#idol!bts x best friend reader

[trivia-yandere]

Hi Hello

I was wondering if you could do the Idol!au version of "best friends!"? I LOVED this I would like to see from the perspective where Jungkook(or any of the other boys) is an idol and has a friend wanting to lose his virginity to an idol close to him, you know?

hello! yes I can! i like the concept, thank you for sending a request and being patient 💜some things have been changed, but overall it's similar

seonbaenim!

your group decides they want to shed the “good girl” image for your next comeback & you confide in your seonbae, Jungkook, in helping you do so. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29

word count: 10.347

warning: alcohol intake, kissing, coercion, slight intoxication, smut, dub-con, manipulation, jealous/possessive behavior, naive reader, praising, dirty talking, unsolicited touching/groping, masturbating, oral sex, loss of virginity, fingering, licking, nipple sucking, unprotected sex, squirting,

non-idol version

“Thank you, seonbaenim. For offering to help me.” you bow your head to Jungkook, hands clenching with nervousness. “It’s an honor having someone like you helping me with my comeback.”

Jungkook offers a soft grin, the piercing on his lip glistening underneath the studio lights. “No need to thank me, Y/N. You don’t have to be formal, either. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You swallow and nod your head. You don’t want to be rude - Jungkook has been an idol for years, far before your debut, and you held great respect and admiration for him. 

“Yes, we are friends.” you assure Jungkook - it was one of the reasons he insisted on helping you. 

You met Jungkook two years prior, him complimenting you once your group was done performing. He was someone you’d go to for advice when needed. He would show you songs he was working on, even if they were unreleased and you’d do the same.

Now, Jungkook had offered to help you with your comeback - he had listened to you vent to him about your struggles countless times. 

“So, let’s go talk about this comeback.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “You told me you were having a hard time?”

You nod. 

“What’s the aesthetic your group is looking for?”

You’re growing hot underneath Jungkook’s gaze.

“A more…mature approach.” you murmur, twiddling your fingers. “Break away from the innocent good girl look we’ve had.”

Jungkook nods and hums. “So, sexy.” he snorts when your eyes grow wide. “Your group is having a sexy type comeback. That’s good.” he nods his head. “Good girls gone bad? Girls gone wild?”

Jungkook laughs at the horrified look on your face.

“Relax, Y/N. I’m just teasing.” Jungkook assures. “What are you having a hard time with exactly?”

You inhale deeply then exhale. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself more than you already were, but Jungkook was here now willing to help you and this isn’t something you can ruin.

“I’m not sexy.” you respond. “My sisters are. They can channel it and I just can’t.”

Jungkook’s taken aback by your words. So you were feeling insecure about your lack of sex appeal. It’s then that Jungkook takes over your figure, not caring if you noticed or not. 

“You want my help with your sex appeal?”

Hearing it said like that makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. You hide your face with your hands, completely mortified. 

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m sure you have amazing sex appeal-”

“Please stop.” you quip - you’d rather die than for him to continue to pity you. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

The seriousness in Jungkook’s tone has you complying. 

“Anyone can be sexy.” You want to say that it was easy for him to say. For Jungkook, it was like a switch. You’ve watched the man on stage become an entirely different person than the sweet man who you’ve become close with. “You just need to bring it out.”

You nod your head, unsure of how to bring another side of you out.

“Your sister’s seem to be naturals.” Jungkook notes. “Why do you think it’s difficult for you?”

You want to scoff. You shared the group with your sisters, both older than you. Sexy did appear to come natural for them. You were often left in their shadow and was nothing but their younger, shy sister. In interviews, you’d allow them to speak for you often, not wanting to make a fool of yourself if or when you said the wrong thing.

Jungkook waits for a response. He’s sure he understands. He was an observant man, after all. He’s watched the way you’ve grown in the last couple years, watching you on stage he was sure you were often in your own head and afraid of messing up. Your mistakes were light and easy to fix, but that didn’t mean you weren’t often criticized for it. He’s watched the group's music videos and it was then did you shine - but it was a music video, meaning you were also edited that way.

“Y/N?”

You blink. You swallow the lump in your throat and before you can apologize, Jungkook speaks once more. 

“Are you a virgin?”

Jungkook is positive he knows the answer already, but he wants to hear you say it. There had to be a deeper reason as to why you were struggling with this when your sisters weren’t. It could be because they were older, yes, and had more experience - but you were an adult, too. 

Jungkook gets his answer when you visibly stiffen. He licks his lips and offers you a smile. 

“Maybe that’s why you’re having a difficult time in appearing sexy. We’re friends, right?” Jungkook scoots his chair closer to you. “What have you ever done with a man?”

You feel a shudder run up your spine at his words. You’re unsure how to respond, far too humiliated to be speaking with your seonbae about your sex life - or lack of.

“Not much.” you murmur, a slight squeak in your voice. 

“Have you ever touched a man?” Jungkook doesn’t want to push you over the edge, he has eyes. He notices the way your foot is slightly shaking with nerves. However, there’s something inside of him - a new interest, maybe? - that wants to know. “Has a man ever touched you?”

You shake your head, eyes glancing away from Jungkook’s intense one. He was going to think you were pathetic, probably laugh in your face about your lack of experience. 

“That’s good.” Jungkook says, even surprised with the tone in his own voice. Your eyes snap to him, wide and shocked. He lightly chuckles at your reaction. “You can learn, Y/N. But no one can ever make you feel sexy until you feel it within yourself.”

Jungkook leans back into the chair. His eyes roam around your figure. You’re dressed comfortably, but he knows the figure you have beneath it. Again, he’s watched you on stage in the outfits the stylist put you in. You had whatever it took to be sexy - it was your own self holding you back. 

“How about we discuss this over dinner. I’m starving and we’ve been at this for hours now. You have to be hungry, too.” Jungkook gives you an assuring smile - a smile that tells you that this is safe. To trust him - and you did.

You’ve never been to Jungkook’s home before, and when he suggested dinner you thought it would be some form of takeout at the studio. “I have food that we can heat up at my house.” Jungkook had told you, and now here you sat, legs crossed as the both of you enjoyed the ramen he had prepared.

“So, what do you think you need to do to feel sexy?” Jungkook asks. He pours the wine into both glasses, lightly pushing yours towards you. 

You smell the wine before tasting it. It’s a bit strong, but you don’t want to appear rude and decline it. “Maybe, look the part?” you respond after a few moments. 

Jungkook nods. He changes the subject, asking then about how you were adjusting to being an idol - even if it has been over two years. With each passing conversation, he’s assured to refill each of your wine glasses until he notices the slight glossy look in your eyes.

“Look.” Jungkook speaks, facing you towards the tall mirror on his wall. He’s directly behind you, hands on your shoulders. “Your group has potential, Y/N. I know this comeback would be like no other.” Jungkook is sure of himself, as well, because this time you had him helping you. “This time, you’ll be the star. Not your sisters.”

You laugh with a shake of your head. You felt more comfortable and maybe that was the wine’s doing. Your jacket had been left somewhere in Jungkook’s living room, and now you’re left in a short sleeved shirt. 

“Why are you laughing? You don’t believe me?” Jungkook squeezes your shoulders gently. “Follow me.”

Jungkook turns away from you face and you stumble just to follow him. He takes you down a long hallway until he stops in front of a door. “This is my room.” he says as he opens the door to it. It’s simple, nothing too extravagant or over the top like you assume it would be for an idol with money like him. “Have you taken your concept photos yet?”

You shake your head. “It’ll be tomorrow, actually.” you respond.

“Good.” Jungkook murmurs. “Sit down on my bed.”

You do as you’re told. It feels weird being in his bedroom, but you don’t allow yourself to overthink. Jungkook goes to his closet for a moment and returns with a camera in hand. He hands you the camera after turning it on. 

“I’ll have you take pictures of me first.” Jungkook says. “Just so you can see what I do and replicate it, okay?”

You nod your head. Your palms are sweaty and you’re frightened more than you were going to somehow drop and break such an expensive camera into pieces.

Nonetheless, you  do as Jungkook tells you. You snap the pictures, all of which he nails. With each picture, he explains what you’re expected to do; “You have to look directly into the camera, don’t shy away.” , “Don’t be afraid to show some skin, either. You aren’t a child.” 

“Ready?” Jungkook asks once the both of you had gone over the pictures you’ve taken.

Your mind swirls but you can't back down now. “Ready.” you nod.

Jungkook snaps a few pictures. You’re stiff, posing as if you’ve never been photographed before, but that was your nerves talking to you.

“Do you want this, Y/N?” Jungkook asks after around 10 minutes. Somehow he managed to pour even more wine, this time you’re gulping it down without a care. You need your nerves to be calmed. “You have to show me you’re serious. You don’t want to live in your sister's shadows forever, right?”

You take a deep breath and shake your head. You didn’t want to be known as the shy one - the one that no one bothered to look at. You couldn’t waste any of Jungkook’s time - he didn’t have to help you, but he was. 

Jungkook watches through the lens of the camera the way it happened - the switch that turns on and had you changed from the shy girl you were, to the girl he knew you could be. It started with your eyes - the way you looked right at him through the lens, not faltering once. Your eyes - sharp, seductive and fierce.

Jungkook licks his lips, lowering his camera to look directly at you. He takes a few steps closer to your position onto his bed, dropping his camera not far from you. On the ground sat the half empty wine bottle and your glass. He proceeds to pour some more in and take a few sips.

“More wine?” Jungkook asks cooly with a raised brow. 

You nod your head without thinking, reaching your hand out to grab the glass. Jungkook dodges your attempts and instead, raises the glass above your head. “Come here, Y/N.”

You do as you’re told. Your mind is attempting to focus on everything right now, but you were already tipsy. You rarely drink - especially wine.You always assumed that it was an exaggeration when people said they can get drunk from wine - but with the way you are now, you know it's anything but an exaggeration. 

You’re at the edge of Jungkook’s bed now, meeting him where he wants you at. Your knees are pressed firmly into the mattress, hands placed neatly in your lap. Jungkook thinks you appear cute; obedient.

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your lips. You feel hot at his actions, your mind hazy. “Put your head back.” Jungkook murmurs his command and again, you comply. Your neck is exposed to him. It’s bare from any blemishes and Jungkook thinks how you’d look with marks on you - purplish bruises and teeth marks, maybe even prints from his own hands around your neck.

“Open your mouth.” Jungkook says breathily. 

You gulp, but comply. You grunt when Jungkook's thumb dips inside of your mouth and presses it onto your tongue, slightly bringing it out. Then, he removes his tongue when he has you where he wants to. Your eyes watch as Jungkook pours the wine into your mouth slowly, the wine sliding onto your tongue and down your throat ever so slowly. Jungkook watches intently when a bit of the wine falls from the corner of your mouth and trails your neck just as slowly. 

You swallow the wine once Jungkook is done, your tongue licking the corner of your mouth and exhaling.

Jungkook drops the wine glass onto the floor by the bed where it was prior. He leans down close to your face, his breath tickling your skin. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

You nod slowly. It was only a peck - a kiss from a classmate - and that was the last kiss you’ve had. You were an idol now and couldn’t focus on dating.

“I see.” Jungkook hums, his lips pouting slightly. “So I suppose you don’t want to kiss me then.”

You released a low gasp. You blink a few times, unsure of what’s going on. You couldn’t have been this drunk, surely.

“Seonbaenim…” you murmur.

“I don’t think you want it enough, Y/N.” Jungkook tells you. He’s so close and your eyes have a difficult time focusing on him. “I’m trying to make you the true star I know you can be.”

“I do.” you exclaim, your hands clenching into your lap. You don’t want to upset him - to make Jungkook feel as if you were taking his assistance for granted.

Jungkook leans away from you and takes back his camera. He nods at you. “Prove it to me.” is all he says.

You glance at the camera in his hands and then up at him. He raises the camera once more, ready to begin snapping pictures. 

Maybe it was the wine getting to you. You didn’t have a lot of thoughts screaming at you to stop you from removing your shirt. You throw it aside, your eyes staring at the lens to reclaim the prior sex appeal. 

Jungkook doesn’t notice his breathing increase - not until you go to remove your leggings. It wasn’t as if you wore lingerie - Jungkook understood that this isn’t what you were expecting to do. But your appearance is captivating enough, a lacy bra with matching panties, both black. 

You do countless poses and Jungkook allows you, not once speaking. Your first pose was pushing your knees far apart and pushing your chest out. Your hands move slowly up your chest, a slight tilt to your head.

Jungkook doesn’t realize how close he’s gotten to you until his knees hit the mattress. Now, you’re on your back, slightly arching. Your eyes are on the camera and your breast is pushed towards the ceiling. You appear to be teasing him, Jungkook thinks, the way your fingers hook beneath your bra strap teasingly, as if you were daring to push them down.

“Seonbaenim…?” you murmur. You haven’t heard the camera shutter for the last few minutes. “Did I do good?”

Jungkook slowly smiles and nods his head. He presses a knee against the mattress, allowing himself to come closer to you. “You’re a good girl, Y/N.” he tells you, and your heart swells at the compliment. “Come here.”

You lift from the mattress as if in a trance. Jungkook lifts your chin with his index finger, his dark eyes staring into your own. 

“Tomorrow, we’re going to try the song again, okay?”

“Yes.” you nod.

“For now…” Jungkook leans a little closer, a few inches away. “...kiss me.”

You gulp. Opening your mouth to respond.

“It wasn’t up for debate, Y/N.” Jungkook interrupts before you can speak. “I need to know you’re serious about this. I won’t have you wasting my time.”

Your eyes widen and without thinking, you kiss Jungkook. Jungkook deepens the kiss, wanting nothing more than to hold you close to him. The thought of flipping you over runs through his mind, to grind into you until you’re begging him for more, but Jungkook refrains from doing son.

“I’m going to make you a star, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks once the kiss ends. “This comeback will be your moment. I’ll be sure of it.”

There’s something sinister about the way you allow Jaehyun to touch your head, Jungkook thinks. He pats it playfully, gently rubbing it. There’s a smile on his own lips as he greets you with a warm welcome.

What made it even more sinister to Jungkook was the way you appeared. You were smitten by his older friend. If this was a show, your eyes would’ve turned to the shape of hearts and a pink glow wouldn’t shine throughout you.

Jungkook leans back into his seat, tongue in cheek. With a tilt of his head, Jungkook has had enough - especially when you giggle at something Jaehyun has said.

“I don’t have all day.”

Your head snaps to Jungkook and quickly you bow and apologize. As you were arriving, Jaehyun was leaving, having visited Jungkook at the studio for a bit. He and you spoke, him giving you a greeting as you arrived.

Jaehyung hums as you sit besides Jungkook, the man's stare hard as you do so. Judging by your appearance, you were cowering besides the man.

“I’ll see you later, hyung.” Jungkook says to Jaehyun, dismissing his friend. “We have work to do.”

Jaehyun nods, his eyes flickering to you for a moment. He leaves without another word, the door shutting behind him quietly. 

“Do you take me for a joke, Y/N?”

Jungkook’s tone is vicious. It causes you to flinch at the sudden change in atmosphere. 

“Seonbae-”

“Do you want to fuck him?” questions Jungkook, his voice changing to a softer tone. You swallow, eyes wide. “You want to lose your virginity to him? After I’m putting in the work to make you shine?”

“Seonbaenim, I don’t understand-”

“No, you don’t.” Jungkook snickers. “Don’t waste my time, Y/N. I’m the one that’s helping your comeback. Not anyone else.”

You nod your head, eyes glancing away from Jungkook. He looks visibly upset, as if he was scolding a disobedient child. 

Jungkook sighs. “Look at me.” he tells you mellowly. His hand places itself on your own and gently squeezes. “I’m sorry for being so harsh on you, Y/N. You know I believe in you and your talent, right?”

You nod, not really sure if he did or not - but you didn’t want to disagree with him.

“I’d hate anyone to take advantage of you, Y/N. I know how men are. Especially in this industry. You’re a sweet girl.” his thumb rubs against your knuckles. “You have a certain look on you, you know?”

“What do you mean?” you question. Your eyes finally meet him once more. “Is that a bad thing?” you were beginning to feel self-conscious.

“No, of course not. You’re my good girl.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, lips forming into a warm smile. There’s something bubbling inside you at Jungkook words. “You have an innocent aura surrounding you. People would want to take advantage of that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I see.” you murmur, slowing nodding. “Thank you, seonbaenim.”

“Jungkook.” Jungkook corrects. “You don’t have to be formal with me. We’re friends.”

You smile and Jungkook then releases your hand. “Okay. I’ve listened to your sister's part of the song and they’re good.”

You bite your lip. 

“That doesn’t mean yours isn’t good. It is. But…” Jungkook trails off. “I think you should give me more passion. Be more…sensual.”

“I-I can do that.” you shake your head to agree with him. 

“Okay.” says Jungkook. He points his head to the side. “You wanna record it?”

“Yes.” you inhale and exhale a few times as you enter the small room, the microphone placed in the middle of the room. You grasp the headphones and place it over your head. 

Jungkook’s eyes connected with yours as he played the instrumental. Your voice is good - you’re a great singer. But you needed to be more than a great singer to outshine your sisters. Initially, he wasn’t here to help you outshine them - but he promised you that you’d be a star - and Jungkook never went back on his promises. 

Jungkook turns the music off with a click. “More passion.” he says. “Again.”

Your voice hits his ears once more as he plays the instrumental. It’s melodic and he’s positive he can hear it again and again and again.

“Y/N.” Jungkook turns off the music once more. You visibly stiffen. Jungkook was a perfectionist naturally and he didn’t care how long it took for you to get it right - he would assure you did. “Sing to me. Sing as if I’m in there with you and be my good girl, okay?” Jungkook advised with a sigh. “I need to hear the sensuous tone in your voice.”

“Yes.” you murmur.

Once more, Jungkook starts the music. You close your eyes this time. Jungkook’s eyes made you nervous - they were piercing right through you. 

You began to sing, your mind traveling to the night in Jungkook’s bedroom - a night you never brought up to anyone, not even him. It was a night you wish to forget - the way you’ve acted towards him could be seen as disrespectful, even if he didn’t appear distraught by your action.

Your eyes snap open when you feel hands on your shoulders. The instrumental doesn’t stop, and neither do you. Jungkook is directly in front of you, hands on your shoulders. Those same piercing eyes are watching you, as if waiting for you to mess up.

You continue to sing just as Jungkook wants you to. He travels behind you, so close that there’s almost a pause in your singing - but you don’t stop. The hands on your shoulders begin to roll down until they’re cupping your waist. 

There’s a slight moan in the words you sing, and it’s exactly what Jungkook wants. He doesn’t stop there. His lips place themselves on your neck, his hands pressing you against him firmly. You continue to sing and Jungkook can see you through the mirror on the far right of the wall. Your eyes are closed and gently your body relaxes in his embrace.

The song is ending, Jungkook notes, and it’s the ending that he needs you to be the most sensual. Your skin is smooth beneath his palm. It works its way up your shirt and onto your covered breast. He grips it in the palm of his hands, the melodic moan music to his ears.

“Perfect.” Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck as you finish, your breathing heavy. He releases your breast and takes a step away from you. “You did amazing, my good girl.”

“Are you fucking him?”

You nearly choke on your water when the words hit your ears. You manage to swallow it somehow and your eyes turn to your manager. She’s leaning against the nearest wall from you, her glasses tilted down on her nose.

The room is silent, the conversation your sisters held with one another falls flat as their eyes cast between you and the manager.

“Why do you assume that?” your eldest sister says once you don’t respond, a horrified look upon your face.

“Jeon Jungkook has promoted this song countless times on all platforms.” your manager steps forward as she speaks. “He made a dance challenge to the song that now has thousands of people following suit. He speaks fondly of you and just you, Y/N. So please answer the question.”

Your group's comeback has officially begun, the song you had once struggled with has been released along with a music video. It’s only been a month since Jungkook and you recorded the song in the studio, and a week since the release of the song - but it was an instant hit. You recall watching the views go higher and higher alongside your sisters as did the following count on the social media platforms you two shared. 

Jungkook kept his promise on promoting not only the song, but you, as well. In interviews he spoke of how hardworking you were and how the song was one of his favorites, he participated in dancing to the song to promote it even further - you were becoming the star he said you would be. Now, your group became someone people wanted to follow and interview - you at the front of it all.

