another world and make me live universes and dream of an alternate life.

It's funny to say this about fanfiction, but at the same time, the best writers are right here, creating amazing stories with characters/people we know. With a worldbuilding, characterization, vocabulary, sensorial descriptions, spice, and an overarching plot that rivals most things being published now.

Enters this world and this fic. It's just one of those little gems (no pun intended 👀) that I will always raise high and above and suggest to anyone who would lend an ear.

I think I've read it four times, and I have always cried multiple times. I have the blessing of the memory of a goldfish, mind you. Not everyone can read/watch something multiple times and sort of "forget" it, getting an almost full experience every time. But since I do get to read stories like this, I get to feel everything all over again. Getting thrown into an intricate political sphere with complex relationships, meeting Jungkook for the first time, feeling the tension and interest buzz between characters as minds are changed and decisions are made, all while kicking my feet at how the guys just won't get off his back and giggling about Onyx being right on the nose (obviously, he knows what's up). Everything is so neatly tied together and enriched with love, from one edge to the other, that I just want to be the OC and get taken away to be this man's partner. This man who is attentive, callous at times, but generous and determined and strong, and accepting and---

So a ten out of ten that I love to re-read when I need a good fantasy AU with a deliciously buff and dark JK. I'm proud to say I worked hard for a sequel and will patiently wait for it as the magic happens ✨

On Wings of Mist & Memories | JJK

▻ On Wings of Mist & Memories ↳ DragonRider!Jungkook x FieldScribe!f.Reader ⤜ Exiled Royalty, High Fantasy AU ⤜ Enemies to Lovers | Angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 39,753 ⤜ Summary: You’re a Psion—disguised Field Scribe—of the Golden Kingdom of Bolas, attached to the Front Wing Infantry. After an ambush from the sky rips down the safe walls around you, you find yourself at the mercy of a brutal man, his dragon, and his shadows. ⚠️ Crass language, combat/violence, minor character deaths, talk of war, brief nudity (nonsexual, mostly), sexual references and feelings, flashback minor character death, mild sexual tension, suggestive inner thoughts, lots of sexual tension, crude banter, fingering, kissing, dirty talk, teasing, shadow penetration/sex (it's exactly what you're probably thinking it is: fun af), lots of praise, sexual pleading/begging, endearingly awkward sexual tension, shameless flirting, oral m. receiving, shadow clit play, nipple pinching/teasing, v. sex, mild cum play & eating, multiple orgasms, sad feelings/thoughts of the future, fighting, mild violence, implied minor character death, minor character terminal sickness that leads to off-page death, talk of forced bonds, heartache, pregnancy, off-page childbirth Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Chapter 1: Shadowsword

Chapter 2: Oath Breaker

Chapter 3: Burnished Heart

Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ August 2023 “A Love Like War” Writing Event.

A special thank you to @hisunshiine @downbad4yoongi & @peachiilovesot7 for being the best betas!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Glossary/Map Mave - dragon rider who can wield magic, tethered to the soul of their dragon when they bond (death for both if one dies) Psion - infinite memory/recall Reaver - a dragon that can wield magic, tethered to the soul of the rider they bond (death for both if one dies) Noks - infantry soldiers, humanoids who can enter berserk/rage mode Rider - regular dragon rider, no magic, uses bows or scouts Brute - riderless dragon, usually wild and very dangerous Wielder - magic user, no dragon needed Signis - the designated/specific type of power someone wields Helnite - metal ore that can cut off magic from its user Golden Blight - incurable blood disease

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-08 ColorMePurplex2

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colormepurplex2 · 5 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!

🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂

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.

🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂

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.”

🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂🍂 🍂

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.

🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂

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.

🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂

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 · 4 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 💜

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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.

261 notes · View notes

colormepurplex2 · 2 months ago

Text

This is easily one of the most indulgent fics I've consumed lately, haha. Want some shameless Taekook x reader sandwich action? This delivers, literally.

Side note: I've only ever been on a party bus once and it was nothing like this...and now I'm kind of sad about that.

But, in all realness. Tae asks,

"Can you handle it?"

Dude, idk...but I'm willing to try 😂😂

can you handle it?

🔞pairing: Tae x Reader X JK

🔞genre: Girls Night Out AU, Strangers to lovers, pure unadulterated smut, porn with little plot, threesome, party bus sex, playboys Tae and JK

🔞rating: M

🔞wordcount: 3909

⚠️chapter warnings: extremely descriptive and graphic smut scene

summary: A night out with the girls was meant to be simple fun—until a chance encounter turns the heat up. Drinks, dancing, a flirtation that goes too far… Now, the only question left is: Can You Handle It?

Being single for the last seven months has put your life into perspective; it’s pretty boring. You thought throwing yourself into your work would fill that void of loneliness, but so far you have been very wrong.

You haven't been out with the girls in a while and the idea of a party bus sounds like the perfect Friday night. Your BFF insists the male-to-female ratio is always lit on this booze tour and she promises nobody's going home alone.

"Who says I wanna take anybody home?” you sneer, becoming instantly defensive. “Don’t assume I’m in need of a dick appointment just because I’ve been single for almost a year.”

“Nobody’s saying you have to start a whole new relationship. You just need to get yours before you explode from the stress,” she reminds her in the sweet yet patronizing tone of a best friend who doesn’t hold back.

“I get mine!” You exclaim dramatically.

“Your vibrator doesn’t count bitch. Get ready. Bus will be there in forty-five minutes.”

She hangs up before you can protest further and you race to get ready. You take a quick shower and then decide to throw on the cute hot pink dress you purchased as a pick-me-up – you know, the one you thought you’d wear to get over him, but never did. Then you slip into your stilettos, apply light makeup and throw your hair into a messy bun.

You inspect yourself in the mirror, deciding it's good enough for a night out with the girls, since you have no intention of hooking up with anyone. You just want to live for tonight; with great music, good company, and lots of drinks. Your thought process is interrupted by a notification letting you know the bus is arriving, and you take a few deep breaths before rushing with restraint to the door.

There’s already a decent number of riders when you board, though not a single guy appeals to your taste; which is fine since you’re not interested in hooking up. But within a few stops you find yourself needing to reinforce this mantra of self imposed celibacy, when two insanely good-looking men step onto the bus and instantly catch your eye.

You wonder if they're brothers. Both are tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled jaws, deep brown eyes, and black hair that looks casually mussed yet perfectly coiffed at the same time. Your breath hitches as they choose to sit right across from you.

Your BFF raises an approving mischievous eyebrow in your direction that you return with a quick sneering glare. However, you’re already beginning to feel shy and exposed as both of the tantalizing men seem to eye your dangerously bare legs, making you feel as if maybe you should have dressed down for the night.

The tour stops at a few smaller pubs, giving just enough time for a couple shots and a little mingling. But you're unable to control the urge, constantly finding yourself scanning the room for the two guys from the bus. Each time you find them they seem to be staring in your direction, as if sizing you up. When you finally arrive at the last stop - one of the hottest night clubs in the area - some of the riders go their separate ways while the rest of the party heads inside to continue the night's festivities.

Bottles cover the table in the VIP, shots are passed around, and eventually the party heads to the dance floor. Your favorite song plays and your body moves to the familiar rhythm without thought. You close your eyes, letting the music flow through you - relaxing you - making you forget.

Before you know it, the two men you’ve been playing I spy with all night have you sandwiched, their hands on your hips, your bodies now moving in unison to the beat you were alone in a moment ago.

"I'm Taehyung, this is my friend, Jungkook. We noticed you noticing us,” One says confidently from where he dances behind you. “Is there something we can help you with?” he asks, pulling your body against his and letting his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

His friend, Jungkook, notices your pupils flare in response to Taehyung's question and he moves closer, pressing his body to yours. The pressure of them against you feels so right, as if it was fate calling your name, convincing you this is what you need.

You instantly feel your body relax between them. Melding with them as you continue to move to the music. All thoughts of your earlier mantra dissolving under their touch. Taehyung loosens his grip on your waist, and soon his hands are exploring; roaming your body, sliding across sections of bare skin not hidden by your dress, seeking to know you through touch. All the while you stare into Jungkook’s smiling, excited eyes as his friend continues his tour of your body. His expression tells you you’re beautiful, you’re sexy, you’re desired. His hungry penetrating gaze and Tae’s roaming hands transform you into the goddess you always knew was within, awaiting release.

You’re so intent on his eyes, you don’t notice Jungkook’s hand leaving your waist to join the expedition, and the sudden feel of his curious fingers trailing up your inner leg, stopping just short of your already quivering slit, makes your knees buckle. His eyes light up with increased excitement. He leans forward taking a nibble of your ear, inching his fingers into your lonely passage, opening you, releasing your essence. They move inside you as if joining in on the dance. You let out an audible sigh as he exits.

"Already wet and we haven’t even begun the fun yet," he teases, holding up his slick glistened fingers for Tae to see.

Your inner goddess shrinks back a bit in embarrassment as you quickly look around at the throng of people dancing near you. “Stop that,” you giggle nervously as you grab Jungkook’s wrist in an attempt to lower his hand from view. But he’s too strong and you have little success in moving him even an inch.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he purrs as he brings his wet fingers to your lips, your hand still gripping his wrist. Then his lips follow, kissing you over his fingers, your tongues meet, exploring each other’s mouths, savoring your taste.

One of Taehyung’s exploring hands slips quietly beneath the hem of your dress. He cups the supple curve of your ass, squeezing once before slowly descending in search of the treasure below. Two of his long slender fingers slide eagerly into your now quivering walls and you feel the heat of his breath on your neck as his tongue lingers up behind your ear, his lips planting a warm kiss.

"She's definitely ready," he growls, tasting your sweet nectar.

Grinding against you, it becomes evident they feel the same. Slick dripping down your thigh, you return the favor, palming both of their cocks, feeling them harden from your touch.

"You guys want to get out of here? We can go to my place.” The desperation in your request was fairly obvious.

"Be patient princess, we've got time," Jungkook utters, moaning at the tender grip you have on his stiff member.

His lips meet your neck and he nibbles and sucks, marking you, claiming you as theirs. You feel his bulging cock twitch in your hand when you lay your head back onto Taehyung’s chest, inviting him to mark the other side of your neck.

Just as he finishes leaving his second mark, the song ends. You lead them off the dance floor towards the VIP and they follow like obedient servants, making you feel powerful and seductive - a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. Your inner Goddess beams with pride.

They untuck their shirts as you enter the VIP, attempting to hide their arousal. But you know what awaits you beneath those layers of fabric. You felt the promise of what they have to offer and you can’t wait to claim your rewards.

In the VIP more rounds of shots are poured, the flirting and teasing continues, and everyone is drunk and oblivious to the private party taking place right in front of them. Welcoming kisses from their soft lips, deliberate caresses of your inner thighs, your body aching for more.

As the night lingers on guests begin leaving, opting for a rideshare rather than the party bus. Your BFF is still on the dance floor with the man she decided she was going home with tonight, and upon noticing you’re still at the club she dashes over to the VIP.

“Give the driver your address, because I *hiccup* going home with Miguel! He knows how to Tango *hiccup* perfectly in this!” She quickly scurries back to him and they exit the club, his hand cupped on her round ass as they walk out.

You jot down your address on a napkin, Taehyung grabs it from you, slipping it into his pocket, having heard the conversation between you and your friend.

"Looks like it's just us, are you ready, baby?" Taehyung asks with his deep, seductive voice. The sheer tone sends chills through every orifice on your body, causing your skin to shiver and fill with goosebumps. Jungkook places his large hand on the small of your back, leading you to the exit.

“Take the longest route to this address,” Taehyung insists, handing the driver the napkin and a hundred dollar bill, before following you and Jungkook into the private back section of the party bus.

Just as they had earlier, you sit across from them, teasingly spreading your legs, revealing your exposed core. Moaning as you dip two fingers into your warm core and pull them out, sucking and releasing them with a pop.

Taehung eyeballs you while palming himself, nodding at Jungkook to give you what you’re clearly in need of. Standing up, Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head, unbuttoning and allowing his pants to fall to his feet, his hard cock standing at attention for you. He slowly crouches into a kneel in front of your parted thighs, his fingers linger over your slit, your whole body quivering with desire.