“They’re just friends.” your elder sister scoffs. “It’s nothing to look deeper into.”

Your eldest sister nods her head in agreement.

Your manager wasn’t convinced in the slightest. “Whatever you’re doing with Jeon Jungkook…” your manager eyes you for a moment, almost as if she didn’t believe a word your sisters said. “...Keep doing it. The song is doing amazing and we have people lining up for interviews.”

Your eldest sister is taken aback by the sudden change in tone. “You make it seem like Y/N is being friends with Jeon-ssi for fame.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You were becoming humid with the topic being about you.

“Jeon Jungkook is a big name in the industry, hell, globally.” your manager flips her glasses onto the bride of her nose. “Having a co-sign from him is a big deal. Don’t mess it up, Y/N.”

Your manager doesn’t wait for whatever response you or your sisters would give. She strolls out of the room. You’re left with your sisters, and now they fully turn to you. 

“What was that about?” your eldest sister asks. “You’re just friends with him right?”

“Of course.” you murmur, unable to look her in the eye. “He’s helped me so much.”

You know when your sisters want to say something - anything - but hold back. It’s in their eyes. They want to question you more about Jungkook and what your manager knows, but they don’t. 

“Okay.” your eldest sister nods. 

“We should probably get some rest. We have a hectic day tomorrow with-”

You lift from your seat and bow. “I’ll be going to my room.” you murmur.

You feel their eyes upon you, but you don’t bother to wait. Tomorrow was a big day and a hectic schedule neither of you were accustomed to. You didn’t take Jungkook’s promise that seriously - but it was as though he opened doors you never knew were possible.

You were meaning to meet with Jungkook tonight. His own schedule had gotten busier within the last month, and he had invited you over tonight of all nights for a celebration of sorts. “Soon, you’ll be on top.” Jungkook told you over the phone. “And maybe you can even make your solo debut.”

You were outside his home within a half an hour, pressing in the passcode he gave you. His home is quiet as you enter and you wonder what he was wanting to do tonight. You remove your shoes at the door and step deeper into his home, removing your jacket and placing it on a chair where you saw one of his own.

You hear light music coming from down the hall - his bedroom. You venture closer to the room, noticing the door slightly ajar. You peek your head through to greet Jungkook, after all he was expecting you.

You freeze in your tracks, your eyes slowly growing wider.

Jungkook sits at the edge of his bed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if you didn’t catch him masturbating - your eyes focusing on the way his right hand engulfs his cock entirely, jacking himself with such need. You can now hear that he’s moaning through the music, being closer than you were from down the hall. His eyes are closed and his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Y/N…”

Your breathing stilled at the sound of your name. Did he know you were there, watching like some type of creep?

“Seonbaenim…?” you say from behind the cracked door, and at the sound of your meek voice, Jungkook’s eyes snap open. You’re taken aback by the look in his dark eyes, and in that moment you realize that he didn’t know you were there, but instead had moaned your name.

Your feet react before your mind does. You take a few steps back until you hit the wall, startled to be caught watching him. You begin to sprint down the hall and towards the living area, falling to the nearest seat.

You hear the music stop and footsteps sounding, coming closer to you with each passing step.

“Y/N-”

“I’m so sorry, seonbaenim!” you cry, your eyes not looking his way. You’re humiliated and even more disrespectful for walking freely through his home. 

“Y/N-”

“I should have told you I was coming before I did-

“Y/N!” Jungkook hisses, his voice echoing off the walls of his home. You’re immediately silent, heart racing. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” he suddenly murmurs, lowering his tone to not further startle you. You feel his presence in front of you, but you’re far too humiliated to look at him. “Look at me.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe when you do. Jungkook’s lips turn to a small smile. “That’s my good girl.” he tells you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You don’t respond, far too consumed with your thoughts to do so.

“Hey,” Jungkook squats down to face you fully. “congratulations on the success of your song. It’s charting higher than songs from veteran groups.”

“Thank you, seon-” you stop yourself. “Jungkook.” you correct, understanding that he prefers you to call him by his name. 

“My good girl…my name always sounds sweet when you say it.” Jungkook offers a hand, waiting for you to take it. When you do hesitantly, he gets from his squatting position and lightly tugs you. “Come, I want to show you something.”

There’s an anxious feeling running through you when you’re led down the hall once more and back to Jungkook’s room. The lights are dimmer this time as you and he enter. He closes the door behind him and releases your hand. 

“I want to show you these.” Jungkook steps away from you and towards a bedside table. It’s a black folder that he opens and shows you.

Your hands take the folder, your eyes scanning over the pictures displayed inside of it.

It’s you.

It’s the same pictures Jungkook had taken a month prior, each picture becoming more vulgar as you skim through. Your hands are trembling, unsure of how you truly feel about seeing the pictures physically in the palm of your hands.

“Jungkook…”

Jungkook eyes your reaction. “Yes?”

You aren’t sure what you want to ask him. Thousands of questions run through your mind - why did he print the pictures out? Why does he want to show you? Has he shown anyone these pictures?

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snap up at him, your trembling hands coming to a halt. 

“You’ve done good.” says Jungkook. “Your concept photos came out amazing and it’s because of these.” he points to the folder in your hands. “Your group is doing amazing because of you.”

“You…think so?” you question in awe. Of course, the photos you’ve taken weren’t the same as these. The eyes you were giving the camera - or Jungkook - were those you’d see women give to men in the bedroom, not a photographer. You were nearly naked and these photos were similar to something from a porn magazine.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s hands are swift. He touches both sides of your face. “Look how beautiful you look in these. The song is charting now because of how beautiful you sounded.”

Jungkook’s compliment has your heart swelling. You close the folder and nod your head, a small smile forming onto your lips.

“My good girl.” murmurs Jungkook, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. “You want this, right?”

Jungkook’s words have a deeper meaning - one you weren’t sure about fully. Did you want this as in the fame that was quickly sneaking up on you and your group - the stardom he promised you? Or did you want something more that had to do with him personally?

“I want to help you, Y/N. I want to make you bigger than what you are now.”

“Bigger?”

“Bigger.” Jungkook nods. “I want you to be like us. We’ve sold out tours and traveled all over the world.”

You laugh at his words. It’s kind for Jungkook to want more for you, but even you know that’s not realistic. “I don’t think we can be as big as…BTS. Or you alone.”

Jungkook hums. “With you talking down about yourself, of course not.” Jungkook says. “I promised you that you’d be a star, right?”

“Yes.”

“You believe in me, right?” Jungkook drops his left hand from your face so that he can grasp the folder. He places it on his bed before turning back to you. 

“Of course I do.”

“You trust me?” Jungkook questions. “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I do trust you.”

Jungkook simpers. He lifts your chin, his eyes on your lips.

“How much do you trust me?”

You swallow.

 Your manager’s words come to your mind - whatever you were doing with Jungkook, to continue it. You trusted Jungkook a lot - he’s helped you so much without asking for anything in return. It was because of him that your song was charting and the sudden interest of people streaming, buying and participating in challenges.

“With everything.” you respond to Jungkook truthfully.

“Everything?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “Even with your body?”

“Keep doing it.” your manager's words replay over and over in your head. 

“You’re shying away.” Jungkook notes. Maybe he was too forward with you, but he couldn’t allow himself to care. He’s already been caught by you masturbating to just the thought of you. “I can’t help you if you don’t allow me to.”

You inhale deep, your eyes not leaving his. 

“You aren’t comfortable with me.”

“I am-”

“You aren’t.” Jungkook intercepts. “Are you comfortable giving yourself to Jaehyun?”

Your eyebrows knit together at Jungkook's words.

Jaehyun?

You shake your head.

“I saw the way you were looking at him.” Jungkook removes his hand from your chin and takes a step back. “You had heart eyes for him. While I sat there and helped you achieve success…you still haven’t given me those eyes.”

Jungkook turns away from you just as he says those words. You shake your head, reaching out for the man.

“I-I don’t want Jaehyun-ssi!” you exclaim. Your anxiety was peaking, fear running through you. You didn’t want to upset Jungkook or make him think you didn’t appreciate all the help he’s given you. “I’m sorry, seonbaenim.” your hand touches his bicep.

Jungkook turns back to you. Your eyes are low, but he can see the seriousness in them - you were apologetic. 

“I never…done anything with a man before.” you murmur, hot feeling all over. “I want to…” your heart is racing with what to say. “Keep doing it…keep doing it…” your manager’s words replay in your mind. “...I want to please you, seonbaenim. I want to be good for you, I just don’t know how.”

Jungkook is stunned for a moment, his eyes watching you intently. Then, there’s a smirk forming onto his lips.

Now, Jungkook had you where he wanted you - where you needed to be.

“You know you’re my good girl, Y/N.” Jungkook takes both of your hands in his and steps backwards towards his bed. He sits down and tugs for you to do the same - on top of him. “My good girl. Once I do this with you, you can’t do it with someone else.”

Jungkook’s hands are upon you, holding you close.

“I’m a man and I know how men are.” Jungkook murmurs, his lips close to your jawline. “They will use you until you have nothing left to give. They will take you to feed their own satisfaction and leave you.”

You release a gasp.

“I won’t do that to you, my good girl.” Jungkook’s hands dip beneath your shirt to feel your smooth skin. “You can always trust me. I’ll treat you right. I want more from you, unlike any other man.”

Jungkook wants to say especially Jaehyun - but he doesn’t want to come off as jealous. Jaehyun is his friend and understands that he holds no feelings or attraction towards you, he was just being friendly. However, he was also a man and in Jungkook’s eyes, any man can and will be competition.

Jungkook’ s lips are upon your skin, kissing your jawline. 

“Promise me, Y/N. That you’ll always be mine.”

Maybe it was selfish for Jungkook to ask from you, but he doesn’t care. He’s invested in you free of charge - he’s only asked for one thing. To have you fully for himself, all of you. He wants your love and devotion, your respect.

Your virginity. 

Jungkook wanted all of you. He wanted to be the first person who made you cum. He wanted to show you how pleasurable sex could be with the right person - him - and show you what he liked.

It’s what Jungkook deserves - he was going to make you a star. Your sisters could not compare to you and he would assure that you had it all. Soon, you’ll have brand deals and be an ambassador of whatever brand you desire - as long as you remain his.

“I promise.” you murmur, and it’s then that Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He kisses along your neck hungrily, as if he was a dog waiting to pounce at his favorite treat. 

You’re unsure what to do but allow Jungkook to take the lead. His hands roam your body, squeezing and grabbing everything he could with just two palms.

“You said you want to be good for me, right?” Jungkook says against your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin.

You nod, your body flushed with heat.

Jungkook leans back, his dark eyes on your face. “My pretty good girl.” he murmurs, the back of his hand stroking your chin. “I want you to strip for me like you did before.”

Jungkook’s eyes upon you cause you to freeze up. The horrified look on your face has Jungkook chuckling. “Don’t be shy, Y/N. You’ll have to learn to do this without any liquid courage.”

“Yes.” you murmur with a nod.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook breaths. 

Just Jungkook.

You take a deep breath, and before you can think too much into the fact that it was Jungkook, you begin to lift your shirt over your head. You discard it aside with a bite of your lip.

“I like black on your skin.” Jungkook compliments, touching up the fabric holding your breast together perfectly. 

“Thank you.” you respond cutely, voice low and meek. You remove yourself from Jungkook’s lap to remove your pants. They fall to the floor swiftly and you kick your feet to get out of it fully. 

Jungkook licks his lip before biting it. There’s an obvious tent in his sweats just at the sight of you. He thinks about what you’d look like in countless lingerie - high stockings that highline your legs, lacy material that teases him just in the right way. His mouth salivates at the endless possibilities.

It’s just Jungkook, you tell yourself. It’s just Jungkook - the same man who’s been so kind to you. Who’s helped you with your comeback, given you advice and assisted in gaining confidence. You don’t need to be self-conscious - even you can see how excited he was - but there was more than just self-confidence. You weren’t as experienced as you (assumed?) he was.

But, with Jungkook’s words flowing through your mind mixed with your managers, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You had to engage with him, you think.

“Seonbae…Jungkook…?”

Jungkook’s alert at the sound of his name. “Yes, baby?” he says without thinking, the amount of pet names he can call you is as endless as the amount of lingerie he wants to see you in. 

You swallow and turn away from him. “Can you help me take it off?”

Jungkook groaned and far too quickly did he stand on his feet to meet you. His hands are warm against your skin as he unclasps the bra. His hand slides down your bare spine, shuddering at how soft your skin is. Your bra falls next to your feet and slowly you turn around.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook’s words repeat in your mind. 

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook hums. “Kiss me.”

You do, your hands falling onto Jungkook’s chest as your lips touch his. 

Jungkook deepens the kiss with a moan. Having you nearly naked before him excites him like no other and he has to remember that this was your first time. He couldn’t be too rough or possessive with you (yet) like he wants to.

You yelp, eyes wide when you’re suddenly thrusted on the soft mattress. 

“You’ve never done anything with a man, right?” Jungkook’s fingers fall at your panties, touching the material between his fingertips. 

You nod.

“What have you ever thought about doing with…” Jungkook doesn’t say ‘a man’ because he doesn’t want to think of you having fantasies with someone that wasn’t him. “...me?”

Jungkook begins to pull at your panties, goosebumps running through his skin. 

You lift yourself from the bed so he can remove your panties. You’ve never thought about doing anything like this with Jungkook - not until the day in the studio. Having his hands on you, feeling his breath upon your skin - you felt ashamed of the perverted thoughts.

But now you don't need to feel ashamed. Jungkook wanted you - he wasn’t just a superior to you now. Soon he’d be the man you’d have sex with - and by your promise, the only man.

“Kissing you.” you respond, clenching your legs together.

“Done that.” Jungkook mumbles. “What did I say about being shy with me, Y/N?”

You loosen your grip on your thighs, allowing Jungkook to open your legs. He’s staring right at you, eyes never blinking. Your mind is screaming at you all at once - 2 minutes of not blinking and you want to tear yourself away from his firm grip.

“Jungkook.” 

Jungkook blinks, the moisture regaining back into his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook swallows. “I want you to sit on my face.” You cough, unsure if you heard Jungkook correctly. “What?”

“I want you to sit on my face.” Jungkook states matter-of-factly. “Your pussy’s very pretty-”

“Please stop.” you look up at the ceiling with a horrified groan. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” Jungkook lowers himself between your legs.  He sends a kiss on your inner thigh. “You’re going to be my girl, Y/N. You can’t close yourself off every time I give you a little compliment.” Jungkook kisses your thigh again, inching closer to your clit.

“I know…” you murmur. “You don’t have to be so…dirty about it.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Dirty?” he shakes his head. “Dirty is telling you I want you to ride my face until you cum a good three times before I fuck you. But I’m not saying that, aren’t I?” Jungkook sends a quick peck against your clit, assuring to hold your thighs so you don’t close them on his head - but then again, he wouldn’t be opposed to that. 

You’re too stunned to speak, and Jungkook furrows a brow. “So?”

You swallow. “I…I’m supposed to be learning how to pleasure you.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “You think you can pleasure me without shying away?”

No, but you nod your head regardless. You were going to have to see Jungkook naked regardless - better now than later.

“Hmm.” Jungkook hums. His cock was begging to be released now. He goes to take off his shirt, lifting to his feet to do the same to his sweats.

 Your eyes try not to stare, but it’s difficult not to. You were beginning to realize why Jungkook was so confident - and just why he was so loved outside of his talents. 

Jungkook gets onto the bed, his back against the tall headboard. Your eyes glance at his cock then back up at him to find that he’s already looking at you. Quickly, you widen your eyes and turn away.

“Come here, pretty girl.” Jungkook laughs. 

You do so hesitantly. You’re having a hard time not looking at it - it’s erect and basically staring at you. It doesn’t help that you find it pretty - could dicks be pretty? He was cleanly groomed, veins wrapping around the length of it and the tip reminded you of a lollipop - red and suckable.

You mentally gasp at your mind at the moment.

“I’ll let you take the lead.” Jungkook says when you’re facing him, knees firmly against his bed. “I can talk you through it.”

You nod, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Wrap your hands around it.”

Your palms are sweaty, but you do as Jungkook insists. 

“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook widens his legs to get comfortable. “Good girl…now just stroke it up and down.”

You appear fascinated at doing this - maybe because your ears hear Jungkook’s breathing, followed by a few low groans. Or maybe because you were actually doing this with him.

Jungkook wants to be more vulgar - he wants to tell you to spit on it for lubrication, but there was more than a 50% chance that you’d cower at his words, so he opts to just watch you with hooded eyes. 

“C-Can I…?”

Jungkook nods his head, unsure truly what you meant but he was hoping it was what he thought you did. 

And it was.

You were awkward at first, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips, but the act alone has Jungkook pre-cumming, a salty substance touching your tongue. Your tongue reaches out to lick the tip, eyes glancing up to see a reaction.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t appear to be in pain.

You venture further, closing your own eyes to do anything, hoping the act would come natural to you. If you thought about his cock appearing like a lollipop, then the act would be the same then - as long as you remembered not to bite it in the end, you’d be good.

You begin to suck, continuing your stroking motion. Jungkook's head falls back against the headboard, biting his lip. He can’t look at you, he thinks, because if he does, he knows he would cum and he doesn’t want to cum yet - not in your mouth, at least. Another time, yes. 

But you’re sucking him so good that he can’t help but release a few moans of your name, a hand placing itself onto your head encouragingly. He knows now that you’re good for him - the perfect girl he needs to mold into the woman he knows you can be. He can make you a star that the world will love - and the whore behind the scenes just for him.

Jungkook forces you to go deeper until you feel the tip of his cock hit your uvula. It takes everything in you to not gag. You had to be good for him, you think. Your seonbae can be as good to you as you are to him.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook grips the back of your head. “So good for me…allowing me to fuck your mouth.”

You don’t realize your legs are clenching until there's friction. You can feel a string of drool coming from the corners of your lips, but you can’t care - there’s no time to. Jungkook’s thrusting into your mouth with such force and need, completely taking over whatever control he allowed you to have.

Jungkook continues to grunt. He won’t be lasting long and he truly does not want to come. He allows himself to look at you now - how filthy you looked with his cock shoved in your mouth. How there’s tears in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall and drool dripping down your chin. But yet and still, you were so beautiful, innocent, the pure look still in your eyes.

A look Jungkook couldn’t wait to ruin.

Jungkook yanks himself away from you the second he feels himself about to cum, his high slowly going down. He pants, clenching his teeth together. 

“My good girl…” Jungkook trails off. “I’m going to make you cum.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he pushes you against his mattress and forces your legs apart. 

“So wet.” Jungkook tsks, no longer holding back. His fingers meet your clit and he begins to rub.

Your hand automatically grips Jungkook's wrist, but he makes no movement to stop. Instead, he watches your wide eyes with his own, as if daring you to try to stop him.

The feeling is weird, but good. No one but your own fingers has touched you, and the foreign feeling was causing a bubbling effect in your stomach. Jungkook was experienced in this - he knew exactly what to do to get you squirming beneath him.

“So sweet.” Jungkook says after placing two fingers in his mouth. “Now I have to taste you.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you a moment, instead dipping his head down to capture your clit in his mouth. He lays his tongue flat on it and licks, flickering his tongue between your folds hungrily. 

Jungkook’s quick, both hands grabbing your thighs just as they were about to close. He forces them back, your knees hitting the mattress.

The sounds that could be heard are nothing but filthy - Jungkook’s suckling and groans, your moans and whimpers. You yourself don’t want to look between your legs, afraid that you’d catch eyes with Jungkook and lose yourself even more. But that didn’t mean Jungkook wasn’t going to. He enjoys watching you - every reaction is raw. You’re new to this, so that means that he was going to be the one that made you feel amazing; make you cum.

The thought alone excites Jungkook to no end.

Your pretty moans were music to Jungkook ears and he’s satisfied you no longer hid them from him. His pretty girl, he thinks. Once so innocent and shy now laid on his bed, begging for more - and more he’d give you. To think that in the eyes of the public, he could never call you what you were (his, yet…) but he knew just like you knew. 

Jungkook pushes back from your clit to enter two fingers inside of you. You were tight and he’s certain you’d need to be stretched out before he could fuck you. ‘Relax, pretty girl.” he mumbles when you flinch. “It’ll feel good. Just be good for me.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to pump. He’s slow at first, testing you, eyes on your reaction before he can truly fuck his fingers inside of you.