The sensation of his warm tongue feasting on your clit numbs all your other senses. A slow burn starts in the pit of your stomach, surging slowly through your veins with every suck, swirl and lick. He plunges his tongue inside your succulent, tight walls as your euphoric orgasm comes to a peak. Fingers gripping his hair holding his head in place, your core grinding against his face accelerating your high.

"K-Kook I'm cumming!" The elevated tone in your voice summons Taehyung's lips to your mouth, muffling your moans, his tongue exploring your mouth, entangling with yours.

When you finish, Jungkook stands, wiping your slick from his chin before settling back on the velvet bench seat across from you. Watching him lustfully as he strokes his hard cock. Taehyung stands over you, large cock in hand ready to stretch your walls to the point of no return.

Before he has a chance, Jungkook calls him over, inaudibly whispering into Tae’s ear. They both look you over, sneering and smirking, mischievous grins on their faces.

“We’re keeping secrets now?,” you inquire playful, yet pouty.

“He said, ‘I don’t think she’s ready for what we’re gonna give her,’ so the question is can you handle it?” Taehyung questioned, his dark, hooded eyes filled with lust, ready to pound into you, filling you with his large cock.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank tonight, maybe it’s the lack of sexual release in the last 8 months, but the words that leave your mouth next surprise all of you.

“I’m ready to take whatever you’re going to give me,” your finger pointing daringly at Taehyung, which he obviously takes as a challenge.

“Come sit on it then,” Tae commands while using both hands to stroke his massive shaft.

You stand up, hiking your dress to your waist and walk over to him, straddling his thick thighs as you position him at your entrance. Slowly guiding him into you, walls stretching more than they ever have around his girthy cock. You feel him in your stomach, wanting to tap out, but refusing to lose a challenge.

He feels your hesitation once he’s buried deep inside of you, his large hands grip your hips, lifting you up and down, coaxing your hips to roll. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you close as he lays down on the bench seat, giving himself better leverage from the bottom.

The sudden feel of a finger teasing the outer rim of your other hole surprises you, however, your body is aroused with ecstasy and you let yourself relax into it.

That is, until you notice Jungkook stand and slowly make his way to you, throbbing cock in hand and a sly grin on his perfect face, fully aware Taehyung is only readying you for what’s to come.

He leans down and kisses you more softly than you expect, letting you feel the curve of his playful grin against your trembling lips before sliding down to your neck, trailing kisses along your nape as he moves behind you and out of view, only the feel of him mapping out his conquest betraying his location.

Tae grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes, the fingers of his other hand still prodding and prepping that yet to be opened portal of pleasure.

"Look at me, baby," he purrs, "focus on me."

You nod in acquiescence, almost forgetting the looming figure at your back as your hungry eyes lock on his and you continue your rhythmic hip slide up and down his enormous shaft.

Jungkook’s grinning lips and hot tongue disappear suddenly from your back, his hand bearing down gently until your face is mere inches from Taehyungs.

Tae smiles at you with hooded, amused eyes.

"Ready, baby?" He asks in a sultry whisper.

You don't have time to answer. All you can do is gasp for breath as you feel Jungkooks swollen head against your opening, rubbing against it, fighting Taes finger for room to enter.

Your entire being becomes filled by them both. You're consumed by the pressure of their hard cocks moving in unison, stretching and stimulating every nerve ending, forcing a deep moan to escape past your pressed lips.

Jungkook’s moans soon harmonize with yours, and Taehyung’s mouth forms a boxy smile of satisfaction at the sound. “I think he likes it as much as you,” he teases from below. But the only response you can manage is another groan as his hands slide to your ass, gripping each cheek and spreading them to allow Jungkook deeper access.

“I do love a tight ass.” Jungkook growls into your ear, pressing you down, pinning you between their sweaty bodies as you struggle to keep your hips in motion, craving more of the sensation of their cocks moving against each other through your walls.

“Harder,” you cry out, finally able to form a word.

Tae, his hands still spreading your ass open, thrusts up and pulls you forward until he’s buried deep inside, almost forcing Jungkook out of you from within. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of desperation and your hands frantically grab at Jungkook’s solid thighs to keep him in place.

Tae can’t take his eyes off your gaping mouth, and without notice he slides carefully out of you and from beneath you, leaving you with a hollow feeling until Jungkook’s arm slides around your waist from behind, lifting you, never exiting his conquered domain as he shifts to sit on the bench. He bites softly at your shoulders and back as he pulls each of your legs over his knees and spreads his legs wide, exposing your now empty throbbing pussy to Taehyung.

You stare at Tae standing before you, his glistening cock heavy in his hand as his thumb slides back and forth over the slick, fat head. The sight, along with the feel of Jungkook filling you up is more than you can bear and you reach down to slide your own fingers into the hot wetness between your legs to fill some of the emptiness, but the look in Tae’s eyes says he has other plans.

His accomplice sees his intent and quickly grabs your arms up over your head, holding them together by the wrists with just one large hand while the other hand runs over your breasts, lightly pinching and flicking your hardened nipples. His body never stops moving beneath you as he continues your rhythm. He laughs softly as you unconsciously attempt to pull a hand free to touch yourself with, desperate to relieve the building pressure.

“You can’t be done yet, beautiful,” Jungkook instructs in your ear, his tongue running along its sensitive edges, making your eyes shut and your head loll back in pleasurable despair. “My friend hasn’t gotten what he really wants yet.”

You feel Taehyung move closer, hovering just outside of your entrance but not allowing contact, the heat of him radiating into you as if he was still inside. You squeeze your eyes closed tighter, enjoying the anticipation of what's to come, but then snap them back open, suddenly desperate to see his gorgeous face as he slides back into you. His boxy, mischievous smile returns as your eyes meet his.

“Please,” you suddenly beg, the plea surprising even you. His smile grows, and just as suddenly he plunges back into you, the friction of their cocks once again sliding against each other through that thin wall, sending shock waves of bliss through your body, and then he is gone again.

Before you can moan a complaint, Jungkook releases your arms and in one swift motion lowers you both to the floor, his pace and depth intensifying. You reach up greedily with one hand and lead Tae’s dripping cock to your ready mouth. Your lips stretch and your jaw aches pleasurably as you take in his girth. He groans loudly for the first time, the sound spurring you on as you take him in deeper than you’ve ever taken a man before.

You can feel the wetness drip from your aching, needy pussy; the taste of Tae and the depth of Jungkook taking you to new levels of ecstasy. You brace your knees and the palm of one hand hard into the rough carpet, ignoring the sting of pain as layers of skin were stripped away.

Jungkook’s hand slides around, three fingers immediately entering you, filling that void you so desperately needed filled. You regretfully release Tae, leaning back into Jungkook as an earth shattering orgasm begins to build within your body, allowing him better access to your opening. Tae quickly covers your open moaning mouth with his as his hand joins Junkook in its mission to push you over the edge.

You bounce and writhe against the increasing hardness of Jungkook’s cock in your ass and the pressure of his fingers inside of you. You moan into Tae’s devouring mouth and shudder under the weight of his fingers rapidly rubbing your already swollen clit.

The first orgasm had been a mere fraction of what rocketed through your body this time, and both of them grip you tightly as you convulse under their continued attack. At its crescendo you feel Jungkook pull out of both of your holes, pulling you back against him as the warmth of his load spreads between your pressed bodies. Tae slides between your spread legs, forcing them wider, and reinserts himself into your overstimulated swollen cunt.

Thrusting wildly, his stroke becomes uncontrolled, unpredictable, penetrating deep within your walls. Your orgasm that you thought was over returns with renewed vigor, repeaking, surpassing the crescendo and tumbling you into oblivion.

“Don’t fight it,” Jungkook instructs from behind where he holds you steady, one arm around your waist to anchor you, the other kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples.

Just when you thought you had reached your pleasure limit, Taehyung abruptly pulls out, his cum spurting hot and sticky against your inner thighs, the sweat from his brow dripping onto your breasts as he leans over you catching his breath.

You sag in Jungkook’s arms, unable to move, your muscles spent from the exertion. You can feel the pinging sensation of your nerve endings as they continue to fire off between your legs, like a post orgasm firework display.

For a long time the three of you lay, spent and exhausted, naked sweaty bodies tangled together, only the sound of your heavy breathing and the hum of the bus breaking the silence. You feel… satiated. You feel euphoric. Your inner goddess is dancing.

Finally Tae stands and reaches out a hand to help you up. As you rise he pulls you to him, kissing you slowly and softly, lingering against your full lips. Jungkook rises behind you and begins to wipe away the mess he left on your back. Tae pulls away and looks into your eyes, his smile affectionately amused.

“There’s a restroom in the back,” he says casually as he releases you and takes a small towel from Jungkook. He pats his sweaty brow and you can only nod in response before sweeping your hot pink dress up off the floor and heading to the small airplane sized bathroom.

When you return they’re both dressed and lounging comfortably, drinks in hand, talking leisurely about nothing at all. And although you’ve all gotten to know one another extremely well tonight, you stand there in an awkward silence, waiting for one of them to notice you.

Tae turns to you first, his smile still amused yet kind at the same time. He approaches you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You look pretty with your hair down,” he whispers, before kissing you lightly on the cheek.

“I like it up,” Jungkook chimes in, “easier to grab onto.” He winks at you from where he still sits and then finishes his drink in one gulp.

You blush, but whether it's because of Tae’s sultry gentleness or Jungkook’s sexy cockiness is yet to be determined.

Jungkook stands and heads toward the door, and only then do you realize the bus is no longer moving. You follow him out, Tae close behind, and the three of you stand looking expectantly at each other on the sidewalk as the bus pulls away.

You can’t let the night end like this. You don’t want the night to end like this. No matter how many times you claimed you had no intention of taking anyone home, you couldn’t have imagined this scenario. There was no way you were letting it end here.

You grab both of their hands and lead them through the front door of your building. Upon entering the apartment, your dress drops to the floor and you head to the shower.

As soon as Tae and Jungkook hear the water running they make their way to you, undressing hastily to join. No words were exchanged as they ran their soapy hands over your body, washing away the remnants of passion, taking special care of the sensitive areas.

After drying off, they join you in bed, one on each side of you, holding you protectively as you all drift off to sleep together

#bwhq ficstoric society #bts fanfction #bts smut #bts #jk #taehyung #jungkook #graphic language #fiction #so hot and sexy #drunk shenanigans #consensual #semi public sex #threes0me #strangers to lovers #bangtanwhq

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 month ago

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I don't usually read ships, but this one got me, so let me talk about it.

I love the way that the story has a beginning, middle, and open ending, in this case. Of course, there's nothing wrong with cutting straight to the chase, but I personally enjoy things when they bother developing and taking me along the story rather than just happening.

And that's when I knew I'd like this story - because although you read the tags and should know where this is going, you really don't. The characters have their own identities and are unpredictable, and so I wondered and wondered how they'd 'get there'.

Long story short: unexpectedly! Jimin was an asshole but then actually sort of redeems himself by being willing to help Jungkook, so I'll let it slide 🙃 Jungkook would have probably been angrier if he could... (I was also expecting him to bottom, but anyway...)

I wonder what option he chose ;)

Bite Me

This is for @colormepurplex2 for the @bangtanwritershq ARMY Birthday Bash Event.

Vampire!Jimin X Vampire Hunter!Jungkook

4740 words

warnings: 🔞 smut, enemies to lovers, violence, blood and injury, semi-public sex

Summary:

“Were you looking for me?” Jimin whispers into the hunter’s ear.

Jungkook grunts loudly, immediately struggling in Jimin’s hold. “Let go, you fucking freak!”

“Tsk tsk. Now, why would I do that?” Jimin tucks his head down, nose burying in the back of the other man’s neck, “I’m rather quite enjoying myself, and you smell delicious. I think I just might be hungry enough for another meal.”

Jimin sits back with one foot propped against the low table in his VIP booth, gnawing on the end of the pick from his empty rocks glass as he glares across the space at the epitome of an asshole. Jimin can’t stand that Jeon Jungkook frequents the same bar owned and patronized by the "creatures" he claims to despise. All to brag about his skill in getting the upper hand and defeating the same people with whom the blood bunnies he's chatting up are obsessed. Each time without fail, he is able to bag a blood bunny for a quick lay before he moves on to the next one.