You bite your lips and quiver your legs. “I don’t think I can-”

“You can take it, Y/N.”

You wish you had the confidence in yourself that Jungkook held for you. You hold back your words in an attempt to just that - take it. But it was hard. You were feeling like Jungkook's fingers were stretching you out in a way you’ve never been - and you were beginning to second guess if you wanted his cock inside of you.

“My pretty girl, so tight for me.” Jungkook speaks more to himself than to you. His eyes zone in on his fingers pumping in and out of you, your juices coating his fingers. He groans - you’re clenching around him so perfectly that he cannot wait to feel you for himself.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Jungkook snickers when he hears the faintest moan from your lips. “My good girl.”

Jungkook curls his fingers inside of you, pumping even deeper. Jungkook leans down to capture your lips with him on, his pumping never stopping. His tongue coats your bottom lip, forcing it open so he can dominate your own.

“Jungk-kook-”

Jungkook’s tongue licks the side of your cheek, wet and warm. It drags to your jaw to your neck and dips down between your breasts. Still pumping inside of you - understanding that you’ll be cumming soon, he captures a nipple. 

Jungkook loves the sweet noises you’re making - who knew something so shy could be so filthy when the time came. No one but him would know. His tongue flicks your nipples teasingly, the hardened bud enjoying being toyed with. 

“Please stop, Jungkook. I can’t-”

Jungkook bites (only gently) your nipple to silence you. His thumb rubs your clit encouragingly. “It’s okay, baby. You’re about to cum. Just let loose.”

This wasn’t cumming - you’ve never experienced this before. You’ve touched yourself many times and this wasn’t what it felt like. Your toes are curling and slowly your back arches. You couldn’t take it anymore - not with Jungkook’s suckling on your breast, as well.

Jungkook has to see it for himself. He lets your nipple pop from his lips and his eyes zone in on your clenching pussy, sopping wet for him. He allows a few more pumps before he removes his fingers, juices leaking out of you at a rapid pace. Your thighs are quivering, but you can feel relief wash over you now that it’s done. 

“I told you to stop.” you whimper, the familiar hot sensation running through you. “I wouldn’t have done that-”

“You never told me to stop.” Jungkook interrupts. He wraps a hand around his erect cock, wishing he could fuck into you right now. “Besides, you loved it.” he slaps it against your clit, gently rubbing it between your folds.

You swallow. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“But you can.” Jungkook continues to rub against your clit. “I don’t ask for a lot, do I?”

You clench around nothing, but you fear yourself becoming overstimulated. “No.” you respond meekly. 

“Exactly.” Jungkook pants. “Such a wet pussy my good girl has.” he says vulgarly. “Don’t you think it’s selfish of you to deny me pleasure after all I’ve done for you?”

Jungkook slaps his cock against your clit, continuing. “I’ve helped you with everything. You have shows lined up because of me, Y/N. They’re not interested in your group. They’re interested in you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I could be an asshole and sue and say I deserve writing credits to the song. I was in the studio, wasn’t I?” Jungkook circles his tip at your wet entrance. “But I haven’t. I’ve done everything I could to assure you’ve achieved greatness and it’s as if giving me the one thing I ask for is too much.”

“Seonbaenim…” your voice trails off, heart beating rapidly at his words. 

“You don’t respect me as your superior, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. “If I didn’t care for you, I would’ve taken you a long time ago. I wouldn't have given you any form of pleasure because I would only be thinking of my own.”

You’re taken aback by his words, but Jungkook doesn’t stop.

“No other man in this industry is going to love or respect you the way that I do. They’ll use you until you have nothing left to give. Then, you’ll just be damaged goods.” 

You’re so beautiful, Jungkook thinks, even when his cruel words show on your face. But he was an honest man, after all. Who’d want you once you weren’t a young, naive virgin willing to please? No one but him - which is why he needed to be the one to have you all to himself. 

It was only right, Jungkook thinks. 

“You don’t want that, right, pretty girl?” Jungkook offers a kind smile, his words not matching it. “You already promised you’ll be mine and mine alone. Right?”

Slowly, you nod your head.

“Say it, Y/N. Say you’ll only be mine.”

Jungkook needed a confirmation - more for himself. He didn’t want you to come back and regret anything because you gave him full consent.

“I’ll only be yours.”

Jungkook hums with satisfaction. “That’s right, baby. Only mine. Turn around.” Jungkook instructs, helping you do so. He arches your back, hand against your back so your chest is against the mattress. 

“Seonbae?” you quip feeling Jungkook’s cock against your hole, reading to pounce any given moment. “I-I don’t have any protection.”

Jungkook furrows a brow. “Okay?”

“Do you?” you swallow, throat feeling dry.

“For you, no.” Jungkook laughs, a genuine laugh as if he couldn’t believe your words. “We’ve already gone through this, Y/N. You’re my girl.”

“But-”

“Why do I need to use protection if you’re my girl? What is the protection for?” Jungkook was growing impatient.

You bite your lip. You and he were a part of the same industry - both idols with jobs you had to do. “I can’t get pregnant, seonbae.” you whisper, embarrassed that it’s something you had to say. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Getting pregnant by me is an honor, Y/N.” he says, his tone a bit snappy. You didn’t mean to offend him. “Maybe if I get you pregnant then you’ll know just who you belong to.” he says the last part more harshly, hand gripping your waist with such force. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I know what to do. You won’t get pregnant.” Yet - he promised you stardom and he never went back on his promises. 

Your fingers clench the bed sheets when you feel Jungkook enter you. The feeling is far more intense - more than his fingers. It’s not as if Jungkook made it any easier. He had no intentions of going easy on you now - not after you’ve attempted to deny him access to you. A condom was a slap in the face - after all the work he’s put in to assure he fulfilled his promise to you.

“Jung…kook…” your eyes are clenched shut, body jerking away from him.

“Stop running away.” Jungkook snarls, jerking you back against him. You’re so tight, clenching around him heavenly. “You’ll feel good soon, pretty girl. I promise.”

Soon came, but not fast enough. You were being stretched out so savagely that you contemplated if it would be like this everytime you and he had sex. You’re positive that your hips would have bruises on them with how tight Jungkook grips them, keeping you in place.

Jungkook pants, his eyes watching the way your ass bounces against him in astonishment. For a virgin, you had a slutty body that only he’d be able to have.

“It feels good now, doesn’t it?” Jungkook snickers. “I can feel you clenching around me even tighter. I told you it would.”

Jungkook’s slamming into your sweet spot, pressing against it with each passing thrust. He can’t wait to fuck you the entire night until he couldn’t anymore. He wants you in every position possible, not caring if you had to be up the following morning early - because right now, you were his and his alone. 

Jungkook hovers above you, both of his hands atop yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours, his lips against your ears. “My pretty good girl. Aren’t you happy I chose you?” his teeth nibble your ear playfully. “Out of all the women I can have. I chose you. Tell me you’re happy.”

“I’m…I’m happy.” you moan, eyes fluttering with how deep he is in this position. 

You were happy.

You’ve accepted that this was your fate now - you were going to please Jungkook and in return, you’d have what you wanted. A career and someone you respected by your side as much as he was willing to be. 

“So good for me.” Jungkook murmurs. “Kiss me.”

You strain your neck, but you do as Jungkook says. Your moans die down against his lips, but he has all night to hear your moans.

And Jungkook does. He fucks into you each and every time, not caring about the exhausted look in your face. He flips you onto your back, your knees against your shoulders and cums deep inside of you. He allows you on top, but only he has control, your cunt filled to the brim with even more cum, but he isn’t finished until you’re begging him for a break - but how could he want to stop? He’s waited so long for you that he has a few more rounds in before he’s satisfied.

“Pretty girl.” Jungkook simpers at your condition - nearly unconscious and full of his cum. “Here.”

Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. As much as he enjoys cumming inside of you, he had a promise to fulfill before he can allow you to carry his child. “Can’t have you getting pregnant at the height of your career, can’t we?”

Jungkook hands you a water bottle and a small pill. Your words are inaudible, but he has a clue of what the question is. 

“Contraceptive.” Jungkook assists in having you take it. “I’ll get you some birth control pills tomorrow.”

You swallow the pill and nod, falling against the mattress. You were far too exhausted to speak, only wanting to sleep.

Jungkook brings you closer to him, your head against his chest while his hands rub along your back softly. Gently, he presses a kiss to your head. “Aren’t you happy you have me as happy as I am to have you, Y/N? he murmurs, knowing that you’ve already fallen to slumber. “No other man is going to treat you as good as I am.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, satisfied with the good deed he has done not only for him, but for you, as well.

[violetsiren90]

What the Moon Saw

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader

Genre: One-shot; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; young love; summer nights, angst/fluff/smut

Summary: Having been with each other through thick and thin, you and your childhood friend, Yoongi, realize that nobody knows how to say goodbye.

Listen to: "Nobody Knows" by The Lumineers

Drabbles: Stolen Tides; Beacons Ashore; The Lighthouse Keeper; Under the Hunter's Moon

Content Warnings: 18+ (minors dni); allusions to domestic abuse; divorce of parents; cigarette smoking; infidelity (not between main couple); kissing; hickeys; making out; hand jobs; oral sex (female receiving); loss of virginity (female); moments of body insecurity; unprotected sex; cumming inside; cockwarming; characters are ADULTS at the time of their sexual encounter; LOTS of emotions

Author's note: I moved. Like, a block away from the beach, and the views and the vibes have me ALL up in my feels. I wrote this in two nights and then sat on it. I wasn't sure if I was going to post it or just keep it in my heart because parts of it are so personal to me. BUT, here it is. I want to give inspiration credit to @orchidyoonkook , because I will never ever be able to write young love or Yoongi without being influenced by the beauty that is Under the Willow Tree. 💕 If anyone chooses to read this little love story of mine, I hope it brings you something wholesome!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

    You inhaled deeply, taking the salty air into your lungs as you gazed out over the cliff side and across the rippling blue that stretched on and on until it met the soft pink glow of the horizon. Your eyes tracked the tide lapping at the smooth sands. You slipped off your heels to meet the cool pavement, but you could feel it already - the soft golden grains molding to meet your steps. These shores hadn't borne your footprints in over a decade, but here you were, drawn back again by the hypnotic crash of the sea and the lonely call of the gulls. It felt as though you had never left. You leaned over the railing of the rickety staircase that wove its way down the cliff side into the sand and scree. Your gaze trailed down the steps, one by one, until you saw it, jutting out halfway down: the lip of a ledge in the rock face. Your breath caught in your chest. Old, familiar feelings of a time gone by washed over you. The years rolled back like clouds from the sun in the western sky.

You were nineteen.

You shivered, drawing your knees up and hugging them to you as sat on the thick woolen blanket you had laid over the cool stone of the ledge. Even on a summer night like this, you should have worn something more practical. But you had worn your cotton sundress with the cherries. He had once told you that you looked like the main character in that dress, and it had been your favorite ever since.

You watched the moon dance on the dark water and thought about all it had seen. It had been watching the little alcove from the beginning. It had seen you the summer after your first year of middle school, wrapped in a blanket with book between your hands, as you took refuge from the emotional turmoil that shook your house nearly every night leading up to your parents' divorce. It had seen the boy one night, wandering the beach with a cigarette and busted lip, trying to smoke away the tears in his eyes. It had seen the boy climb the stairs, only to discover his favorite hiding place was already harboring another runaway. It had seen you look at him - skinny limbs in a jacket and ripped jeans not lanky on his small frame, tussled dark hair, round face, little bleeding pouted lips, dark sharp eyes wide with surprise - and consider that he was likely the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. It had seen him offer you a cigarette which you refused. It had seen him ask you for a light, which you didn't have. And then it had seen you become friends. Best friends. It had watched you become all that the other truly had in the small, beautiful, painful world of a child. And now it would watch him amble up the beach one last time to find you there.

Yoongi. He had been so upset when you told him that you were leaving for college, but he had tried his best not to show it. He was always like that, keeping things deep inside. You had to wait and watch and listen and coax them out. You could always find the right time to do it, when he felt safe to let you. Most nights, though, it was you pouring out every little thing in your heart. Yoongi loved it when you did that. He would listen with the softest little smile and warm eyes, creasing in the corners, as he watched your hands move with as much animation as your voice when you spoke. His nearly-silent breathy laugh would come like a breeze off the sea and waft around you, lifting your spirits and cleansing your soul. His rare, full smile spreading in breathtaking beauty over his face, pulling his upper lip away from his gums. There were the good times, and the bad ones. On hard nights you would hold each other in silence, letting the beat of the other's heart and the steady undulation of the tide carry you through to the dawn.

You remembered the first time you had awakened in his arms after such a night. The light had just started to stream over the tops of the cliffs, painting the water in rose gold. You had shivered, feeling the dampness of the cool salty air in your hair. And then you had looked up and seen him there, holding you, still fast asleep. His face was angelic, little pink lips just parted, chest rising and falling with the swell of his breath, and you swore you could endure anything life threw at you if the first thing you saw each day were his dark lashes resting gently on the apples of his cheeks. Yoongi had finally stirred and blinked down at you, just gazing silently - the little warm smile in his eyes rather than on his lips. In that moment, something had changed. In the weeks that followed, you thought you had never felt so many things at once.

You felt giddy. You felt a little sick. You felt like you could fly.

You were in love.

You were in love and you had very nearly worked up the courage to do something about it when you saw it - that horrid little purple bruise right below his ear. You had asked him if his father had done it and he had been confused at first. But when you brushed your fingers so softly over the mark, his eyes had widened and he had recoiled, pulling up the collar of his jacket to obscure it from your view. He had insisted that he was fine and not to worry. But worry you did, all the way up to the day you realized what the little bruise really was. Then your worry morphed into something different. You felt sick again, but this time it felt like a burden. You had chided yourself for being so stupid. He was beautiful and sixteen, of course he was involved with girls - girls that weren't you. Your heart broke. You pieced it back together with the succor of his friendship, and, soon, you started seeing other boys too. But you never let them give you purple bruises. You didn't want them from their lips. 

As the seasons went by, you remained tethered to one another. Regardless of friends or suitors who would come and go, you knew each other in a way that no one else could. A way that didn't require words. Laughter bubbled up without effort or restraint. Fights ended in tears and forehead kisses and never lasted more than a few moments. Never past parting. Until one day a few weeks ago when he had told you that a boy you were going with was seeing another girl. Yoongi had never liked your boyfriend, and so you had reacted badly, gotten defensive and let yourself be angry with him for telling you. You had snapped at him to mind his own business. When he had insisted that you were his business you had said no you weren't, not in that way. He had gone quiet. So quiet. And then he had left. And he hadn't come the next night. Or the night after that.

You were so angry and anxious, and you told yourself you wouldn't wait for him another night, so you stayed home for the rest of the week. Then, on the third night away, you had tucked yourself into bed only to imagine Yoongi waiting for you, alone in the darkness. You had whipped off your covers and gone to find him in your pajamas. When he had seen you he had jumped up, throwing his cigarette aside, and crushed you in his arms. He had hugged you from the other side of the railing, not even waiting for you to climb over, then lifted you to stand before him on the ledge where he had enveloped you in his arms again. You had tried to apologize, but he wouldn't let you. And then you told him what you had been dreading to tell him all summer: you were leaving. He hadn't reacted. He had just held you in silence. But there was something different in him now, something that had his eyes trained immovably on the horizon. Something that wouldn't let him look at you. Something that distracted him from all you had to say as his thumbs brushed softly over your arms. He had looked at you so strangely before you had parted that night.

Now you were meeting one last time before you would watch the little coastal town and all its hurts disappear in your rearview mirror. You needed a second chance and this scholarship might be your only shot. Your reverie broke as you noticed a figure shuffling down the waterline in the bright light of the waxing gibbous. The figure sprung nimbly, with practiced steps, up the stairs, and lightly vaulted the rail, landing with a soft thud, catlike, a few feet from where you sat. He stepped forward, standing over you as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He was wearing tight khakis, white tennis shoes, and a plain white tee under his green military jacket. With a smoke tucked behind his ear and that little smirk on his lips, you thought he might be cooler than Steve McQueen.

"Got a light?" he asked coolly, shoving the pack of Marlboros back in his pocket. You rolled your eyes.

"Of course not, Yoongi. And why on earth do you always ask me that when you've got one anyway?"

Yoongi smiled to himself as he brought a lighter to the little yellow-tipped cylinder between his lips. It was a secret kind of smile, the kind that made you want to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth. But tonight wasn't for fighting, even the bickering kind. He eased himself down beside you with his signature careful grace. You sat in silence, gaze trained out over the water. While you were looking elsewhere, he relaxed, and you tracked his movements in your peripheral vision. You would do this sometimes, especially when he was particularly guarded. He had always been bad at eye contact, but if you gave him a little space he would let down his walls, and you could read him like a book. Just now, he had let his gaze settle on you. Smoke hissed through his lips, his mouth hanging open just a little in that way it did when he was lost to his thoughts. His eyes roved over you in a way that made you mouth go dry. You swallowed. He suddenly shifted his gaze, coughing a bit.

"I like this dress," he offered, like an apology.

"I know," you murmured with a smile.

"Yeah?" he questioned, brow furrowing, as he took another drag. He was quiet for a beat before pressing out another question. "Paul headed out east too?"

"I broke up with him," came your answer, but without a smile this time.

  "Yeah?"

    "Oh come on, Yoongi," you bit out, "You knew that was going to happen. That's why you told me!"

His jaw ticked ever so slightly.

    "You know that's not true. He was cheating on you. I couldn't let you be in the dark about it - get hurt by another one of these assholes who don't deserve your time in the first place."

You sighed, frustration rising unbidden again as Yoongi casually hurtled the unspoken walls you had erected to make things easier.

    "What I deserve is my business. I don't go chastising you for letting random bitches suck on your neck and god knows what else so that you don't feel lonely."

The remark had been soft but laced with venom, and you had regretted breaching your own resolve against negativity the moment the words had spilled from your lips.

    "Random..." He stared at you intently, surprise and confusion mingling with another indiscernible expression in his eyes as they traced over your features. You were trying to think of a way, any way, to salvage the conversation when he huffed out a laugh.

    "You did know what it was!"

    "What?"

    "That hickey you asked about sophomore year."

Your stomach flipped.

    "How do you even remember that?" You blustered in incredulity.

    "How do you?"

    He was staring at you knowingly with those achingly beautiful dark eyes that always saw you. It was one of the things you loved most about him. But right now it was terrifying. Right now you wanted to escape, only, there was nowhere to go. So for a moment, just a moment, you didn't hide anymore.

    "Because," you swallowed, trailing your eyes back up to his, your voice shaking a bit as you whispered, "I remember everything."

A beat. Two. You didn't make a disarming jest, or a hurried qualification. You didn't even blink. In a flash as quick and heavy as a summer storm, years of yearning filled your eyes like intangible tears, holding his face in your gaze before casting it back out over the sea. Yoongi had froze where he sat, eyes trained immovably on you before he suddenly stood, tossing his cigarette and cursing as he took a step toward the edge, weaving his fingers through his hair.

"What?" you asked, almost defensively.

He didn't turn around, but you could hear the emotion in his voice, his head bowed as he wrestled with the words.

    "Nah, that's not fair. You're leaving...You're leaving and you're gonna make it even...even harder right now?"

Turns out you weren't the only one who had been building walls with invisible bricks. You jumped to your feet.

    "Oh, so this is my fault? You've been telling me my whole life to get out! You convinced me to apply to the Ivy Leagues! You spent the last weeks pushing me away! I don't understand what you want from me, Yoongi!"

He turned toward you, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes on the ground.

    "A clean break," he said lowly, "Not from you...for you. I just wanted you to run, no guilt no pain, and not look back."

You felt a lump rise in your throat as you shook your head.

    "That's not how it works though. I was always going to look back. Whenever I was frightened or lost or uncertain. Whenever I woke up in the morning or closed my eyes to sleep, or laughed, or...or felt so much joy I didn't know what to do with it. I was always going to look back, Yoongi," You took a deep breath, "I was going to look for you."

Hot tears slipped down your cheeks as you grabbed his arm and pressed your wet face into his shoulder. You could feel his body shake with little sobs.

    "Don't," he croaked out, "don't look for me."

    "Sorry," you huffed a tearful laugh into the fabric of his sleeve, "I don't think my heart will listen to you. Pretty rough deal when it's yours after all."