He can't understand why Yoongi allows the roach to do this. The solution to the infestation is glaringly apparent, but even Jimin won't cross Yoongi, the owner of Bite Me. The man is soft-hearted but can be very cold-blooded (pun intended) when necessary.

Jimin is pulled out of his sulking as the bench seat dips, and his companion rejoins him. Drenched in sweat, Momo plops beside him, draping her legs across his lap.

Her head lolls back against the back of the booth, "Are you going to sit here brooding all night?"

"I'm not brooding."

"What else would you call this?" Her hand waffles in front of his face.

"Keeping tabs," Jimin says drolly.

Momo rolls her eyes, "Why?"

"I'd be a fool not to; predators must keep eyes on their prey."

“Word on the street is that we’re his prey,” Momo whispers into Jimin’s ear, a sharp nail dragging down the side of Jimin’s exposed neck.

Jimin scoffs, “Only because he takes out the weakest.”

Momo grimaces, “You're no fun when you’re obsessing over him. Have you even fed tonight?”

Jimin snaps his eyes away from boring holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. His black eyes meet Momo’s chocolate orbs, a sign that she’s already fed tonight and fed well. Now that she’s drawn attention to it, Jimin can feel the aching burn in his throat. He’s been ignoring his need for too long.

Jimin’s pale lips part with a sigh. “You’re right. I have let myself get distracted.” He leans in, kissing her lips before slipping out onto the dance floor for his next meal.

He stalks across the floor, smells and sensations swirling around him. He moves through the writhing mass of bodies until he filters it all down, zeroing in on the lovely woman before him. Her black, cutaway mini dress teased him in all the right places.

He slips in behind her, his hand around her waist, palming her lower abdomen to bring her back against him. Her movements don’t falter as his hips follow her gyrations. Jimin noses aside strands of long, black hair to run his nose up the length of her neck, inhaling deeply.

“You are simply divine,” Jimin groans into the stranger’s ear.

She tosses her head back, leaning on his shoulder, “Hmm, does that normally work for you?”

With a firm nudge on her hip, Jimin spins her around to face him. His hands slip to her lower back as his gaze captures hers. A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels her free will slip away, and her body sways toward him. “For me, always, Dahyun.”

Jimin’s back collides with the dark brick of the alleyway as their tongues tangle together. Dahyun presses closer, fingers diving into his hair as she tries to wrest control of the kiss from Jimin. Jimin nips at her lip, chuckling darkly, “Uh-uh, sweet one. Be a good girl and behave.”

Pinning her to the rough wall, Jimin kisses her lips before nipping his way across her jaw and down one side of her neck. With a wanton groan, he licks his way up the other side before nuzzling back down to just above the juncture of her neck and shoulder and grazing his teeth against the skin. Jimin can feel Dahyun’s body try to tense up but acquiesce in the wake of Jimin’s want.

Jimin’s lips part in a grin, enjoying the thrill before he strikes. His teeth easily part the skin of her neck as he latches on and enjoys the essence of Dahyun. He draws deep, letting the thick, rich liquid coat his mouth before swallowing.

From the outside, it looks like a couple getting too intimate in a semi-public area, with Dahyun arching into Jimin, whimpering for more. One of Jimin’s hands cups the back of her neck while the other holds her leg around his hips as she rocks against him.

There is always the pull for Jimin to take it all, to take it too far. It’s hard to resist with each bite, but resist, he does. He pulls away when he feels Dahyun’s grip on his shoulders start to weaken. The key is never to take so much that the human can’t recover from what will feel like a moderate hangover.

Jimin laps over the minuscule puncture marks on her neck before trailing soft kisses back to her lips. His eyes now reflect light like the richest cognac, with a flush of pink to his cheeks and plump lips. With one last soft kiss to her lips, he asks, “It’s getting late. Don’t you think you should be getting home?”

Dahyun blinks slowly, “I think it’s getting late. I better get home.”

Jimin pretends to pout. “That’s a shame, but probably for the best. Wouldn’t want your hangover to get too bad.”

At that, Dahyun groans, “Ugh, my roommate will kill me if she has to take care of me again.”

Stepping back, Jimin helps her straighten her skirt, giving the final instruction, “You’ll go straight home and drink a glass of water before going to bed. Tomorrow morning when you awake, you’ll attribute feeling bad to having a hangover and having too much fun tonight.”

Jimin turns her on her heel and urges her back onto the street before turning in the opposite direction. He begins to slip back the other way but draws short as he catches a flash of shiny leather at the end of the alley. Jimin’s eyes narrow as Jungkook steps further into the alley, the light glinting off the silver of his blade.

They stand there like that staring each other down at a standoff. Jimin crosses his arms, hip cocking to the side in a silent challenge while Jungkook’s eyes narrow even more in a heated glare as he twirls the blade in his hand. The minute tensing of Jungkook’s shoulder tells Jimin he’s about to spur into action.

In a blur, Jimin is moving toward Jungkook and pinning him to the wall leaving Jungkook’s blade to bury into the wall where Jimin was standing. Jimin’s fingers curl around the younger man’s neck, holding him in place as he struggles to escape.

“Fuck off!” Jungkook seethes, pointedly casting his eyes downward, preventing Jimin from bespelling him with his glowing cognac gaze.

“Aw, but this is so much fun. Why do you want to end it so soon?” Jimin taunts.

Jungkook grunts, producing another blade from behind his back and lashing out toward Jimin. He connects only with air as Jimin moves in a blink several feet away to casually lean against the alley wall tutting under his breath.

“What? Are you too chicken to meet your death head-on?” Jungkook spits at him.

“I like stiff edges, just not the silver kind.” Jimin laughs as the hunter’s face flushes red.

Jungkook charges at him but again is left with nothing as Jimin twirls away, now putting several yards between the pair.

“Stop running, you coward!”

Jimin’s dark chuckle rebounds off the walls, “This isn’t running. This is playing with my food.” He tilts his head back, taking in the moon's position, “Lucky for you, I am quite full and have other places to be. Until next time Jeon.”

🩸🩸🩸

The door slams back into the bedroom wall creating a soft dent in the plaster in its wake. Jungkook is livid. That should have never happened. Jimin should be a pile of ash, and he should be here at home celebrating ridding the world of one more atrocity.

"Fuck!" Jungkook punches the wall. ? What the hell happened tonight? There's no way he is off of his game. He begins to strip, starting with removing his numerous blades. Each finds their home in their rightful sheaths before he yanks the clothes he was wearing off, depositing them in a hamper on the way to the shower.

The hot steam billows around him as he rests his forehead against the glass tile on the wall. Taking deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down. Anger and frustration will only hinder him as he figures out how to rid the world of Park Jimin.

🩸🩸🩸

Jimin steps out of Bite Me and turns in the direction of his home. The hard heels of his boots echo off the cobblestone as he makes his way past the back alley. It’s been several weeks since that confrontation he had with Jungkook, and ever since then, he hasn’t caught sight of the man at the club.

Perhaps Jimin actually scared some sense into him, and he’s found a new calling. He snorts to himself because he can’t even believe that likelihood. Jimin only sent him off with his tail between his legs, and Jungkook probably found a new club to lurk at.

With a shake of his head, Jimin puts the other man out of his mind and continues sauntering down the old cobblestone streets of the Old Town District. His hand is casually thrust into the pocket of his tight black pants, the off-white shirt he’s paired with them billowing slightly around him, only kept in place by the classic French tuck he used to style it. The outfit is simple but eye-catching, drawing just the right amount of attention he wants as he seeks out his next meal.

As he’s on his own hunt, he senses that someone is watching him a little too closely. He resists the urge to scratch at the back of his neck as he uses the rest of his senses to confirm that he is indeed being followed. Jimin continues on his way, feigning ignorance as he finally sets sights on a suitable meal choice. The tall, muscular man with the wire-framed spectacles is attempting to balance a stack of books in one arm while digging through his satchel with the other.

Jimin comes to the rescue just in time as the books slant to the left and starts to tumble from the man’s grasp. “Here, let me help you with that,” he offers with a warm smile. He gathers half the stack under his own arm and is rewarded with a grateful smile from the stranger.

“Thank you! I would have hated to soil them on the street–Yes!” the man exclaims abruptly, his other fist resurfacing from the depths of his bag with a set of keys. “Found them! I knew they were in there somewhere., “ he says in relief.

Jimin adopts an awkward chuckle, further providing a false sense of ease, “Congrats! I assume you had thought you lost those?”

The taller man’s head bobs bashfully, “Yeah. It wouldn’t have been the first time I would have had to call for help to get into my car. But the crisis is averted, and I can go home now.”

Jimin hefts the books held in the crook of his arm, “Let me help you the rest of the way?”

“You sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Not a bother at all. I’m happy to help.” After casting another grateful smile in his direction, the man turns and leads Jimin around the corner toward the public parking lot in the area.

Jimin assists in loading his backseat with the numerous tomes in their grasps. The man turns to Jimin to thank him for his help, and that’s his downfall. Jimin captures his gaze, and he sways forward, held in Jimin’s grasp until he’s ready to release him.

“Wh-what?” the man questions, his last bit of willpower struggling under the weight of Jimin’s power.

Jimin draws him closer with a hand on his arm and plucks his prey’s name from his mind, “I was just saying I was happy to help, Namjoon.” Jimin hovers his lips above Namjoon’s, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss before dipping down to trail his lips down the thick column of Namjoon’s neck. Pressing closer, he draws his lips back, the light glistening off his sharp canines, ready to bite.

He might have to revisit Namjoon, he was a tasty morsel Jimin muses as he navigates his way through Old Town again, having sent Namjoon on his way. He thinks about going home for the night, but first, he needs to rid himself of the little problem that’s been following him for the past several blocks. Jimin sensed his presence a few blocks after sending Namjoon home. As he moves to walk past another dark alleyway, instead of continuing forward, he darts to the side, disappearing down it knowing that his tail won’t be able to resist following him.

His super speed takes him around the block and to the mouth of the alley behind Jungkook’s unsuspecting back. Jimin slows and, with light steps, sneaks up behind Jungkook, pouncing forward he yanks him back in a tight rear chokehold.

“Were you looking for me?” Jimin whispers into the hunter’s ear.

Jungkook grunts loudly, immediately struggling in Jimin’s hold. “Let go, you fucking freak!”

“Tsk tsk. Now, why would I do that?” Jimin tucks his head down, nose burying the back of the other man’s neck, “I’m rather quite enjoying myself, and you smell delicious. I think I just might be hungry enough for another meal.”

Jungkook struggles even harder, throwing his whole body into it. Jimin tightens his hold and laughs loudly, continuing to taunt him. Jimins hold has slipped down to barricade Jungkook’s torso, but Jungkook is able to free one arm from Jimin's hold. He immediately goes for the blade on his thigh and lashes out with it. He manages to slice Jimin on the arm, surprising the supernatural being with the burning sting of silver.

With a hiss, Jimin pulls back, dropping his hold on the vampire hunter. He looks at his bloody sleeve, his expression folding back into one of pure malice before he lunges at the other man. He easily manages to slam Jungkook back into the wall, bits of brick flying off with the force, stunning him.

The crash distracts Jungkook enough to cause his guard to slip, giving Jimin just enough of a window to capture him with his powerful gaze. The tension from the hunter’s frame eases as Jimin bends him to his will.

“See, I would have just teased you a bit, maybe played a little cat and mouse with you.” Jimin grips Jungkook’s shoulders and slams him against the wall again, “But now you’ve just pissed me off and ruined one of my favorite shirts. So I’m really going to enjoy this.” Jimin fists the back of Jungkook’s hair and cranks his head to the side, baring the long, tan column of his prey’s neck. With a fleeting tease of his tongue against flesh, Jimin strikes.

He moans, his senses flooded with the divine taste of Jungkook. Jimin transitions his hold to a gentler embrace, cradling the taller man in his arms as he feeds. Time seems to stand still as Jimin drinks his fill and battles the temptation of draining the source dry.