You had tried to say it like a joke. It had come out like a promise.

    Yoongi stilled. Everything stilled. For a moment, it was as if even the sea and the sky and the moon held their breath. He let his hands fall from where they covered his face. As he lifted his head and turned, you dropped his arm, thinking for one horrible moment that he meant to push you away. But he didn't. He reached for you, and gently, firmly - like every move he ever made, like every word he ever spoke - slipped his hand around the nape of your neck and pressed his mouth against yours.

    You gasped softly against his lips.

    Sweet, methodical, insistent. He slipped his tongue against your bottom lip and you tilted your head to slot your mouth against his, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushed languorously against your own. He tasted like mint and cigarettes and him. You could do this all day. A little dagger pierced your heart at the thought that you only had tonight. You stumbled back, tugging him down beside you onto the blanket. You pushed him to his back and slipped onto his lap, leaning down to reconnect your lips with his. He chuckled into your mouth, his cheeks still wet with tears. 

    "Slow down," he hummed.

    "No," you murmured in simple defiance, kissing along his jaw before dipping to press your mouth to the soft flesh of his neck.

You licked softly, experimentally, along the side of his throat, and his fingers tightened against your waist. He tasted like salty skin and the alcohol of that cheap musky cologne he wore and Yoongi. You leaned back, supporting yourself with hands on either side of his head as you looked down at him.

    "Can I?" you asked with a shy smile

    "Hm?" he hummed, large, lithe hands massaging your waist.

    "Leave a mark?"

His eyes squeezed into little crescent moons, and his mouth pulled up into a full smile he couldn't repress. He chuckled again, reaching up to brush his palm over your cheek, and nodded, tilting his head to the side to expose the creamy skin of his neck. Your heart hammered in your chest as you leaned down and placed an open-mouthed kiss to his throat before sucking until you had pulled a low, deep groan from him. You pushed up again, surprised at the sound, new and lovely, to find him flushed - his blown pupils darkening his eyes, and a little wet patch of smooth skin growing rosy against his throat. You felt a thrill rush through you, making you tremble. You leaned down and marked him again and again, pulling sweet moans from his lips until his neck and collarbones were littered with the proof of your mouth. You lifted your face to kiss him again, but after pressing his lips to yours twice, he pulled back.

"One more," he whispered, taking your hand from his face and guiding it down to the slight firm swell of the top of his left pec.

His eyes played over your face as you felt it softly against your fingertips - his heart. In a valiant fight for your composure, you pressed your eyes shut and buried your face in his chest. He ran a hand over the back of your head soothingly. You raised your face to meet his gaze again, choking out a little sob at the depth of its gentle affection. You slipped your fingers to the collar of his cotton tee and stretched it down and to the side, revealing his bare chest. With reverence you pressed your mouth to his skin, fulfilling his request.     

No sooner had you raised your eyes to his again than he was pulling you against his lips and rolling you to your back. His weight sank into you as your mouths moved together and you thought, maybe, under his warmth was the only place you ever wanted to be. Your body responded to him seemingly of its own accord, your legs weaving around the backs of his thighs as a thrumming ache intensified at your core. As he moved to kiss your neck you found your hips rolling up, seeking relief for the sticky ache at their center, and you were met with a firm knot in his groin that pressed just where you were neediest. Your high-pitched whine was a sharp contrast to his low growl into your shoulder. It was intoxicating - his sensation, his sound, and you undulated against him over and over to slake your want on his growing hardness and hear his breath come quick against your ear. He began to rock against you in return, and soon you were whimpering into his neck, beads of sweat cooling on your forehead against the night air as each rut of his hips became overwhelming and not enough.

    "Yoongi, please," you begged in a breathy moan, lightly squeezing the back of his neck and turning your damp forehead against his soft cheek.

He pushed up to look at you, brushing away the little hairs clinging to your brow. He looked as needy as you, but a little uncertain.

    "What is it?" he asked. You knew he knew. You leaned up and kissed him chastely before letting your head fall back against the blanket.

    "I want you," you murmured, suddenly barely able to look at him as the words formed on your lips.

Yoongi dipped to press another kiss to your mouth before sitting up and back on your thighs, and gently tugging you up with him. You noticed the bulge straining against the front of his khakis, and he winced slightly as he wiggled to adjust against your legs. He took your hands in his, that little smile tugging at the corners of his pink lips, tongue darting out lick at them as he considered you thoughtfully. Impatient, you pushed his jacket off his shoulder, which he fully shed and cast aside, and ran your hands over his cotton-clad chest. His muscle jumped when you grazed down over his stomach, which you thought must be as soft and lovely as the rest of him.

  "Are you sure you want this to happen right now, with me?" he asked tenderly. You looked up at him, your brow pinched in question. "Your first time?"

    You scoffed, your face heating as you looked away, brushing bits of sand from the blanket.

    "How do you know if it's my first time?"

His little smile spread into a grin.

    "Because I know," he offered, a bit smugly.

You toyed with the hem of his shirt.

    "I'm sure," you murmured. And then you looked up at him. "Have you ever..."

    "Yeah," he responded, almost like he was sorry, as he glanced down and took your hands in his again. He bit the bottom corner of his lip. "I don't have a condom."

You felt your heart pounding as the concept of him taking you where you sat became increasingly real.

    "So pull out," you offered nonchalantly, hoping you sounded far more experienced than he knew you were.

He nodded. You snaked a hand between you to dance your fingers over the strain against the crotch of his pants. His hand flew to encircle your wrist and still your movements. He took a deep breath.

    "It might hurt you at first. Maybe the whole time," he said, his thumb brushing in a pendulum motion over your arm. You nodded.

    "I know. I don't care."

He smiled again, regarding you for a long moment. 

    "Okay," he said, nodding and licking his lips before taking your jaw delicately between the rounded pads of his fingers. "But you have to promise me one thing."

    "Hm?"

    "You still have to leave in the morning."

You heaved a sigh. Oh, Yoongi. You thought you might cry again, so you nodded, pulling him down over you once more.

    "Promise me," he murmured against your lips.

    "I promise," you breathed.

    You kissed slowly, greedily, learning each other's mouths and mapping each other's faces and necks. At some point he dipped below your collarbone to drag his lips along the tops of your breasts. Your hand flew into his hair and he looked up at you, dark eyes seeking permission. You nodded, bottom lip clamped between your teeth as he tugged down the stretchy bodice of your sundress to reveal a simple beige bra that clasped in the front.

    "It's not sexy," you remarked apologetically.

He shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes, and dipped to kiss the tops of your breasts as his fingers found the clasp.

    "Shhh, it's just the wrapping," he whispered as he snapped the garment open, letting your breasts fall into view as they pushed aside the fabric cups that had confined them.

He cursed under his breath as he brought both hands to your tits and kneaded them gently, sliding your pert nipples in the spaces between his fingers. You mewled, arching your back to press your chest up into his grasp. Before you could truly revel in the feeling of his hands plying your supple flesh, they were gone, but your whine of protest was cut short by a sharp keen as his mouth replaced his fingers. He suckled and nipped at one bud and then the other, and each time he released one with a pop, you were certain you had been rendered temporarily unconscious. Soon he was sitting up and smirking down at the panting, writhing mess of you beneath him. You saw him grimace again as he adjusted his stance, and you reached for his zipper, only to find your hand caught in his.

    "No yet," he chided lightly, a twinkle in his eye, "I have to make you cum."

You drew your arm back and cast it over the top of your face, suddenly shy at his remark.

    "To get you ready for me," he explained again in a murmur as he pushed your dress up to your rib cage.

He traced his hands lightly over your naked waist and you shivered. He moved to his knees, pushing your legs to either side of him. He hooked his fingers into the top of your pink cotton panties, when you suddenly felt yourself sitting up, your dress falling back over your midriff. You were a sight - wild hair and your tits half out, still panting for breath while worry painted your features. Yoongi pulled his hands away and sat back, confusion in his widened eyes. 

    "I don't shave," you rushed out, "I know some girls do, but I've never tried. And...I don't know, I'm kind of a mess down there right now..."

Yoongi's face softened and he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours.

  "I don't care," he whispered. You huffed out another sigh.

    "But...but what if you...don't like it?"

    "I know I will."

    "How?"

He bumped your nose with his, swallowing again as his hand found yours.

"Because I love you."

He only let the words hang in the air for a millisecond before he was crashing his lips into yours again, passionately, as if it was the only way he could convey his conviction.

He loved you. You could have died. But he was pressing one of the kisses you would always remember into your lips like an oath, so you didn't. And then you let him bare your skin and lay you down and tell you that you were beautiful. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you felt your heart believe him. How were you to leave in the morning when his soft, warm words felt like the sun?

    He ran his hands over your sides and thighs, dipping to trail slow, deliberate kisses down from your navel until his chin brushed the soft, curly hairs of your mound. Your breath caught in your chest as the cool air hit fresh slick dampening your sex. He leaned back again, regarding you with warm eyes, and took your hand in his, placing it over your lower lips.

"Do you touch yourself?"

    You stammered. He had asked you as simply as if he were inquiring about your favorite flavor of ice cream. With effort you admitted that you did. He stroked over your hand.

"Show me how. What makes you feel good."

You nodded slowly, feeling yourself tremble a little as you moved to stroke your middle finger in beckoning motions over your swollen clit. The motion that should have been almost automatic and familiar felt new and lewd under his gaze. As you dipped to gather more arousal from your entrance you watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat and his hands tighten where they gripped your thighs.

    "You're soaked," he murmured as he stooped to press a kiss to your belly. Then he did something that would be seared into your brain for all eternity: he scooped up your hand and brought it to his lips, sucking your sticky middle finger into his mouth. You gushed at the sensation of his lips and tongue, wide eyes locked on his as he slowly let your finger slip free.

    "You want to know how you taste?" He asked, not waiting for an answer before humming, "So fucking good."

    "Yeah?" you asked breathlessly, propped up on your forearms to watch as he laid down between your legs.

  "Mhm. Sweet. Like honey."

He kissed into your pubic hair, slipping one of his long fingers to trace over your clit the way you had showed him. You gasped as you watched him work you up, something inside you growing taut like a bowstring. And then a kind of pleasure you had never imagined, the kind that made you want to melt and scream, rushed through your trembling body as a single finger pressed slowly past your entrance while his mouth found your clit. You found your hips bucking to meet his thrusts as he pressed in a second finger. You felt a slight sting at the stretch, but the exquisite pressure of this knobby knuckles caressing your walls overwhelmed any pain, and when he pressed the pads of his fingers to massage a spongy patch of muscle, you cried out, gripping his dark locks. 

    "Yoongi!" you moaned as he repeated the motion, and when he took your clit between his lips to suck you came.

You came hard and in waves, rolling your hips into him until you were clamping your thighs shut at the raw sensitivity of overstimulation. Yoongi sat up to rub his hands over your shaking thighs and heaving belly before leaning back down to kiss you and return your spirit through his lips from the astral plane.

    "You did so good," he cooed, "Came so easy for me."

    "That's good?" you asked between pants. He chuckled into your neck.

    "Mhm."

    "It felt good, Yoongi, really good." He dropped a kiss to your shoulder, and then mumbled into your skin.

    "You still want to go all the way?"

    "Yes," you whispered, pulling his shirt up his back and running your hands over his bare skin.

Yoongi sat up and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it to lay with his jacket. He was slender and milky, as you had expected, but his shoulders were surprisingly broad, and his upper chest firm. The soft swell of his belly was dusted with a trail of delicate dark hairs leading down from his navel. You reached instinctively for the button of his pants, and this time he let you. Trailing the zipper down, he helped you shed his tight pants and boxers, sighing in relief as he freed his erection. You bit your lip as your hand trailed over the velvety skin of his shaft. Even this part of him was beautiful, you thought - not overly long but thick and proud with a pretty vein and a smooth tip glistening with precum. You had been so consumed with drinking him in that you only now noticed the little needy whimpers falling from his lips as you stroked him. You squeezed a little firmer, pumping him with more confidence.

    "Like that?" you asked, unable to look away from the sweet sight of his face as his eyebrows knitted and his head tilted back.

"Yeah, just...no, no, I won't last," he groaned, his hand stilling yours.

When he met your concerned gaze he reached up to stroke your cheek.

"Feels too good," he murmured reassuringly, then he guided you back down on the blanket, balling up his jacket and slipping it under your head.

He lowered himself carefully over you, skin to skin, as he kissed you again and again, his right hand toying with your breast and trailing lower to caress your clit. You could feel the heat rising in you again, and an aching want inside growing deeper and hungrier with every shock of pleasure. When he trailed his fingers through your folds to find you thoroughly wet he leaned to the side, gliding his length between your lips, his smooth tip brushing over your bud. You cursed, fingers digging into his back and he huffed a little laugh, eyes sparkling down at you.

    "Dirty girl," he chuckled, before kissing the tip of your nose. "Are you ready?"

You felt a squeeze of trepidation in your chest, but you pushed it away.

    "Yes," you assured him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

For a long moment, he just stared down at you, the same look in his eyes as the morning you had first awakened in his arms, but so intent - as if he was trying to commit every feature of your face, in this moment, to memory. Finally breaking his gaze, he glanced down between your bodies, aligning himself with your entrance. His eyes flicked back up to you as he slowly, slowly breached your core. When he had pressed in past his tip you felt the searing stretch he had warned you of. You closed your eyes, drawing in a sharp breath.

"You okay?" came is worried voice, "Want to stop?" You shook your head.

"No, just do it," you panted through the pain, "I want it to be you."

You pulled him down to press your mouth to his. Every kiss between you seemed to say something. This one said that you trusted him in a way you would never trust another.

He was so gentle. Pressing in slowly, giving you time to stretch around the thickness of him, kissing you sweetly through your whimpers, until he was fully sheathed inside you. Tears filled your eyes and trickled down your cheeks. You were so full of him.

    "Why are you crying?" he cooed, touching his forehead to yours.

Your hands clutched his back as you raised watery eyes to his.

"Because I'm yours, Yoongi. Yours first and no one else's." He buried his face in your neck.

"Take me, Yoongi," you whispered desperately into his ear, "Take me like I'm yours."

You felt him let out a tiny sob against your skin and then he started to move. He kept a slow pace at first, carefully gliding against your tight walls, unaccustomed to his presence. You could feel him jerk and twitch as he moved, and thought he must be restraining himself. You found the worst of your pain had passed, and all you wanted in the world was to make him cum.

    "Don't hold back," you hummed as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts.

He didn't need you to tell him twice, instantly setting a quicker, sharper pace that had his balls slapping your ass and his pelvic bone pressing to your clit with each forward snap.

    "You're so fucking tight," he mumbled, a dazed look beginning to overtake his features, "You feel so good, baby. So good." You wove your hands into his hair, pulling him down to kiss him as you breathed in every curse, whimper, and moan. And then he was looking down at you with dark, wild eyes.

    "I'm gonna cum, sweetheart, where do you want me to cum?"

You didn't have to think.

    "Inside," you answered breathlessly.

    "But I'm not..."

  "Please, cum inside me, Yoongi. Please," you whimpered, tempted to wrap your legs around his waist - your desire for him transcending every fear of consequence. But you wanted to give him the choice.

He raised himself up on his elbows, his thrusts coming impossibly harder and more erratic, and then he came. You watched him in exaltation as he threw his head back and cried out, emptying himself inside you. So beautiful, you thought, with his hair clinging to his brow, his chest heaving and flushed, and his face drawn in the throes of his release. You did wrap your legs around him then, and he collapsed, his head falling to your breasts as he gasped for breath. You tangled your fingers into his hair, caressing his head. You were swollen and sore and messy, and yet the thought of him abandoning you was unbearable. And the moon saw it all.

It saw you stay each other's as long as possible. It watched you both try to hide your tears as you pulled on your clothes. It watched you fight desperately, and fail, to put your heart in words. It watched him silence you, and hold you, because you didn't have to say it. He knew. It watched you fall asleep in his arms one last time.

You opened your eyes. The gulls were crying and the pale morning sunlight was spilling over the tops of the cliffs. The sea was soft and plashing and cerulean. It was the most beautiful of the ninety-three mornings of summer. But you didn't notice - all you saw were dark lashes on the apples of soft cheeks. You watched his breath rise and fall as the sun tipped over the horizon in the east, the dew trickling down your face as salty as the sea.

When Yoongi's eyes fluttered open they met your red ones, and he pressed is forehead to yours only for a moment before pulling you up to stand.

"Get outta here," he whispered shakily, hands still clutching your arms and brow still tilted into your own.

"Come with me," you choked tracing your hands over his chest.

"I can't leave her with him."

"I know." Your fingers traced over his heart and the little bruise you knew rested under the cotton fabric.

Yoongi wept.

"Go," he whispered, squeezing your arms. You nodded weakly.

"Go, goddamn it, go!" he cried, as you shook with sobs, then he crushed his mouth against yours.

Time didn't stop, you didn't have any - so you stole every second you could.

And then you kept your promise.

You shivered as a zephyr sprang off the water to whip around you, disrupting your thoughts. You tugged at your blazer. It had been a long time since you wore a sundress with cherries.

It was time to let them go, the little girl huddled in a blanket and the boy with the bleeding lip. They had held your hands for so long. They deserved to be free. It was time to let them go, so you did.

With a deep sigh you cast one last wistful glance back over the great blue expanse as the sun sank into the sea.

The moon was just a silver slip in the sky that night, but it saw. It saw before you did, as you turned to go, the breath catching in your chest when a low, soft voice behind you asked,

"Got a light?"

-Fin-

[colormepurplex2]

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

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-07-19  ColorMePurplex2

[redcherrykook]

──────🐰 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓶.𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 !

─𐙚────🩶─────𐙚──────🩶─────𐙚─

ʚɞ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 / 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲𝘀 ʚɞ

order: newest at the bottom!<3

○ pink and pretty ( spanking)

○ see, hyung? (innocence, voyeurism)

○ spot me instead (gym scenario, jealousy)

○ private show ( lap dance)

○ delicate seashell ( beachy vibes, hotel sex)

○ midnight snack (somophilia)

○ milk and cream (subby!Jk, noona kink)

○ well rounded (big tits!reader)

○ knuckles deep (fingering; hand kink)

─𐙚────🩶─────𐙚──────🩶─────𐙚─

ʚɞ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 / my own 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁 ʚɞ

order: newest at the bottom!<3

○ JK BIRTHDAY SPECIAL! (s / f/ lingerie, vibrator)

○ brothers best friend (s/ f, cutesy pining and yearning)

○ romance novel (s/f, bookworm reader, recreating a smut scene)

○ (tent)ative enemies (s/f/ e2l type, camping trip)

○ maybe next time (mutual secret pining, no dialouge)

○ flower pot (fluff, comfort)

○ working on love (f/ silce of life business party)

○ bound to a second chance (a/comfort, exes2l drabble)

○ bad boy, good girl (s/f/ , highschool sweethearts)

○ safeword (s/ comfort)

○ think i need someone older (s&f, older Bf x inexperienced reader)

○ "we havin' rich sex on a boat" (s/ rich guy JK!, sugar baby reader) TBA

○ The jeon mobile (f/ friends 2 lovers, idol AU ft BTS) TBA

・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・❥・

visit my kinktober masterlist!

... or my series masterlist!

[hannieehaee]

OUTTA MY MIND

18+ / mdi

summary: getting a brand new job as a senior idol's manager was scary enough on its own, but it became even worse when said idol was jeon jungkook, idol of all idols. what made it even worse? when jungkook began taking a special liking to you, damning any conflict of interest his crush on you may have had.

content: idol!au, staff!reader x idol!jungkook, jungkook is shameless about his crush on reader, but it's fine bc reader likes him back!!, reader acts hard to get bc her job is too important though boo, afab reader, banter, jk is a flirt, reader is a little bit shy, a lot of rlly wrong info about working in the industry, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 7.7k

a/n: my first jungkook solo writing!! i hope u guys enjoy<33 ive been into bts since 2017 idk why i never wrote about them before lol anyways hope this is a good introduction to all my future jungkook works<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Whenever you'd tell someone you worked within the entertainment industry, – the music industry, to be precise – people always showed a little extra interest in your words, probably assuming you to be involved in the flashier aspects of it. The statement on it's own sounded exciting, enigmatic even. This would only then be followed by disappointed upon finding out your specific profession of choice, deeming it less exciting than most.

You were a manager. No, you were not an active member of the entertainment industry itself, but you were one of the many pillars necessary for the talent to create the entertainment people would always seek.

Being as young as you were, it had been hard to get to where you were so quickly. Networking had been your best friend all throughout your career, eventually landing you in your current role – one that would only open even more doors for you.

It had only been a week since you had received a call from your friend – an old friend from an internship who just so happened to be a former Hybe video producer – letting you know of a recent opening as one of the many managers at the company. Having been between gigs at the time, you jumped at the chance without a second thought. Hybe? The biggest entertainment company in Korea? You didn't need any details before agreeing.

It was a few days later in which you found out the details. The opportunity had been even more life-altering than you'd thought.

Originally, you had believed you'd end up becoming manager to one of the many brand new rookie groups in the growing company. With so many surging youth in the industry, it made sense to you that you'd be assigned such a role, not having had any prior experience within Hybe itself.

Except that wasn't the case. Having previously worked and interned at a few other South Korean entertainment companies through the years, it seemed like Hybe deemed you experienced enough to assign you the role of becoming a senior artist's manager.

Jeon Jungkook.

Senior artist had been an understatement. Those had been the words written in your contract, explaining your role in excruciating detail, yet failing to mention that your client would be Korea's most popular singer.

You couldn't lie, you were insanely intimidated by your new role. Despite being proudly skilled at your job, becoming the manager of an idol who had been in the game for longer than you'd even been out of college was a bit scary. Jungkook had gone from the absolute bottom to the top, he had most likely lived through it all by now – what kind of expertise could you offer someone who had already seen it all?

Being manager of an idol differed slightly from managing any other person. Idol companies usually handled the schedulings, bookings, and the legalities of their artists. As a manager, you somewhat took the role of a bodyguard. You were meant to show up everywhere Jungkook went and become his spokesperson – vying for him as if your life depended on it.

And now it was too late to back out – not that you actually wanted to. All paperwork had been signed, you had your own personal Hybe badge and all the benefits that came along with working at the company. Any feelings of intimidation or fear for the role would have to be put aside as you walked into the Hybe building to meet with your new client; the boy you'd have to stick by 24/7 from now on.

You weren't sure what you were expecting upon meeting him. It wasn't like there would be any special introduction, or even as if you were his sole manager; no, he actually had a few others who would occasionally aid him in the absence of his main manager, which was now you. Today was a workday for him, meaning that he likely already had a few people in supportive roles as he did whatever it was that Jeon Jungkook did while working.

Walking into the huge building, after getting lost a few times, you made your way to the seventh floor, which, as you'd been informed, had various rooms designated for photoshoots. That's where you'd find Jungkook for the first time, presumably having one of the many shoots scheduled for this week.

Having possession of his schedule made you realize how busy idol life was. Despite having no public schedules all this week, he had a packed itinerary, filled with either shoots or signings or producing sessions. You hadn't even met him yet, but you were already assured that he was overly hardworking – and you had maybe also stalked him online this past week.

It was very unlikely you'd even speak to him, seeing how busy he was. Your duty, after all, was just to be one of the many members of his team, taking care of any logistics as you went around with him, but not taking away from his time by socializing with him.

Upon entering the room, he was the first thing you noticed. Ignoring every other person working the room, your eyes focused specifically on him. It was hard not to, since he was quite literally standing under the spotlight, modeling for a camera. But it was more than that. He had an aura that filled up the room. Putting aside every stylist and photographer in the room, every staff member and intern, he was truly the epitome of main character.

Fuck. Was this going to cause trouble?

Admittedly, you had found him attractive all previous times you'd come across the name Jeon Jungkook whilst working in this industry, but that attraction did not go further than seeing it as an objective fact. You had never had any interest in artists outside of for work-related reasons, so you only knew him by name. Yet now, seeing him in person, it was a while other story.

It wasn't until the director gave Jungkook the green light to take a break that you first made eye contact with the boy. It appeared as if he had also noticed you immediately upon your entrance, as his eyes had gone straight from the camera onto yours. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part.

To your absolute surprise, his eyes stayed on you, lighting up when he realized you were staring back at him. Even more surprisingly, that's when he began walking towards you, a bright smile on his face as he approached you.

"Hey! You must be Y/N! It's really nice to meet you," he bowed at you when he reached you, bunny teeth still sticking out in a smile.

"Oh, I- Thank you! It's nice to meet you too, Jungkook," you managed to get out, bowing awkwardly. You were surprised at him even knowing your name. Was he on a first name basis with his staff? That was crazy to imagine considering how many people he must work with on a daily basis.

"Today's your first day, right?"

"Yeah, hah, is it that obvious?", for some reason you were at a loss of words, not having expected to even speak to Jungkook at all today.

His eyes widened as his head shook in negation, almost as if he believed to have genuinely insulted you by assuming it was your first day.

"Not at all! I know it might look kind of hectic, but I swear you get used to it pretty quick," he assured, giving a quick once-over to his surroundings.

Your eyes left him in favor of eyeing the room, noticing how everyone continued to work on separate tasks as Jungkook spoke to you. Too many tasks were being performed all at once, yet there was some sort of synergy to it all. It seemed far too fast paced for you, but Jungkook seemed to get the rhythm of it all by now.

"Has anyone given you a tour yet?" he asked, making your eyes go back to him.

"Oh, no. But it's fine. I only got lost a few times on the way here. I'll get used to it," you reassured. You had been given an overall overview of the premises, but you were yet to explore the entirety of the place. It was likely unnecessary, considering the size of the building.

Jungkook's eyes widened once again. Jesus, his eyes were gigantic. He seemed shocked at no one having taken the time to show you around.

"What? No tour?? I can't have that. I'll have to take you in one after this."

"What- No! It's fine, Jungkook. I'm sure you have more pressing things to get to. I mean, I have your schedule, I know you have a packed day. I'll just-"

"None of that. I have more control over my schedule than it might seem," he chuckled, "so you don't have to worry about that. It'll be a nice way for us to get to know each other."

The following five minutes or so were taken up by your consistent, yet polite, refusal to his offer, not wanting the talent himself to feel like he had to work his schedule around you. These refusals were met by even more insistence. He was overly charismatic and likable (on top of extremely cute), so it was a lost battle from the start. There was no way you could deny him in the end.

His break ended soon after, forcing his conversation with you to be interrupted. With an exaggerated groan and a lighthearted eye roll, the boy went back to posing, sending you a friendly wink when he was finally back in action in front of the camera.

As a true professional, he got back in the zone very quickly, taking on the form of a model as he followed the director's directions to a T. You continued watching him from afar, easily getting entranced by how good he was at his job. Being too distracted by him (as he kept sneaking glances towards you), you almost forgot to make the rounds around the room and introduce yourself to his other staff.

After about twenty minutes or so of conversing with his other staff (who all had nothing but positive things to say about the boy), things began to quiet down. The director announced that he had everything he needed and things began to get packed up as people left one by one. As everyone left, Jungkook made sure to express his gratitude to each team involved, even personally bidding goodbye to some staff he seemed a bit more familiar with. By the end of it, only a few people were left as Jungkook finally approached you.

Once again, the boyish smile was on his face, almost as if he specifically excited to talk to you. But that was just wishful thinking.

"So, about that tour?"

"You really don't have to-"

"Are we really gonna go over this again?", he groaned humorously, "Please let me show you around. It's the least I can do if I'm gonna make you attend all my schedules," he insisted once more.

"Fine, okay. You wore me down, Jungkook."

With a kiddish yet sarcastic fist bump to the sky in victory, Jungkook gestured for you to follow him and began leading the way out of the room, ready to show you the building.

~

"So, how are you liking Hybe?", he asked after a while of walking around the endless building.

Jungkook was a great guide. He was extremely talkative, so no question was left unanswered. Even before you were able to inquire about certain part of the building, he was already giving you a response, even being able to start a brand new subject of conversation every time.

"Well, it's kinda my first day. But it's nice. Just, uh, maybe a little intimidating," you admitted, walking side by side with the boy.

"Intimidating? Is it cause of me?", he tilted his head to the side with curiosity.

"Maybe," you winced, hoping he didn't take it to heart. You knew it must've been annoying for people to put him in a pedestal, but it was kind of hard not to, especially upon barely meeting him.

"It's okay. I'm not as intimidating as my fame may make me seem. Most people think I'm pretty nice, actually-"

"No, it's not like that! I know you're nice, I, uh, I looked you up before accepting the job. It's just," you paused to gesture at your surroundings, "I've never worked at such a huge company, managing one of the biggest artists in the country. I ... I don't wanna mess it up," you admitted.

He slowed down his walking at this, turning to face you better as both your movements lessened in speed.

"You won't trust me. I, uh, I actually chose you specifically. You know, to be my manager."

That took you by surprise.

Jungkook knew who you were? He picked you? It's not like you had anything to your name, just a few managing gigs here and there, along with endless internships from your school years. Why would he have picked you from what you assumed must've been a pool of tenured professionals at this?

"What do you mean you picked me? Did you-"

He shrugged, the speed of his steps still slow as he focused more on conversing with you, tour of the company fully put aside.

"They asked me for my input, since, you know, we're gonna be spending a lot of time together. I saw you on the list. You were my age and your cover letter made you sound so sincere and excited," he explained, "You were also pretty cute ...", he muttered in a cough before continuing, "I just wanted someone I could be friends with. And I think I made the right choice."

You chuckled, "Yeah? How can you be so sure?"

"I can tell that you like me," he grinned, "We're gonna be besties in no time."

His hand bumped yours as he said this, lightheartedly making contact with you. It was hard to gauge whether he was just overly charismatic or if he had been genuinely hitting on you all this time. All you knew was that if he kept it up, you'd probably end up actually falling for him.

Humoring him, you absentmindedly bumped your hand into his own too, rolling your eyes jokingly as he grinned even bigger at you.

Yeah, you were going to get close in no tome.

It had been two months. Two months since you started your job. Two months since you met Jungkook. Two months since you'd been right – you did fall for Jungkook.

It wasn't as dramatic as it sounded. You were pretty sure this was just an innocent crush. One that most people in Jungkook's vicinity probably had to battle on a day to day basis.

Innocent civilians could not be blamed for the natural effect Jeon Jungkook just had on people. He was handsome, funny, charming, and he was also a flirt. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like he reserved that last trait for you and you only.

Through the weeks, Jungkook was not shy to show his special interest in you. He'd seek you out constantly, always making you stick to his side – which was your job, but still! There was always a sense of something more behind his actions. As he had said, you two became friends quickly, but just as quickly, you had become one of the closest people to him within his staff.

He'd make conversation with you, constantly migrating to your side the moment he got a short break from whichever schedule you were currently at. He'd go as far as interrupting your work just for some of your attention. In short, he was driving you insane.

Walking far too close to you in the hallways, he'd question "Where to next?", with a smile, walking side by side with you while putting his entire attention on you.

And now, you were currently overseas with Jungkook, accompanying him for some solo recordings while the rest of his members worked on their own stuff. It was a small team of people, which was quite unusual for a member of the biggest group in the world. Since it was an unofficial schedule that only Jungkook would be attending to, only the closest members of his team were really necessary. This meant you and a few others.

The situation had started off pretty much okay. One of the requirements for your position had been to become a translator for Jungkook in any situation he ever needed. That had been unnecessary so far, as you had been in Jungkook's home country these past few weeks of work. Now that you were in America, however, Jungkook sought you out even more, claiming you must attend to every outing with him in order to help him in case he needed a better understanding.

You didn't know Jungkook too well yet, but, you were aware that after so many years in the industry, he knew enough English to get by. This was simply yet another excuse of his to keep you close. When you lightheartedly confronted him about this, his response was to stare down at you with his gigantic doe eyes and pretend as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

"English? What's that?" his head had tilted to the side, cutely feigning confusion and giggling when you broke out into an annoyed smile.

On top of joining him any time he went out for leisure (under the false vice of translating), he had also insisted you accompany him to the occasional dance practice he'd attend while in America. Your presence in this instance was completely unnecessary, but you still did not question it. Nor did you question why you were the only person he insisted on bringing along. His other managers? Nowhere to be found. As time passed by in Los Angeles, less and less people would accompany you and Jungkook on his outings – whether they be for leisure or work. It had now fallen down to Jungkook, his bodyguard, and you.

"C'mon, don't you want to see me dance? I'll buy you a meal afterwards, pinky promise," he'd hold his pinky up to you with a boyish smile, knowing you wouldn't deny him.

Anytime Jungkook would discreetly hit on you or fluster you with his attention, you'd simply laugh it off or play into it just the right amount. It wasn't like you didn't enjoy it. His decided infatuation with you gave you butterflies that had you kicking your blanket late at night when you'd think back to how much he must've liked you.

You were entirely aware that he knew you liked him back also. You never said it, nor did you ever return his flirting, but you knew that he knew. Any rebuttals or instances in which you told him to chill (jokingly, of course) were just covers you'd put up. The nerves about actually acknowledging his feelings always stopped you in your tracks, leaving you the lone option of just giggling along to him or rolling your eyes (depending how cheesy he was being).

Jungkook loved your back and forth, you could tell. He enjoyed when you'd jokingly tell him off for his sickly flirtatious demeanor or when you'd simply banter with him. It was likely just a motivator for him to keep going, naturally knocking down your walls one by one as time passed.

The camel's back had broken one week after your arrival in LA, when Jungkook finally decided to take things further, now inviting you over to his hotel room after what were assumed to be work hours. The excuse? He wanted to go over next week's schedule. Both you and him were fully aware he simply wanted to hang out, but the lines were beginning to blur.

"Hey," he welcomed you with a smile when you came knocking on his door, leaning against the frame before gesturing at you to come in.

"Hi, Kook," you walked in, unsure of what to do after making it past his door.

"You can take a seat while I get us some drinks," he gestured to the hotel room couch and walked over to the mini fridge in the living room.

"Drinks? Thought we were debriefing next week's schedule?", you asked with a teasing tone, reclining back into the couch.

"Oh, yeah, the schedule, for sure," he responded in a completely unserious manner.

Approaching you again with drinks in hand, he sat on the same couch as you, leaving a small distance between the two of you to create a more casual environment.

Handing you your drink, he chuckled before even being able to speak.

"Have I been obvious enough or should I try harder?", he asked, sipping his beer.

"Jungkook ..."

"C'mon, it's been a few months. You already know I like you, right? You have to know by now. Are you really not gonna reciprocate at all?", he pouted, "I know you like me back."

"What makes you so confident?"

"You haven't once told me to fuck off," he grinned, leaning back against the couch in complete relaxation.

"I can't do that, I work for you," you rebutted.

"Hah! Please, I know that wouldn't stop you. You might've been a little shy when we first met, but I know by now you would've told me to get fucked if you weren't interested."

He had a point. There had been a few instances in which you did, quite literally, tell him to get fucked. It was always in jest, of course, but you knew that if you ever turned down his flirting, he'd tone it down without question.

Of course you never wanted his flirting to stop. You had found a new source of energy within yourself any time Jungkook would shamelessly shower you with attention. Despite being discrete about it, never being direct with his flirting, he still gave you the same undivided attention any boy with a crush would. It made you feel giddy and wanted. Yet it also made you worry for what may come of acknowledging his interest further than you already had.

You laughed along with him and entertained his banter for a while, following along with his flirting as the two of you drank with one another, eventually arriving to a tipsy state. He drank like a sailor while you only nursed a few drinks, yet somehow reaching a similar level of drunk.

"Are you ever gonna answer my question? I already know the answer, I just want to hear it from you," his original question in regard to your feelings did not circle back until now, catching you off guard yet again.

"Jungkook ..."

He scoot closer to you, "Come on, it's just us. You know what they say – acceptance is the first step."

"If you already know I like you, why do you keep asking?", you groaned, taking yet another swing of your third drink of the night.

"Aha! You do like me," he pointed at you as if he had made the grand discovery.

"Jungkook!"

Raising his hands, he relented, "Sorry, sorry. I'm just excited to hear it. Can you blame me? I've been trying to get you to flirt back for months."

"I don't have the same liberties as you, I'm your subordinate, it'd be inappro-"

"Inappropriate? Not any more inappropriate than me hitting on you every day since we met."

"Inappropriate, exactly," you scoot further away, "which is why you should stop."

He scoot closer again, this time even more so.

"I like you, you like me. Why should either of us stop?"

"I work for you. Yeah, you can flirt with me, but-"

"But what? Come on, don't reject me before I've even asked you out. At least let me have that much," he insisted, knowing he was wearing your false rejection down.

You sighed, twisting your body so you'd now be facing him fully on the couch, "Okay, fine. Go ahead."

He twisted too, now fully facing you. He took a deep breath and put down his drink, "Let me take you on a date? Please?", he pleaded with a shy smile.

"Can I say no?"

"I mean, you can, but I'll just keep insisting," he giggled, making you groan exaggeratedly.

With a fake sigh of defeat, you accepted, "Fine. You can take me out. But if you're as annoying as you were today, then I don't think it's going to work out."

"Yah! I'll be the perfect gentleman. Just you wait."

After a few more drinks, Jungkook insisted on walking you back to your room, – despite the fact that it was just next door – sheepishly asking if he could kiss your cheek goodnight, to which you responded with a kiss on his cheek of your own and a hug goodbye. Through your peephole you could see a very adorable Jungkook scrunch up his nose and smile to himself in contentment at the night's outcome.

Going to sleep with this insane sense of giddiness had been almost impossible. Your mind kept going back to the pretty boy who had insisted yet and yet again for the chance to simply go out with you. The back and forth this past few months had wore you down immensely, and last night had just thoroughly hammered you in.

You weren't entirely sure of the logistics of the date just yet. How were you to go out with Jungkook when he was so insanely popular? People were already aware of his current stay in Los Angeles, as he had been spotted a few times. They were also aware of your presence, though people already knew of your role and had grown accustomed to seeing you with Jungkook without questioning it.

Going to any usual dating spot with him alone would still prove catastrophic, however. Even if people knew you were nothing more than a manager, a one-on-one outing at a place usually meant for couples would be an instant giveaway, so it was entirely out of the question.

Surely the hopeless romantic that was Jungkook already had something planned, so you likely didn't have to worry your head over it. For now, you could simply wait for Jungkook's next unpredictable act of affection towards you with a racing heart.

~

The following day, you found yourself waking up earlier than usual, having been awoken by incessant knocking on your door that you had not expected. It was 9AM, so not too early, but today was meant to be a day off for everyone on Jungkook's team, including him. It was obvious to you who could be the culprit behind the knocking, but it didn't make it any less strange, especially considering Jungkook never had a tendency of waking up early unless it was for work.

Marching to your door in annoyance, you swung it open without any need to check who was on the other side, knowing you'd encounter the same doe-eyed boy you had kissed goodnight just a few hours ago.

"Jungkook, what the hell are you doing here so early?", were the first words out of your mouth.

He was already fully dressed, donning his usual black attire and carrying two drinks from what you knew was a local coffee shop – with one of them being your drink of choice, because of course Jungkook would have it memorized.

He grinned at you, placing your drink on your hand and smiling even harder when you sipped it.

"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind about the date," he wasn't actually here for that reason, obviously, but it was still cute of him to use it as an excuse.

"And if I have?"

"Don't say that, I'll cry."

You laughed, leaning against your door as you sipped your drink once more, "So, have you decided what we're doing?"

He shook his head, "Nope, can't tell you. That's top secret. All you can know is that you should be ready tonight at 7 sharp and to wear something nice but comfortable," he blushed a little before continuing, "maybe that pretty sundress you wore the other day?", his eyes left you to shyly look at his shoes for a moment.

Fuck, he was far too cute.

You pretended to ponder for a bit before agreeing, "Okay. I think I can manage that."

Letting out a tiny little "yes!", he looked to you again, noticing your pajamas, "I'll let you sleep in since I kinda kept you up all night, but I'll be back, okay? You can keep your expectations as high as you want, I'll meet them all," he said confidently.

"Oh? Okay, let's see if you can swoon me then," you accepted the challenge before receiving a shy yet short hug goodbye and heading back into your room, aware you'd be unable to go back to sleep with all the anticipation you felt for your date.