Before he’s ready, Jimin pulls off of Jungkook with a gasp. He rests his head on the taller’s shoulder, running his tongue along his lips and teeth to savor the remnants. It takes a few minutes, but he finally regains his wits and straightens up, intense glowing chestnut orbs take in Jungkook’s dazed state.

Jimin’s had his fun but isn’t quite done with Jungkook yet. He pulls back on the thrall he’s kept the other man in, allowing him to become more aware of what’s happening.

It only takes a couple of moments before Jungkook snaps out of it, or as much as Jimin allows of it, and tries to struggle. “What the fuck? Did you just feed from me?” Tilting his head down a bit, Jungkook can see the blood staining his collar, “I am going to destroy you!”

Jimin tsks under his breath, “Why would you want to do that when you adore me so much?”

Jungkook scowls fiercely, “What are you on about? I couldn’t despise you more!”

Jimin’s lower lip pokes out in a slight faux pout, “Then let’s rectify that.” Holding up his still bleeding arm, he shakes loose the ruined fabric and holds it to Jungkook’s lips. “It’s only fair you have a taste too.”

Jungkook shakes his head, clamping his lips tight, trying but failing to pull away.”

“Drink,” Jimin demands, this time weaving power into his voice.

Jungkook stops resisting his lips, going lax, allowing Jimin’s arm to press into his mouth. With Jimin’s aid, Jungkook’s head tilts back and the blood drips past his lips and down his throat.

With a vindictive laugh, Jimin pulls back and the full effect of the thrall Jimin had unleashed on Jungkook withdraws. Jungkook senses his willpower return and lunges at Jimin, but for some reason, he stops himself.

Jimin just smirks as Jungkook’s expression morphs from hatred to want. “Wh-what did you do to me?” the hunter asks, his voice losing its fierce confidence.

Jimin shrugs nonchalantly, “In laymen’s terms, I’ve made you my bitch.”

🩸🩸🩸

Jungkook collapses back against the tile wall panting, his cock still fisted in his hand as the remnants of his pleasure wash down the shower drain. It’s been a week, and the lust burning through his veins has yet to wane. Over the past few days, he has fantasized about having Jimin in various positions on a multitude of surfaces in his home. Every time he thinks, he is done, another fantasy overtakes him.

He turns his back to the pounding water beating at him to pound his fist against the wall. “What did he do to me?!”

Jungkook feels nearly on the verge of tears, he is so frustrated. With a flick of his wrist, he shuts the shower off and climbs out. He grabs his towel, wrapping it around himself as he moves into his bedroom. The towel does nothing to mask the raging hard-on he has perpetually been left with since his encounter with Jimin.

It’s not just the physical symptoms of lust and longing he is being pestered by; Jungkook spends every waking moment thinking about the bloodsucker. He’s had enough.

He yanks a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized tee, a resolution settling in his mind. Either Jimin fixes this, or he dies.

🩸🩸🩸

Jungkook thinks he’s triumphed over Jimin as he manages to break into the hidden office on the second floor of the high-end club. After all, one of the security measures is a wall of one-way mirrored glass that overlooks the balcony dance floor.

With the snick of the latch releasing the sealed door, Jimin tsks loudly as Jungkook steps inside, “Allegedly, you are the premier vampire hunter in the region. Standards must be very low as I have waited for you to open that door for way too long. To say the least, I am not impressed; first, you fail to kill me, then you become entrapped, and now you can barely even break into a measly office?”

Jungkook’s breathing is slightly labored, not from exertion but from all the pent-up energy stored inside him. Under the layers of his leather jacket and matching harness, black sleeveless shirt, and well-fitted jeans, his skin is damp with perspiration and the need to be free of their confines as his cock strains against his zipper.

Jimin, meanwhile, exudes calm and looks completely unbothered as he pivots to lean back against the glass exterior wall that oversees the main dance floor. He’s donned another billowy ivory tunic that dips low, revealing a wide swath of his chest and the tightest pair of black leather pants that he has. The outfit is finished off with a pair of Chelsea boots with a subtle heel.

“What did you do to me?” Jungkook snaps.

Jimin’s brow furrows, “I thought we covered this?” Pushing off the wall, Jimin crosses the room to approach Jungook, lifting his chin with a finger, “You are now mine. People call it different things…Renfield, blood bunny, spawn, concubine….the list goes on and on, but basically, you are mine.”

Jungkook reels back, “I am not yours! I never will be so reverse this shit so we can move on.”

With a nonchalant shrug, Jimin utters, “No.”

Jungkook lunges, his hands flying up to go for Jimin’s throat–

“Uh-uh,” Jimin says, and the other man’s movements come to a halt. “I know you’re desperate to get your hands on me, but this is not the way.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush as he struggles against the invisible resistance holding him back. He tries but fails to ignore the persistent thought that he doesn't want to hurt Jimin. Jimin is his everything.

Jimin smirks as Jungkook’s hands fall limply to his sides, satisfied with the result. Jungkook whimpers as Jimin presses closer, “Please undo whatever you did. I’ll even beg if that is what you want.”

Jimin’s brow pushed at his hairline in surprise, not expecting to have broken Jungkook down so quickly. Settling back on his heels, he crosses his arms, “Well, this isn’t quite as fun when you’re not fighting me. I can be honest I never expected you to give up so soon.”

With a scowl, Jungkook’s head snaps up, “I’m not giving up. I just don’t want to play this game with you. I want to get on with my life without fantasizing about you every waking moment.”

“What kind of fantasies?”

“Not the point.”

“Kinda is if it’s got you like this after only a week.”

“Jimin!”

“Jungkook!”

With a heavy sigh, Jungkook pleads again, “Please, Jimin. Put an end to this.”

With a twist of his lips, Jimin turns on his heel, saunters over to the desk, and leans against it. “Now you are making me wish I could after you requested so nicely.”

Jungkook splutters, “You wish you could? You wish? Just do it.”

“Well, here’s the thing…it’s not that simple. There are very limited options here,” Jimin raises a hand and starts ticking them off, “I kill you, I make you a vampire, or you run far, far away from me. The lost option is iffy, though. Most end up just going crazy and then have to be dealt with.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, “Are you telling me you do this to a lot of innocent people?”

“No, no, no, no. This is a punishment and is only used as such. In fact, you are my first.”