Things had already changed drastically between you and Jungkook and it had only been a few hours since his official confession about his crush (along with your reciprocation). He was touchier and more open with his affections, even becoming a little sheepish now in contrast to how bold he used to be. Now that the cards were all on the table, it was harder to even look at each other without blushing. It felt like a giddy high school crush, and you were already enjoying it far too much.

~

"Fuck, you look gorgeous," Jungkook breathed out the second you opened your door, "Sorry, was that too much?," he chuckled sheepishly afterwards.

Ignoring the blush threatening your cheeks, you shook your head and smiled, "Thank you, Kook. You look ... you look really handsome," you went on a whim and placed your hands on his jacket, enjoying his own shy smile at your compliment.

You made small talk as you walked down to take Jungkook's private car, sitting side by side in the back as the driver took off.

"So, where are you taking me?", you asked again.

He tsk'd, "No patience in that head of yours, huh? Relax. It's private and comfortable. You'll have fun, I promise. Just let me surprise you."

"Fine," you sighed in feigned annoyance, leaning back into your seat. Jungkook followed and leaned back also, face turned to stare at you.

"Would it be too forward to say I already want to take you home?", he asked.

"Stop," you groaned, "Don't say that, you already wore me down into going on a date, give me time to breathe."

"Are you saying I could wear you down into letting me take you home?", he smiled.

"Anyways," you rolled your eyes, making him chuckle.

The rest of the ride was filled by your usual banter, making the date entirely too casual thus far. It felt like a regular outing with a friend, plus the added butterflies you felt any time his eyes would scrunch up whenever you made him laugh. How handsome he looked also did not help matters. He had changed out of the casual clothes he had on this morning, opting for a casual yet elegant look that consisted of his usual chunky boots and a black blazer. It was very much a usual look for him but he somehow looked extra good tonight.

Fastforward to the date itself and you found yourself in what was supposed to be a private restaurant A-listers in LA would frequent. It allowed for the utmost privacy and served the most famous of people. The atmosphere of the place was casual enough for you to be able to sit yourselves, but it was still packed with security and high-end waiters making the rounds. Being there as a mere manager felt almost illegal.

Jungkook held your hand as he guided you to a secluded booth in the back, opting to sit next to you rather than across you, something you found really cute of him.

"Do you like it?", he asked after a few moments of sitting.

You nodded, "Do I even wanna know how much this place costs?", you asked as you took in your surroundings.

"Yeah, no," he laughed, "Don't think about that. It's all on me. You being here is more than enough," he reassured, reaching over to take your menu before you could get to it, "I'll cover the prices, okay? I want you to order anything you want."

Cute, handsome, funny, into you, and also such a gentleman? You were not to survive even the first date.

"Order for me?", you suggested, knowing he was a foodie at heart and would likely order the perfect meal for you.

And he did. Unsurprisingly to everyone, he picked the perfect meal and side dishes and drinks and even desserts. The meal was amazing and completely relaxed. The conversation was never-ending, allowing for no awkward lulls or forced small talk. Jungkook had been right all those months ago, you did become very good friends. It made you wonder if he had liked you from all the way back then.

"What are you looking for in a relationship?", asked Jungkook after a few drinks, already cozied up with you in the booth.

"That's very forward for only two bottles of soju," you joked.

"C'mon, you can tell me. I won't tell," he whispered childishly, leaning closer to you with genuine interest in his eyes.

You straightened up before responding, "I guess I want something serious. No hookups or anything like that, just ... just someone nice to spend my time with."

"Hey, that's kind of what I am already, huh? I'm nice and we spend most of our time together."

You chuckled, taking a swing of your drink before returning the question, "What about you? What are you looking for in a relationship?"

"You," he deadpanned, giving you a dopey smile.

You couldn't help giggle at that, scrunching up your face at how much of a flirt he was.

He grabbed onto your chin and made you look at him, completely halting your laugher, "I'm serious," he started, "I've been wanting to ask you out since forever, but I knew I'd be putting you in an awkward position with your job. But I don't care about that anymore. I know you like me, and I like you – so fucking bad. Give it a chance? Please?", he pleaded as he stared down at you, eyes fleeting to your lips for one quick moment.

Your breath caught in your throat, making you freeze and gulp before being able to respond to the confession you'd been expecting, yet were not prepared for.

"Jungkook ... Take me home?"

"F-fuck," he groaned, "do you know how long I waited to have you?", his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake, "thought about this every day ... How pretty you'd look pressed up against me ... So fucking pretty," he panted.

Jungkook had dragged you off the booth the moment you suggested for a change of scenery, directing the driver to get the two of you to the hotel as soon as possible. Once at the hotel, Jungkook rushed you to your floor, having already had to hold back during the entirety of the drive back. Even in the elevator, your usually lighthearted Jungkook was missing and replaced by an agitated version of him.

The first thing he did upon unlocking the door to his room as push you against it, closing it back up in the process and liberally letting his lips trail down your neck.

"Kook ..."

"Have I ever told you how much I love the way you say my name? God, just everything about you," he trailed his way back up, hands still on your waist and fingers digging into your skin.

His lips leaned down into yours, almost kissing you but not yet, "I know it's kinda late to ask, but can I kiss you?", he whispered.

Your nod was nothing short of desperate, lips almost chasing his won before he finally connected them to yours.

His kiss was as soft as his hold on your waist, and the sigh he let out against your lips was only a ghost of the passion he felt for you. His lips guided your own, with his tongue licking your mouth open and invading it in a sensual entanglement between your tongues.

It was hard to think clearly with the pretty moans he let out against your lips, almost as if you were gifting him the utmost pleasure with the mere touch of your lips. Hands became braver and breaths became heavier, leading to a mess of ruffling clothes and gasps filling up the silence of the room. You melded into each other, refusing to let your lips separate nor prevent your hands from exploring one another. His hands made it under the skirt of your dress, liberal in the way he felt up your add and pressed you up against him. In the meantime your hands threw off his blazer and began unbuttoning his shirt, feeling up his strong chest in the process.

"Let me take you to my room? Fuck, I- I can't think. Just wanna have you so fucking bad," he mumbled into your lips, groaning when you refused to stop kissing him as he spoke.

You nodded, not trusting your voice and allowing him to guide you to his room by the hand.

Once in his room, he laid you down softly, letting you sit up as he took off his remaining clothes, eyes encouraging you to do the same. His eyes widened when he realized what you'd been wearing under the dress he'd requested, clearly caught off guard by the pretty set you had chosen for him.

It wasn't all that, simply a matching lacy bra and panties that you'd packed before coming to LA. Clearly Jungkook didn't care about the quality of the set, or at least that's the impression his eyes gave you as they stayed glued to your chest, halting his movements as he took his shoes off.

"Oh ...", he breathed before making his way to you on the bed, "For me?", he asked as his hand went down to lightly run his fingers across the strap.

"Mhm," you nodded, getting up from the bed and putting your hand on his shoulders, eyeing up his toned chest and tracing his tattoos, "Do you like it?", you looked up and made eyes at him.

"Fuck, don't do that. You can't look like that and then look at me like that and think I won't fucking burst," he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist once again, "Can I touch you, pretty? Hmm?"

Nodding again, you led his hands to your breasts, letting out a breath when his hands began feeling you up, going from your breasts to your hips to your ass while his mouth made its way back to yours. He freely moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your body under his hands, walking you back onto the bed and lying you down once more.

His hands were hesitant in reaching the clasp of your bra, to which you responded by humming a soft 'please' into his lips. The removal of your bra caused him to pull away for you as his eyes got a fill of you, groaning yet again at the sight. His hands went to your breasts again, feeling them up as his lips trailed down to your tits. Jungkook's groans of pleasure at the feeling of your bare skin against his lips were never-ending. You fed into it, arching against his lips and running your hands through his hair. It wasn't like he needed any encouragement; his eyes told you of every bit of lust he felt.

"I want you so fucking bad," he murmured against your tits, "I can't even think ... Just want you so bad. Haven't been able to stop thinking about you for months," his lips suckled at your nipple once more before reaching your ear, breathing heavily against it, "Tell me I can fuck you, please. Just need- need you so fucking bad."

Pulling him to your lips by the his hair, you moaned your desire for him into his mouth, pleading at him to get on with it.

"Fuck me. How do you want me? I'll- Fuck, just-"

"I know, pretty. I'll take care of it, okay? Just ... Want you just like this. Wanna see you while I fuck you, okay? Let me-", his hands reached to your panties, seemingly meaning to finger you before you stopped him.

"No, Jungkook, just fuck me. Please? I'm wet enough, I swear. Just need you. Now," you pleaded at him.

He shook his head, tutting at you, "Baby, at least let me eat you out? Gotta stretch you out a little. Swear I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, but shit ... Need to taste you," he rambled before getting on his knees, pulling your legs apart and towards the edge of the bed.

"Fuck ... Always wanted to kiss up these thighs," he breathed as he ran his nose up and down the sensitive skin, leaving a few airy kisses along the length of them, "So soft and pretty."

Slowly yet sensually, he made his way to your cunt, pressing his nose against your panty-covered pussy and taking a deep breath, shamelessly capturing your essence. Ignoring your scandalous whine, he pushed your panties aside and stuck his tongue inside, groaning at the taste of you.

"Baby ... Fuck, how am I ever gonna function without this pretty pussy ever again?", he murmured into you, tongue digging deep inside you as he took turns sucking and licking at you. His nose made an appearance eventually, rubbing deliciously against your clit while your hands pulled at his hair, pushing your hips up against his face.

"Yes, fuck, keep grinding on my face, baby. Use me," he pleaded, almost crying into your cunt.

Jungkook was already an expert in your pleasure, damning everything else in favor of optimizing your pleasure in every way. He let you pull at his hair and grind on his face, somehow never running out of breath as he ate you out with a desperation that had your nails digging far too harshly into his hair – something that had him moaning against you.

Once finished, he licked up every drop of your essence, humming in pleasure at the taste and even coming up to let you suck on his tongue, sharing your own honey with you.

"Kook ... Fuck me. God, I need- need you so bad. Please," you pleaded into his mouth despite not pulling away from his kiss.

"Fuck, okay, yeah. I- I'll fuck you," he finally pulled away and pulled down his boxers, reaching over to his pants on the floor to get a condom from his wallet.

"Oh? You were ready for this?" you grinned at him mockingly.

"Baby," he whined, letting his head fall to your chest in bashfulness, "Don't do this right now. Just let me make you feel good. You can make fun of me all you want after."

"Okay, Kookie. Now, hurry up!", you reached down to his ass, squeezing it jokingly as he let out a scandalized noise and lightly nibbled at your tit in retaliation.

Finally, he put on the condom as you slipped off your panties all the way and throwing them off. He was soft yet shy in his movements as he teased your slit with his cock, playing with the wetness and groaning at the warmth wrapping around the head of his cock. He checked in on you constantly throughout, kissing at your cheek every so often as he bottomed out.

"Feels so good, pretty. Fuck ... gorgeous girl. Knew you were made for me," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer as he began to thrust.

His words of encouragement didn't end there, letting out every emotion he felt towards you all while you whined his name and raked your nails down his back.

"Always wanted you ... You have no idea how much I like you,"

"Sweetest girl, and all for me ... Oh, fuck- feel so good wrapped around me,"

"You take it so good ... Feel so fucking good and look so fucking pretty. How could I ever resist you?"

"Need you so bad, fuck. Need you every day,"

His praise was never ending, rendering you a mess both physically and emotionally as your feelings for him burst in the form of cries of his name and mumbled reciprocations of his feelings.

"I need you to cum with me, gorgeous. Okay? Let me just- Yeah, right there, huh? That's the spot?", he murmured almost to himself as he lifted you by the legs and began hammering his hips against that one spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling back. One of his hands eventually joined the mix, thumbing at your clit slowly yet harshly enough to make you gasp at the intensity of the sensation.

"Gonna cum, Kook. Cum with me? P-please?," you cried out for him.

"I'm right there, baby. Just cum with me. Like you so fucking much," he couldn't help but let out yet another expression of his feelings as his orgasm took over him, taking you right along with him.

"Like you t-too. S-so much!", you cried before practically blacking out.

Hips continued to grind against each other as your highs hit you, creating a symphony of skin slapping desperately and high-pitched whines coming from the two of you.

Jungkook almost fell limp against you when his high finally wore down, breathing heavily into your chest before rolling to your side, holding your trembling form against him.

"Was that a good first date?", he asked after catching his breath.

You laughed at the complete change of subject, "Maybe. I'm still expecting you to outdo it for the second one," you turned your body to his own, nuzzling against his chest.

You could feel the vibration of his chest as he chuckled a response, "Oh? I earned a second one?"

"Shut up before I change my mind."

"Yes, ma'am."

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to read short 1.8k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:  afab reader, smut,  semi-public sex, reunion sex, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 597 (teaser); 1877 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Kook! Stop being so touchy!," you whined when you finally found yourself alone with him.

He ignored you at first, opting to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his head into your hair with a satisfied hum.

"But why, baby?", he huffed.

He thought he was so cute when he played dumb.

"No one in the staff can know we're dating. It's like you want me to lose my job," you groaned, reciprocating his gesture against your better judgment.

"Baby, I'm your boss, and I have no plans of firing you, so what's the problem?", he ran his nose up and down your neck, breathing you in softly.

"Still. Sleeping with my boss just gives off a bad image."

"Everyone already knows I have a crush on you anyway, what's the harm?", he whined.

"Kookie ...", you groaned.

"Hmm, love when you call me that, baby," he giggled against you, waddling from one side to the other as he walked you over to the wall, pressing you up against it in a surprisingly innocent manner.

After yet another 'subtle' public display of affection he had decided to engage in whilst recording for a new brand deal, you had dragged Jungkook over to an empty dressing room during a break, deciding to put a stop to his behavior before it went too far.

You had only been dating for a few months by now, becoming exclusive almost immediately after that first date. However, despite the exclusivity and the age of your relationship, you had demanded that Jungkook keep it under wraps when it came to work. The only people aware of your relationship could be counted on one hand (maybe two), including his members, family, a few close friends and your own loved ones. Other than that, not even the company was privy to your new relationship.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed like your boyfriend was on a mission to let everyone know about your relationship, always sending you suggestive looks or sticking to you in a manner usually reserved for couples.

Most people in Jungkook's team already knew of his touchy demeanor (and of his very obvious flirtatious tendencies when it came to you), but you knew that you'd be in trouble if you ever reciprocated. Having such a cute boy blatantly show interest in you proved hard, as you had to control yourself in front of everyone else any time he decided to cause trouble for you.

"C'mon, baby. We're alone now. There's no one to see what I wanna do to you," he smirked into your neck, beginning to trail kisses along its length.

His grabby hands stayed on your hips, occasionally sliding up your waist and under your shirt to feel the warmth of your back. Not-so-innocent touches were beginning to arise, making you conflicted since you were technically still in your company's premises at the moment.

Pressing your hands into his chest, you made a lame and effortless attempt at pushing him away, your heart not truly in it as you allowed him to keep his hands on you, "Kook, we're still at work!"

"We're practically done! I did my part, it's just the guys who need to get their shoots done. I could literally disappear right now and no one would notice. It's okay, baby," he reassured, wrapping your hands around his waist and pulling you even closer, lips beginning to ghost your own.

"Kook ..."

"Shhh, just let me kiss you. Been holding back on kissing you all day," and those were his last words before occupying his lips with your own.

...

find 1.8k word continuation on either kofi or patreon!

[spideyjimin]

✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨

⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞

sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts

⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military

idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

meraki | jjk @taegularities

⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut

motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku

⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

fwb au

new guy | knj @kithtaehyung

⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?

smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?

into it | pjm @xpeachesncream

⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for. 

grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut

bands | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 

strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut

lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

saudade | kth @chateautae

⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae

⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

college!au, smut, pwp

fine line | jjk @soobibabe

⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

romance

hazy hours | myg @borathae

⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024

new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis

⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

smut, pwp

before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo

⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

established relationship, idol!jungkook

warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive

⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

SMUT, fluff

all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies

⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!

smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

muscle memory | knj @taegularities

⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.

establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut

magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut

⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), let’s fix that boner you left him with, and let’s soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue… it’s written in here somewhere

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.5k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: December 15, 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, that’s probably why, lol. Lucky for y’all I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. 🎁 Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ ����

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist

“Fuck me…” Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.

His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screen—maxed out in its brightness settings—is projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled display—of which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.

He is so horny he might just die if he doesn’t get off in the next five minutes. 

It’s your fault. Of course, it is.

God you’re so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.

He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closer…closer…  and that’s it.

Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)

He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 ‘cause it’d be hella annoying if he can’t get hard because his studio is an igloo.

Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.

A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and he’s off to the fuckin’ races. 

His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi. 

Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. They’re a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if they’re not hiding from him? For sure they’re puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that he’s gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until you’re falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.

He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.

Back to the photo.

Huh. You knew what you were doing—squeezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. It’s diabolical. Pure torture.

Had you been here, he’s scooping out that breast, the one you’re holding out to him, so it’s hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick. 

He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.

But he’s not there yet.

Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recalls—the way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.

Your lips—he can still taste them if he focuses hard enough—sweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.

If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. It’s like you’ve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe it’s the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch. 

The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever. 

Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality it’s he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.

You’re not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesn’t give a shit. He hasn’t had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He can’t even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because you’re so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly he’s coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck he’s still going, there’s so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.

Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.

Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real. 

Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.

AllKpop Scoop:

Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung

Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.

The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social media—each one milking it for all it was worth. 

Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldn’t resist pairing her name with “infamous idol Min Yoongi.” You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didn’t come back.

The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.

And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasn’t to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been. You’d be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You don’t know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you don’t try.

The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhere—a shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongi’s Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.

You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.

Yoongi.

You didn’t hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.

“Sarang,” he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Bro’s really starting with the buttering up.

“Where’s Han?” Was your first question.

“My parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. It’s better if he’s there for now.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. “Just answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?”

“It’s a big fuckin’ lie,” he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. “None of it is true.”

“So it’s all bullshit?”

“YES.” he replies emphatically.

The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. “Okay.”

“Okay?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t expecting you to let it go so easily.

“Yes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.” You say, firm.

A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo

See you in the next half! :)

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[atinystraynstay]

I Don't Share - Jeon Jungkook

Synopsis: Jungkook was the one that proposed you should be friends with benefits. You both were single and had desires. Falling in love wasn't a part of the plan though.

Pairing: Idol!Jeon Jungkook x Back up Dancer!fem reader

Genre: Smuttttt! Jealous, posessive Jungkook, friends with benefits - Minors DNI

Contains: public sex, mentions of eating out (f. receiving), light spanking (f. receiving), no protection vaginal sex, slight degradation, creampie, hair pulling

Word Count: 2.6k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You were given the opportunity of a lifetime. What started as a way to kill time during the pandemic quickly turned into you flying to South Korea to join BTS in their rehearsals for their Permission To Dance shows. A little over a year later, you were in rehearsals again for Jungkook's solo promotions with the release of his debut album, Golden. You didn't think your life could get better than this.

Never before would you think that your dance studio closing to meet shutdown requirements would grant you the opportunity of a lifetime. Or that you would meet the guy of your dreams.

Jungkook was around your age, so it was easy for you two to get along. You often would spend late nights going over and over the dance routine for performances and the filming of upcoming music videos. His manager would often ask if he wanted a ride home, but Jungkook would always come up with an excuse.

"No, I'm ok. I want to make sure my hyungs are proud of me when they can finally see this!" Which often made the staff smile that he wanted to make his members proud.

Another one often was along the lines of - "No, thank you though. I am just stuck on this one part of the choreography and I think I'm finally getting it down. I will call security to make sure I get home." He promised every single time to use the resources at the company, but he never did.

He always opted to take Uber rides with you. At first, it was because Jungkook liked being able to talk to someone around his age. He had a solid group of friends, but you were new. Coming from the United States, he wanted to know what it was like to be a 20-something-year-old making it work.

The two of you often shared after practices drinks and meals. "You know, we have to nourish our bodies well. Jin-hyung taught me that well."

Quickly though, his hunger turned into something else. Getting to know you, getting to watch how your hips moved with ease, he began to grow hungry for your pussy. Jungkook was a very competitive guy, and he was determined to be the best at fucking you until you see the stars. He wanted to make you cum and scream until you forgot your name, until you questioned your ability to walk after.

Meals quickly turned into eating you out at your apartment. To be fair, it was his favorite meal of the day. He loved getting down on his knees for you, spreading them wide, and exposing you to him. Only or him. He often liked to blow cool air on your pussy to watch you squirm underneath his touch.

Jungkook thrived on knowing the reaction he could pull out of you. He liked knowing you whimpered and begged for him to lick your pussy, to suck on your clit as if his life depended on it. And if you begged well, he would reward you by sliding two of his fingers into your pussy.

Dance practices weren't the only reason why he would come over. If a recording session didn't go well, you offered comfort by letting him bend you and pound into your pussy. Afterwards, you would always talk about how he was feeling but you quickly learned that Jungkook preferred letting his frustrations out physically rather than verbally at first.

There were just a few more performances left for the group. Everyone knew that Jungkook would be enlisting soon, so nobody was taking it for granted. Every dance, every member of the crew, and Jungkook himself were basically putting their all into every dance practice, dress rehearsal, and performance.

You were currently sitting criss-cross on the dance practice floor, your water bottle resting in your lap. Your thumb moved your TikTok FYP up every once in a while. There was a 30 minute break, allowing some people to go grab lunch while others were taking a minute to just relax.

"So, y/n, did you know someone here in Korea before you moved?"

There was often conversation floating among the dancers. Down time and hanging outside of practice were opportunities to get to know one another, and do a little networking. With the days narrowing down on this contract, you were beginning to consider your options. Part of you wanted to go back home, to reunite with family, but you also were having the time of your life here.

Hearing your name, you locked your phone and set it on the floor. There were a few others who joined you on the floor, in their own worlds until the current conversation started. You felt all eyes on you as the question was directed to you.

"No, I actually didn't," You laughed. A year ago, you never would have had the courage to move across the world by yourself. Being here now, you knew it was the best decision. "So a good dancer, a risk taker, beautiful," one of the male dancers began to list.

You blushed at the compliment. One thing that has changed is your struggle to accept compliments. You knew he meant well, but it didn't stop you feeling as if your face had gotten incredibly hot.

"You've got to have a partner, right? Meet someone here in Korea? I mean, Korean men know how to treat you right," he winked.

You heard one of the female dancers scuff. She rolled her eyes at his words, shaking her head towards the two of you. "Don't listen to him. Stay away from Korean men," she warned before going back to eat her salad.

"You're just upset still about your breakup," he muttered. Quickly, that was followed by a loud smack and laughter from the other members. You watched the one male rub his tender arm, apologizing to the woman to his right. Satisfied, she nodded in acknowledgement before going back to her lunch.

The male looked back at you, smiling sheepishly. "Anyways, are you single?" He asked. "You've never met up with us after practice for a quick drink."

Yeah, I normally can't go out because I'm getting railed by Jungkook after practice.

"Maybe she has a boyfriend back home?"

Decided to speak to yourself, you laughed as a way to break the conversation. Eager eyes were on you, wanting to know more about their American colleague.

"That's my bad for not showing face after practice. I normally get tired and want to go home. Sometimes I'm even here practicing a bit more just to make sure I'm as good as you all. I mean, you guys are professionals."

The group smiled wide at your kind words. You weren't sure how you'd fit in as an outsider, especially if you weren't sure if you were going to be staying or not. At the start of this job, you placed a huge amount of pressure to do well especially as you knew that so many people would do anything to be in your position. You wanted the company to be satisfied that they chose the right person.

"Well, now that it's known that we want you here. You are coming out with us tomorrow night." "Yes, you have to! We'll have to show you around the best parts of Seoul." "And hopefully get you with the best guy." "Or at least go home with the best guy."

Your cheeks turned pink again, which caused all the whole group to smile. How could life get any better?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun had already set by the time you got done with practice. Most of the group had left for the evening whereas you were packing up your duffle bag with all your belongings. While you were very much looking forward to tomorrow night, you always loved a night-in to yourself.

You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would want to come over.

"You know, you really should be leaving here by yourself," a voice called out to you.

Startled, you looked over your shoulder to see Jungkook leaning against the practice room door. Speak of the devil. You placed one hand over your chest as your racing heart began to settle, very slowly that is.

"God, you fucking scared me."

He let out a laugh before coming into the room. You only could tell how he was moving by the sound of his laughter growing louder. "Sorry, doll, I couldn't help myself," he apologized. You hummed in amusement as you had your back turned towards him, trying to get the rest of your belongings together so you could leave. Because if he was ready to go, that meant that you were to.

You felt his hand ghost over your hip. Zipping up the duffle bag, you slowly stood up straighter to feel him right behind you. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against it. You shivered from the effect and with excitement.

"You seem to really be finding your place here," he said.

His voice was very smooth. He knew the effect he had on you, how you were basically wrapped around his finger. And he used it to his advantage. You were a bit confused as to where this was coming from.

"I mean, I overheard you making plans with the other dancers. I think that's good for you." His hand gently caressed your hip, the touch light as a feather. You were almost in a trance from it all. Just feeling his body heat radiate into your back sent a wave of warmth throughout you.

"But there is one thing I do not like." You were about to look over at him, but were cut off when his grip on you tightened. He yanked you back so you could feel his boner right up against his ass. You gasped in surprise which caused him to chuckle lightly. The laugh sending shivers done your spine. "I don't like sharing, angel."

Everything happened so suddenly. One minute, you were getting your duffle bag, the next you were being pinned against the mirrors of the dance studio. Jungkook's grip was tight enough to inform you he was in charge here, but loose enough to slip out if you felt uncomfortable. Yet, his gaze locked on you told you to stay put.

His breathing was a bit rigid, sensing emotions were coursing through his body. What was on his mind? You noticed his jaw was a bit clenched, almost as if he was contemplating what he was doing or his next move.

"Let me make it clear. You are not going home with anyone else besides me. You'll always come back to me."

Oh god, he overheard your conversation earlier. It was starting to make sense.

"I'll have to remind you if that's an issue." "Then mark me up and make me yours."

Jungkook's breathing hitched hearing you. He wasn't expecting such a response from you but it made him so damn weak. God, you were the death of him.

Not one to back down, he accepted your challenge.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smack.

You whimpered loudly at the feeling of Jungkook's hand meeting your left asscheek. It was like an electric jolt. A bit painful, considering he has spanked you repeatedly throughout the evening, but also pleasurable because it made you feel alive. It honestly made you feel powerful.

Jungkook had you on your hands and knees. You were at the dance studio. You knew everyone had left but the thrill of someone potentially catching the two of you turned you on.

With one hand staying on your hip, Jungkook's other hand ran up your spine gently. His touch was still a stark contrast to the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaking pussy. Each smack against your ass caused your walls to squeeze around his cock, sending the two of you into a chorus of moans.

His hips rammed into you from behind. It created a rhythmic sound of skin slapping, the two of you moaning, and how wet you were. The last sound caused your cheeks to heat up, much to Jungkook's satisfaction.

The hand on your spine gathered your hair. You were grateful you put it in a low ponytail during practice earlier. Jungkook pulled your head, causing you to hiss in response. The sweet sting of your hair being pulled made you crave more. The sudden movement also caused your eyes to become a bit glossy. Your head tilted back as you met his in the reflection of the mirror.

"Look at you," Jungkook asked. His mouth was curled into a sinister smirk. "You're crying over my cock. Is it not enough for you, hmm? Is that why you wanna go out to meet other guys?"

"No, Jungkook, fuck," he panted out. "You're all I want, all I need." "Oh yeah? Prove it. Cum on my cock. Show me that I really am the only one that can make you feel so damn good."

If it were possible, Jungkook increased his pace. You cried out in pleasure as the intensity of his brutal thrusting caused your arms to give out. You upper half of your body rested against the cool wood floor, causing your ass to move a bit up. Jungkook groaned in appreciation for the change. He couldn't help himself. Smack.

Your mind was hazy. You couldn't comprehend anything besides Jungkook's cock filling and stretching you out. Your vision was getting blurry from the tears beginning to fall as you felt that familiar tingling, warm sensation in your stomach.

In a matter of moments, your vision went white and your toes curled. You screamed out his name. His grip on your hips could be burned into your skin. You never wanted him to stop touching you. Jungkook groaned as his thrusts got harder, determined to meet you at your high. The world around you seemed to stand still while your head was in the clouds.

After a few more thrusts, Jungkook let out a loud groan. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, which sent you into a whimpering mess at the feeling. You felt so content. He also felt content seeing some of his cum spilling out of your pussy once he began to pull out.

He swore you've never looked more beautiful. All his.

Lips were being pressed against your spine. You didn't even register that your body had sprawled out onto the wooden surface until Jungkook gently moved you. Your head rested on his chest, your back on the floor. His hand ran up and down your lower back. His other hand reached up to wipe away any of your remaining tears.

You were bringing brought down to reality. You could register the sound of you two heavy breathing, the slight tremors of your body starting to subside. With your head pressed into Jungkook's chest, you could hear his once racing heart beat begin to steady itself.

"You won't forget about me, right?" "How could I ever forget about you?"

There was a pause. Jungkook was the type to usually have a response, or do something in response to what was said to him. Not this time.

You looked up at him, concerned as you knew something was bothering him. Unfortunately, you got confirmation when you were met with his own glossy eyes.

"Look, I know a lot is going to change over 18 months. I don't care if you stay here in Korea or you go back home. I don't like sharing, y/n, so just promise not to forget about me because I'll come back to you. Every single damn time." "I could never forget about you, Jeon Jungkook. I'll be waiting for you, regardless of what happens next."

[captain-joongz]

fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

ot8/multiple members

♤ in the same class as ateez by @essenteez

◇ murphy's law by @atzfilm

alien!ateez, soulmate au

♧ into the aurora by @honeyhotteoks

idol!ateez x non-idol!reader

☆ inception by @remedyx

dragon!ateez, kings!ateez

♤ hotel california + paradise gardens by @mint-yooxgi

demon!ateez, yandere, supernatural au

◇ morning mist by @mint-yooxgi

dragon au, fated lovers

♧ deep down. by @seventhcallisto

a/b/o, idol au, 9th member au

☆ in love and lore by @shadowynn

demon!ateez, soulmates au, supernatural au

♤ dew drops at dawn by @sunmoonjune

demon!ateez, soulmates

◇ breed by @sanjoongie

alien!ateez, sexual experiments

♧ oh my *** by @ohmyamor

guardian angel!ateez

☆ first flight to hong kong by @byuntrash101

flight attendant!reader, kind of sex work, since reader gets paid

♤ circus by @lani-heart

hybrid!ateez, writer!journalist!reader

◇ wider by @seventhcallisto

9th member au, bf!ateez

♧ the best friend's code by @tenelkadjowrites

hongjoong, seonghwa x reader, best friends to lovers

☆ we ransacked the city by @tenelkadjowrites

hongjoong, seonghwa x reader, rich kids au, menaces to society united

♤ be the light by @written-in-flowers

seonghwa, hongjoong x reader, historical au, royalty au

◇ sex and embers and frost by @sanjoongie

dragon!seonghwa, san x bunny!reader

♧ between friends by @anyamaris

seonghwa, hongjoong x reader, best friends au

☆ my filthy boy by @potatomountain

bf!woo x reader x witch/hybrid!ateez, coven shenanigans

♤ compromise by @cyberpxnk

bf!seonghwa x reader x footballer!yunho, infidelity with a twist

◇ it's you by @holybibly

best friends to lovers, threesome

♧ sharing is caring by @ja3hwa

seonghwa, hongjoong, san x reader

☆ ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line) + (maknae line) by @eightmakesonebraincell

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

hongjoong x san x chan x hyunjin x juyeon x reader

kim hongjoong

◇ red by @nateezfics

established relationship, public sex, bathroom sex

♧ forbidden fruit by @nateezfics

greek mythology au, hades!hongjoong

☆ deal by @hongism

roommates to lovers, sassy joong

♤ marigold by @yoongiseesawmp3

frat boy!hongjoong, best friends to lovers

◇ tell me to stop by @tenelkadjowrites

best friends to lovers

♧ declaration by @tenelkadjowrites

virgin!hongjoong, roommates to lovers

☆ shells by @last-words-ofashootingstar

mermaid!hongjoong, yandere

♤ project d by @setsugekka

exes to lovers, infidelity, racing au

◇ off the table by @setsugekka

established relationship, morning sex

♧ the dressing room by @imaginidol

idol!hongjoong, best friends to fucking (?) for "stress relief"

☆ paint me yours by @moonseonghwa

artist!hongjoong, fwb au

♤ ohmami by @bambikisss

bad boy!hongjoong, racer au (mentioned), best friends to lovers

◇ hideaway by @minisugakoobies

stoner!frat boy!hongjoong, strangers to lovers

♧ what lies beneath by @noramoons

siren!hongjoong, a little angsty but wholesome

park seonghwa

☆ better check twice by @essenteez

accidental nude au, brother's best friend!seonghwa

♤ attention by @tenelkadjowrites

camboy!seonghwa x inexperienced reader

◇ essence by @whatudowhennooneseesyou

siren!seonghwa, dark, yandere, mommy!seonghwa

♧ the thing about pretty boys by @wonusite

friends to lovers, seonghwa proving he got it

ATEEZ rec list pt.2 BTS, TxT, Stray Kids, Seventeen, NCT rec list

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

--

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

-

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

-

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

-

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

-

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

-

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

-

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

-

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

--

masterpost

[stxrvel]

absence (1)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fangirling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

series masterlist | bts masterlist | next

You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.

Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.

Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.

He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.

In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.

Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.

Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.

They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.

You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.

It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-

“Weren't you supossed to leave?”

You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.

“Huh?”

You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.

“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”

You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.

“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.

“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”

You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.

“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”

“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”

You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.

“I had no idea about life at the time.”

Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.

“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”

You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.

“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”

You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.

You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.

You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.

Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.

Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.

You never recovered from that.

Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.

That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.

“Have you seen them yet??????”

The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.

“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”

“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”

“Wow, speak for yourself.”

“Haven't you seen theeeem?”

Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.

“God, hold still.”

Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.

Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.

“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”

Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.

“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.

Yuna let out an excited exclamation.

“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”

You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.

“We're still on business hours.”

“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.

“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”

Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.

“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”

Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.

The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.

Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...

“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.

“Their car windows were up.”

“So you saw them, right?????”

“Argh.”

You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.

“What's wrong with you?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.

“Wasn't that convention today?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Then why aren't you there?”

“Do I look like I want to be there?”

“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”

“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”

Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.

On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.

“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”

“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.

“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”

“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”

“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”

Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”

“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”

“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”

You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.

“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”

“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“y/n, please…”

“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”

“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”

“I never agreed with that!”

“Seojun told me so!”

“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”

“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”

“That was your second mistake.”

“Y/n!”

_____________________

That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.

“y/n, dear, how did it go?”

Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.

“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.

“Oh, it's teokkboki.”

Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.

“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”

You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.

Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.

With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.

How do I unclog a bath?

Do I add salt to the rice???

Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????

His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.

Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.

Ah, what a long day.

You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.

It was one in the morning!

“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”

“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”

“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”

“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”

“Well, whatever!”

You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.

“You're going to fall on your ass.”

“I'm lying down.”

“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”

Silence. Absorbing silence…

“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”

“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”

“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”

“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”

You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.

You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.

There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.

You clicked on his picture on the screen.

Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.

It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.

A description loomed between the image.

One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.

Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.

“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”

With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.

“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”

Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…

“What the fuck?”

--

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7

[strawwiibernyy]

Bitter Love - Park S.

__________________

[Bully!Sunghoon x Reader]

warnings! yandare!sunghoon, mental-physical abuse, fat-shaming, cursing, suggestive, smoking, bullying, obsessive behaviour, mentions of another idol (yeonjun), in general VERY DARK CONTENT.

words: 6k

╰┈➤ Going into high school, you kept yourself hidden, and you concentrated on your studies instead. However, you made yourself the target of the high school's most handsome boy, Park Sunghoon. His angelic appearance didn't match with his demon nature. Once he wants something, he will get it no matter what.

♪ Danger by BTS ♪

__________________

"What's up, hippo?" Small coughs left your mouth as you choked on your rice. Not again. You took ten seconds to calm down yourself before turning your head at the boy next to you. Park Sunghoon. You knew it was him by the second you heard the nickname. 

'Hippo.'

He called you like this because, according to him, you were fat. Well, not only to him if you wanted to be honest, but you didn't weight that much to be called fat. You had a normal body. 

Korean standards were harsh, especially when it came to women. Your body didn't fit. Most of the girls' bodies in your high school didn't fit. And you didn't understand why Sunghoon seemed to bully only you about it. You were his favorite toy.

"What's this?" He said, taking your chocolate cupcake from your lunch box. His eyes shined as he spun around his fingers the sweet, eager to taste it.

"Wait, my mom made it for me. Give it back!" You shouted, standing up to meet his height. However, the height difference between you two was ridiculously big. Your eyes travelled down to the floor and then back at his face. He had plastered on his usual smug smirk. Every time he embarrassed you, he would be the happiest in the world. Plus ten points if he made you tear up.

"Nah, I think I will keep it. I like cupcakes." And with that, he took a big bite from your food. The sweet that your mother baked for you and was so excited for you to taste it. You didn't want to cry in front of him. You knew he did these on purpose and enjoyed seeing you like this. Nevertheless, you weren't able to stop the tears in your eyes.

"No, don't cry!" He said between giggles once he noticed your glittery eyes. His friends behind him were already dying from laughter as they saw the first tear fall on the floor. "I am doing it for you! You eat a lot, Y/N. And if you get any fatter, none will want you."

Sunghoon licked his lips before he took another bite from the cupcake. And another one. And the cupcake was now long gone. Not knowing what to do, you chose to sit down quietly and wait till he leaves.

"Eh?" Sunghoon's eyes got wide as he looked down at your figure. Not wide from shock, but wide from anger.

"What? The fun is already over?" One of his friends, hearing in the name Jake, spoke. "Nah Sunghoon, let's go." Another one of them said, grabbing Sunghoon's shoulder. However, the black-haired boy pushed Jay's hand away.

"So you give up so easily?" Sunghoon spoke again. He was trying to play it cool, yet you noticed how his forced smirk trembled. "Stand the fuck up and go throw your trash." The cute, heart-shaped wrap from the cupcake landed on your head and then fell down on the floor. You made direct eye-contact with it, yet you didn't make any move to pick it up.

Sunghoon had started to get worried. Since he started bullying you in the first grade of high school, you always reacted. You either yelled at him, or hit him back, or his favourite; you would cry. But in your last year, you didn't even spare at him a glance.

"I am talking to y-"

"Stop!" Your only friend stood up, making her way towards Sunghoon. He had grabbed your shoulder, pushing your body from right to left. With your best friend's burst, he ripped his hand off of you.

"What?" The cafeteria was now silent. All eyes were on them. A furious Sunghoon and an even more furious Arisu. You had pleased her to not stand up against him since all the school would hate her as well. When you are being bullied by the most handsome boy in school who is also a famous model, it is normal for other girls to do not want to interrupt. None dared to disagree with him.

He had the money. He had the face. He had the fame.

He had everything.

"What is your problem with her, dude? Go find someone else to bother if you are so bored with your life!" Your head turned at Arisu, your eyes even more teary. She was a very skinny and cute girl, fitting very well the beauty standards compared to the rest of the girls in school. You were always curious why a girl as beautiful as her would want to hang out with you. And now, she was standing tall against Park Sunghoon, for your sake.

"What? Why are you the one not talking now? Talk!" While Arisu continued, you were becoming even more frightened for her. You didn't want her to experience what you have experienced in all your high school life. Not because of you.

Sunghoon looked at you, then at Arisu, then back at you. 

"Meet me after school at the roof. Don't you dare not show up." You felt his hot breath hitting your ear as he whispered those words to you, making you shiver. His hand pressing one last time onto your back before walking away. Each one of his friends following behind him like puppies. You glanced back up at Arisu who seemed even more angry from Sunghoon's ignorance.

"Hey! Hey!"

"Arisu, it's okay." You gripped her hand, not letting her move any further. Her dark brown eyes focused on your own ones, her breathing slowing down. "Thank you so much, but you didn't have to." Crystal hot tears rolled down your cheek while your overwhelming emotions got to you.

"What did he say to you?" She asked, and your body froze. Should I tell her?  "What did he say?!" She continued, and you left a deep sigh.