“I’m obviously not going to let you kill me or make me a vampire. And I don’t run. So what now?”

“Tell me about your fantasies.”

Jungkook scoffs, “Why? So you can taunt me with them?”

“I was thinking the opposite. I want to help make them a reality. You know, turn some lemons into lemonade.”

Several beats pass, the two of them staring each other down. The silence finally breaks when Jungkook stomps across the room, grips the back of Jimin’s neck and slams their lips together.

The kiss is fierce and messy from the beginning, teeth clashing as tongues fight for dominance. Jimin’s fingers curl around the leather straps of the other man’s studded harness and yank him closer. Jungkooks fingers tangle in the shorter’s hair as he slips between Jimin’s legs and deepens the kiss.

Minutes pass like that, the room silent except for the labored breathing of the two men and the occasional creak of the desk as their hips rock together.

It’s Jimin who breaks the kiss first. Lips swollen and red, he breathes out, “This isn’t actually telling me anything.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?” Jungkook tosses back before slotting their lips together again. Jungkook steers the direction of the kiss as his hands wander down to slip under Jimin’s tunic to grip his hips and hoist him fully onto the desk. Jimin easily acquiesces, parting his legs further and wrapping them around Jungkook’s trim waist.

Jimin’s own hands slip between them and work to undo the fastenings on Jungkooks’s jeans, all the more difficult due to the tight stretch caused by his erection.

A choked sigh leaves Jungkook as one pressure is replaced with another, Jimin’s hand not even hesitating as he circles the younger’s cock and strokes. Jungkook yanks Jimin forward, attacking his lips as he works on the laces of the tight leather pants. He fumbles several times at the much-desired relief he is receiving, having to pause a couple of times, head to Jimin’s shoulder as he ruts into his hand.

Growling, Jungkook pulls Jimin off the desk and spins him around, “You have been driving me fucking crazy.” Finishing with the laces, he roughly yanks the leather pants down below the globes of Jimin’s round ass, leaving them around his knees, he dives in. Long fingers kneed the plump flesh before pulling it apart to reveal Jimin’s pink clenching hole.

Leading with a long, thick swipe of his tongue, Jungkook uses his mouth to bring Jimin metaphorically to his knees. The hunter rims the vampire within an inch of his undead life, using his tongue and lips to make Jimin a quivering mess on top of the desk.

“Oh, fuck, please…PLEASE! Stopstopstopstop,” Jimin rambles, his fingers numb from clenching the desk too tightly as Jungkook edges him repeatedly. His own cock flushed and dripping onto the wooden surface.

Jungkook nips at one of Jimin’s asscheeks, “Not so fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?” he taunts.

Jimin starts to rear up and push Jungkook away, but the younger slips one long finger into his dripping hole. Jimin moans loudly, dropping back onto the desk, and pushes back onto the other’s hand, demanding more. One quickly becomes two as Jungkook works Jimin open underneath him. The mess on the desk grows as Jungkook stops his teasing and attacks Jimin’s prostate directly.

Jungkook thought he had heard all the sounds Jimin could make, but he’s hearing a whole new level as the man comes undone on his fingers.

Startling both men, Jimin slams his fist on the desk, “Fuck me now!” Jungkook’s fingers pause briefly before resuming their scissoring as he digs into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a packet of lube. Jimin wails as the long, slender fingers that have been torturing him pull back.

He’s not left alone for long before Jungkook is thrusting in halfway with one single thrust. Jungkook tightens his grip on the vampire’s hips and pushes forward again, bottoming out inside of his tight hole. Pausing, Jungkook’s head falls forward, eyes closed, relishing the tight heat surrounding him.

Jimin rolls his hips, “Fuck me or get off of me.” Not much else is said as Jungkook draws back until just his tip remains inside and slams back in. With no inhibition, Jungkook fucks into Jimin, and all the other man can do is hold on as Jungkook uses him fast and hard.

The drag of Jungkook’s cock was rough inside Jimin, but the pleasure was soon becoming unsurmountable as their orgasms built. The desk's height provides the perfect angle to drive them both insane. Both men are incoherent as they rush to their own pleasurable ends, one coming right after the other as Jimin tightens around Jungkook’s pistoning cock.

Heavy breathing flows through the room as they come down from their highs. The sound is only broken up by the whimper Jimin releases as Jungkooks pulls out and the sounds of them silently cleaning up and redressing. A peace settles between them as they reciprocate, helping each other become presentable again.

Jungkook clears his throat as Jimin finishes lacing up his pants, “So what now?”

“What now is up to you. I gave you your options earlier, what are you going to choose?”

#bwhq ficstoric society #jimin x jungkook #vampires #vampire hunter #bts fanfic #bts smut #vampire jimin #vampire hunter jungkook

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hisunshiine · 8 months ago

Text

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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hisunshiine · 6 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 · 6 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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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months ago

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This is nothing like I thought it would be, so I guess I'll start there. I read the entire first part with a frown, wondering what the heck fallen angel Taehyung was doing?

The way he goes through the OC's things and deciphers her easily, because although she is a mess, she has been reduced to a single plan of self-destruction, is baffling. He can sense and perceive, and the puzzle gets put together throughout slowly; the equivalent of making a slice of cake last. For the reader, at least.

I didn't expect the exact turn the story would take for her soul to be delivered, and the warnings caught me a bit by surprise. I feel like there's a story inside a story, and they happen to merge beautifully (much to Taehyung's delight). It's fulfilling when the OC changes paths, even if it's gut-wrenching (fortunately, OC covers her eyes at about the same time I also wanted it to stop, so good thing), and the hope and freedom gained from it, both scary and liberating, come across so well.

As usual, the warning tags absolutely apply, and if I laughed in the beginning, by the end I found myself scared of what would happen when the shoe dropped - damnation, and all that.

Leave it to Leah to subvert even that 😁💜

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

#kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung imagines #bts taehyung #taehyung fluff #fallenangeltaehyung #bts angst #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven #bts smut #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #bwhq ficstoric society

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moonleeai · 8 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 · 2 months 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 · 5 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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colormepurplex2 · 4 months ago

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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.

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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.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

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

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

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.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

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.

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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.”

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