"He said that I should be careful. Nothing that matters. You know, one of his usual threats." Your friend nodded and sat back down to continue her meal. You weren't, though. Sunghoon's eyes were piercing your back, probably waiting to see again your crying face. You had a long time to cry.

"I am going to the bathroom for a moment and I am coming back. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

The bell rung and the students begun to run out of their classes. Loud voices filled the once empty halls, happy that this Friday finally came to an end. However, you weren't. You didn't want the last period to never end. Because now, you had to face Park Sunghoon. Alone.

You didn't tell Arisu about the meetup. Not only because she would get crazy angry and end up arguing with Sunghoon, but also because she had a date. 

Riki Nishimura from Park Sunghoon's friend group seemed to like Arisu. She was one of the few Japanese girls that the school had welcomed and Riki was quick to take an interest in her. He wasn't as bad as the rest of his friends. The opposite. He and Sunoo seemed to be two kind young men who ended up in a bad situation. That's why they hanged out mostly with each other and other people.

You were sure Arisu liked him back, even though she wouldn't admit it even to herself. The fact that he is in Park Sunghoon's friend group annoys her. Although you had ensured her that this relationship would be okay with you, she still had doubts about Riki.

"He said we should go to a new cat cafe that opened last week." Arisu told you while fixing her make-up. Her pink lip-gloss sliding across her bottom lip in such an elegant way. How badly you wished you could be as beautiful and brave as her.

"Cat cafe? I am sure you will have a great time! Don't forget to send me photos of the cats." You gave her a warm smile and in return she gave you a thump's up.

"Alright! See you on Monday!"

"See you!" The forced smile on your lips stayed firm until she was out of your view. Your waving hand dropped, and you started walking to the stairs railing. Taking the first step, you stopped your trucks.

What if I don't go? What will he do? Or what if I call a teacher? They will be able to help.

No, they won't. The principal is friends with Sunghoon's father and he goes to their house for dinner every Sunday. The only person who could support you now was yourself.

Clenching your fists, you started climbing up the stairs with strong steps. I am sure about myself. I can fight him!

And all of those motivating words faded from your mind once the cold air hit you.

You knew how this would go. A chat where you and Park Sunghoon were alone. It has happened again. Not a lot of times, but those a few times were memorable. You didn't know why, but he had this longing to touch you.

Every time he found you alone at your locker, he would throw down your stuff. Only for him to peek under your skirt when you would bend down to get them. When he did that, he would move his hips closer, feeling the thin air between your body and his.

When he would sit next to you in class, his hand would travel to your things as he gripped hard on them. He called this 'the quiet game'. The rules were that you had to be silent while his hands explored your body. His fingers felt like fire to your skin, even if you "hated" him.

He was forcing himself on you every time. And that's what exactly he did now.

"Sunghoon!" A sob escaped your mouth when you felt your back hitting the wall. His hands gripping your wrists, which were pinned at the sides of your face. You could already feel the bruises forming as he digged his nails deeper into the skin. He licked his lips, eyeing you up and down before stopping at your face.

"What's that show your friend gave?" He asked, laughing, and his left hand went to your waist.

"Stop!" You cried out while his hand started rubbing your side. Your free hand tried to push him away, but it was too weak. He quickly took it instead, placing it above your head along with the other one, letting his other hand roam around your figure.

The worst part was that you didn't actually want him to stop.

"You think you and your friend can yell at me like that? I have said to you, Y/N, multiple times. Don't you dare disobey me." From the waist, his hand rested on your left thing. Your cheeks heated up, feeling his long fingers brushing your inner thing. You tried to close the gap between your legs, but he put his hand between them. Now you were in an even worst position.

"Please Sunghoon, stop! I won't ever try to stand up to you ever again!" Sunghoon's smile got wider when he saw those tears he craved so much run down your face like a river. You were crying so much that you had wet yours and his shirt as well. You didn't want him to see you like this, but you were unable to stop yourself.

He wanted more. He needed to see more. 

He ached for your attention.

"Beg me some more and I might let you go." He let out a breathy laugh and pinched your thing. A small sound left from your lips mixed with surprise and pleasure. Wait, pleasure?

"Ahh, Sunghoon! Sunghoon, please, I will obey you! I will do whatever you want. Ah!" He seemed to love that side of you. His messed up mind enjoyed seeing you begging for his mercy. You sure repaid him for his earlier disappointment. The sounds coming out of your lips enough to drive him crazy.

Even if he bullied you, he always made sure to keep his control. However, now he had lost all of it. His hand left your things and took a hold of your left cheek. Your eyes narrowed, seeing his eyes slowly closing and his head titling to the side.

Oh, no! Your eyes got wide and more tears slipped down. No, no, no, no. You couldn't give him your first kiss!

With all the strength you had left, you turned your head to the opposite side. Anywhere away from his lips. Although your hard tries, his grip was stronger. He forced his lips on your plump ones, not giving you anytime to adjust before he forced his tongue in as well.

Tears and tears and more tears. You were sure you had wasted all of them. His free hand left your cheek and took a hold of your hip, bringing you closer to him. His head was pushing front so you wouldn't be able to turn your head as he explored your mouth with his tongue. You squirmed when he bit your lips, hard enough to draw blood.

"What is happening here?!" A stern female voice was heard and Sunghoon pulled away. The short teacher in front of you seemed furious until the student that was currently making out with a girl ended up being Park Sunghoon.

"Ah, Sunghoon, was that you? I am sorry I didn't know. How is your mother doing? Your father? I am sorry that I annoy you guys, but you have to go. The principal is already on his way to leave."

"Oh, alright. Y/N, we are going!" Sunghoon shouted for you, placing his hands in his pockets and casually passing the female teacher. That's when she got a clear view of your face. Stained tears and red eyes. Your lip was bloody and your gaze showing how frightened you were. 

"I am sorry, is your girlfriend alright?"

"I am not his-"

"She's alright. She only had a minor accident and twisted her ankle. I will take care of it-"

"No." The teacher got in between you two once she saw Sunghoon's hand ready to grab yours. Sunghoon's gaze darkened as he looked at his teacher, his patience running out. "I am sorry, Sunghoon, but I am afraid that I can't let her go like this. She must go to the nurse's office."

Sunghoon's eyes softened, turning into his usual bored ones. He gathered his hand, looking at you and then the teacher. God, thank you.

"Ah, okay, I am going then. Bye hippo." He gave you a wink and began to walk down the stairs. You and the teacher waited a little till he left. And that's the moment you exploded. Breaking down to tears, crying on the hard floor. But the kind teacher helped you stand up and walked you to the nurse's office.

You just had your first kiss. And your first kiss was stolen by your biggest enemy. 

Park Sunghoon.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

"I am sorry." The teacher spoke while messaging your ankle. You were currently at the nurse's office, expect the nurse had already left. So the teacher ended up taking of your 'twisted ankle'.

"What. Why?" You shattered, eyes wide at her words. Her hands stopped working on your ankle, standing up from the chair. You were sitting on the bed, furrowing at her.

"I know what really happened back there. I mean with Sunghoon. I didn't buy that lie about your ankle." You froze, lowering down your head in shame.

"I am sorry-"

"Don't." She cut you off. She was more embarrassed than you. Her gaze didn't dare to go at you. "I am sorry because I can't help. Going against Park Sunghoon is like setting myself up to lose my job."

You wouldn't talk. You left her to speak instead, even though you had already forgiven her. Not all people have the ease of abandoning their jobs and find a new one.

She may have a husband, a family, and a lot of kids. You understand her. You really do. But who will save you from Park Sunghoon?

"I will try to keep you away from him." She continued, finally looking at you. "But I don't promise you anything." You nodded, thankful for her words. At least you will escape the worst he can do to you.

Then she revealed to you everything she knows. The deepest secrets she knows about Park Sunghoon, and what shaped his personality. His back story, and his family's true nature.

"Sunghoon was always a handsome boy. Since a young age, everyone would get shocked when they saw the beautiful boy. And his parents are known clout chasers."

"What do you mean?" You interrupted her, adjusting your seat on the bed. The woman sat again across from you, a sigh leaving her lips.

"I mean that they do everything for money and fame. So when Sunghoon was born, they wasted no time to take advantage of his handsome face."

Imagining Sunghoon young felt weird. A kind and innocent boy which played with his sister. Now that innocent boy was long gone. It's like something erased his childhood. If he even had lived them.

"He went through abuse, mental and physical. His whole life, he was in front of a camera. He never met motherly affection."

This information made you feel actually bad about him. All those pranks he has pulled on you. All this bullying that you have suffered. You couldn't help but ask her the question that's been bothering you all these years.

"W-why me?" The teacher couldn't hear your weak voice, some sobs escaping along with it. "Why he chose me to bully? I am no different that any girl here."

The woman sighed at the question, a small smile going on her lips. "I don't know. But if he chose you, then it means you won't escape that easily."

Your breath got stuck in your neck, looking into her brown eyes. There was no hope for you behind them. Not even trying to sound hopeful.

"Park Sunghoon doesn't stop till he gets what he wants."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

"He is so kind, nothing like his friends!" Arisu said, closing her locker. After what happened with Sunghoon yesterday, you didn't dare to tell anything to your friend.

Not only because she would get mad at you for not supporting yourself, but also it could destroy her beautiful bond with Riki. She liked the boy very much, even if she won't admit it. Telling her what happened will have a bad influence on the couple too.

As you were talking with Arisu about her perfect date, Sunghoon's friend group walked by. They always walked by your lockers, even if theirs were further away from yours. It was Sunghoon's order. This strong urge he has to see you.

Your eyes flickered towards Sunghoon. He walked around with his hands in his pockets. The rest behind him were laughing about something, while Sunghoon's face stayed the same cold one.

Cold till he saw you. A smirk went up to his lips, coming closer to you. Arisu on the other hand looked towards Riki. You tried to avoid Sunghoon's piercing gaze. Yet before you could turn around, he winked towards your way.

"What was that?" Arisu asked, noticing the wink too. Your cheeks had taken a deep shade of red. You shrugged your shoulders, and with trembling hands, you closed your locker.

The bell rung and you went to your class. Sunghoon's action this time didn't anger your friend. It made you relax, letting a sigh escape your lips. Entering the class, you saw the last thing you wanted to see.

Sunghoon sitting next to your seat.

Your actual seatmate has talked to you a lot of times about Sunghoon. She complained about him threating her to give up her seat. At least she doesn't get in trouble since the teachers obey Sunghoon.

"I am sorry." You whispered to your actual seatmate as you walked towards Sunghoon. Her eyes were teary and you don't even want to imagine what could he have said to her.

That boy is pure devil.

"Hippo, I was waiting for you." Sunghoon smirked, throwing his hand around your shoulder once you had sat. His fingers traced your hair while you were doing the best to ignore him. That's what he wanted. Attention from you.

"Why won't you talk, huh?" His fingers got rougher while caressing your hair. You continued to take out your books like nothing happened, gulping loudly. "Talk." He pulled a strad of your hair.

Before he could do anything else, the teacher stepped in. Sunghoon took his hand away from you, and your shoulders relaxed again. Your eyes got big to see the teacher from yesterday at the nurse's office enter.

She is your only hope.

"Good morning, kids." She began with a huge smile on her lips. However, that smile dropped when she noticed Sunghoon next to you. He had spread his long legs as wide as he could to annoy you.

"Stop it." You whispered when you felt his palm sitting on your thing. The teacher had turned to the board, and he had found his change. Not that he was afraid to do it in front of her.

"So now you talk?" Sunghoon whispered back, caressing your thing and pinching it. Your body felt very warm. It irritated that he could get a reaction out of your body like that. Your handsome bully gripping your thing, and you enjoyed it.

Your breath got stuck in your neck when his hand went further up. Too up for your comfort. You shifted in your seat, yet Sunghoon's hand held your leg down. He smirked when he noticed your red cheeks.

"Oh, you like it hippo. Who else would touch such a fattie like you?" It was dangerous. His hand wouldn't leave, it would only cover a bigger space in your thing. And his hand was reaching for something that was not your thing.

You closed your eyes shut, sounds threating to escape your lips. No, no, no, no. You didn't want to enjoy this. You hated yourself for liking his touch, his face, his attitude. His finger played with the waistband of your panties. And before he could make any more moves.

"Y/N Y/L please change seats with Park Jay." Sunghoon's hand flew back to its place. His frown was big as he watched you standing up. He got so mad that he didn't keep his mouth shut.

"Why should she?" He shouted, putting his hands back on the desk. You had already gone two rows at the front. Now he couldn't annoy you anymore. But he was still trying to get you back.

"Because I know Y/L has a slight problem with her eyesight. So it's good if she changed to the seats at the front." With the teacher's explanation, the boy couldn't say anything else.

You looked at the teacher with a smile. She looked back at you. Her expression stayed firm in order to not give anything away. You nodded, thanking her in silence. To that, she reacted with a small smile and turned back to the lesson.

Sunghoon hadn't understood anything. You were sure about it. At least you hoped he hadn't, because the teacher was only trying to help you.

However, he was smart enough to notice it. Notice your reaction when the specific teacher stepped in and noticed the teacher keeping a close eye on you.

He had understood. And he wasn't going to let it pass by.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

It was the weekend. You were finally getting a break from Sunghoon's harsh behaviours. But to be honest, on those days you cried uncontrollably. The thoughts of Sunghoon's next actions brought you an enormous fear.

Your parents had left the house to go for dinner. You hadn't told them anything about Sunghoon, and you wouldn't anytime soon. Now they enjoyed their dinner, while you sat alone in your bedroom.

Suddenly, your doll bell rung. Assuming that your parents might have come back, you opened the door. And you whished your actions could be erased and never opened it.

"Hey." Sunghoon said, a smirk plastered on his face. You froze at the sight of the boy. He has ruined your life. He makes you live with a constant fear. And now he has the nerve to show up to your house?

"W-what are you-" You were trying to speak, ask for an explanation. You felt your previous tears coming back, yet you didn't want to cry in front of him.

"Crying already?" His eyes light up when the first tear came out. He was sick in his mind. "Come on hippo, I am taking you out." He said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the house. His rough fingers imprinted on your skin while you were trying to break free.

"S-Sunghoon, please-" You choked out in cries. By now your eyes had gotten red, barely seeing between the tears. He had pulled you out of your house, his harsh pull making you fall in the front. A scream left your mouth, eyes pinned on your bloody knees.

"Oh, you are so cute like this." He smirked, closing the door behind him. Your head hanged low, not daring to make eye contact with him. You prayed for someone to stop by, for anyone.

And fortunately, your prayers were heard. As Sunghoon was preparing to force you up again, a loud voice cut him off.

"Leave the girl alone!" In seconds, Sunghoon's hand got dogged by another one. The stranger's hand was pale, not surpassing Sunghoon's, but still. Your eyes went up to your head, trying to take a glance at the random stranger.

The only thing you were able to make out through your tears were his black clothes. He also seemed pretty tall, the boy towering over you. Sunghoon's smug expression turned into a deep frown. He was furious in a way you had never seen.

"Mind your own fucking business! She is my girlfriend!"

"And you think that excuses your violent behaviour." The boy talked back, stepping closer to Sunghoon. Face to face, eyes burning with anger from both sides.

This was your change.

You placed your hands on the hard ground, forcing yourself to stand up. Sunghoon's eyes twitched, watching you escape. Leaving the boy behind, he tried to run in your direction. However, the kind boy got in front of him.

"Leave, quickly!" The boy said, holding back Sunghoon like a bull seeing red. That was the moment you took a clear sight of his face. And he was handsome. More handsome more than any boy you had seen.

Expect Sunghoon.

Sharp cat eyes along with plump lips, and high cheekbones. The black clothes he wore made him appear even prettier. You were lucky he found the way till here. Not only lucky, blessed.

You found a place to rest behind some bushes, hiding yourself in case Sunghoon starts looking for you. After a while, the boy who saved you spotted you behind the bushes.

"Oh, here you are! I was looking for you." He said, kneeling in front of your curled frame. You noticed his bloody lip and dark eye. Of course Sunghoon wouldn't leave without a fight. Noticing where your eyes were, he covered his bloody lip. An awkward giggle left his mouth, and the sound drove you to the skies.

"I am so sorry." You whispered, not daring to raise your eyes at him. The boy frowned before moving closer to you. He couldn't understand your apology.

"Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault that he is like that. A lot of boyfriends end up having violent behaviours, but you should know-"

"That dick is not my boyfriend!" You shouted, breaking down into your arms. It was embarrassing. Your parents can come back at any minute, while you were crying in front of a stranger in your pajamas and behind a bush.

Silence fell. The only sound was your muffled cries. The boy stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch caressing your head. It was so soft and innocent, a touch you had never received before.

Slowly, you revealed your face to him. Seeing how his expression instantly changed at the sight of your face made you want to cry even more. You could notice the pity behind his eyes. But also the curiosity.

"Wherever you want help." He began talking, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. "Call me. Since you don't have your phone with you, give me your number. I will call you later so you can save my number as well."

Your trembling fingers tapped on the screen, writing your number and then your name. "Y/N Y/L." The boy read, testing your name on his tongue. You never loved your name as much as you did now.

"Oh, I forgot! My name is Choi Yeonjun. Nice to meet you." He stretched out his hand for a handshake and you giggled. You couldn't help it but watching how gentle he was being with you made you happy. He was cute, dispite his dark appearance.

Like Sunghoon. He is a true demon, despite his angelic appearance.

"Wait, I hope you didn't tell your name to Sunghoon."

"To the boy from before? No, I didn't. Why would I? Wait, you said his name was Sunghoon? Park Sunghoon?" His name was known, yet for different reasons. For example, as the most handsome teenage model, and the son of the owner of a very rich company. He was an idol to a lot.

"I knew something was wrong with him! His eyes always looked dead." Yeonjun said, frowning at himself. Sunghoon's dark brown eyes truly held nothing other than hate and egoism.

His past was rough, but it had shaped him even rougher.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

You and Yeonjun have begun meeting up pretty often. You and him always excused those hangs out as purely out of worry, but you knew something else had grown between the two of you.

Your mind was filled with his smile as you walked towards your class. Clenching the books in your hands, a smile went up by itself in your mouth.

Till the usual boy pulled it off of you.

"Sunghoon-"

"Y/N, are you playing with me?" Your eyes got wide at his words. Playing with him? It made your blood boil with anger. His words, his voice, his face, the mention of his name.

Everything related to Park Sunghoon was a nightmare and a dream at the same time.

"What are you saying-"

"I saw you hanging out with that guy yesterday. Seems like I didn't beat him hard enough." He cut you off, his deep voice ringing in your ears. You shivered when you felt his touch again on your collarbone.

He started from the top like usual. Touching every single place, even the ones you didn't like to be touched at. Then he continued with the lower body, his fingers always being one step away from the forbidden contact.

Yet now you wanted to fight back. All those late night talks with Yeonjun didn't happen for you to just continue to bear it. His motivating words to fight back. His usual sentence "You have more power over him than he has on you."

Why? You didn't know, neither cared. But you were going to use his obsession against him.

You have more power over him. You have more power over him. You have more power over him!

"Sunghoon, I don't love you!" You yelled as loud as you could, pushing his chest back. It was the first time your hands worked in your favor, because the boy fell back on the desks. "I don't love you!" You yelled again, loud, so it could finally go through his ears.

And it seemed to work, because you left him frozen down on the floor. His eyes were wide and his mouth hanged open. You hated him. And you were finally going to show him that.

"Leave me alone and never bother me again. Because I don't love you back!"

Sunghoon, the boy who loved you like none else. But also the boy's love which was toxic like none else. You didn't care about his past. You didn't want to fix him. Because you couldn't bear the emotion he called 'love'.

You ran away, pushing through the thousand hallways. This time he wasn't chasing you, and it was freighting. Because you know Sunghoon wouldn't leave a behaviour like that unpunished.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

The next day at school, Arisu noticed your perplexed face. "What happened?" She asked, leaning against your locker. Her eyes went on your phone, unread messages on the screen.

"Do you remember the boy I was talking to you about?"

"Yes. The one you accidentally bumped into on your way home?" You nodded, hiding the truth of how you and Yeonjun met up. Arisu and Riki had now developed a beautiful relationship, and you didn't want to mess it up. Not again because of this stupid boy, Sunghoon.

"Well, it's been two days and he still hasn't seen my messages. I even went to the places he usually hangs out with his friends, but when I asked them about him, they replied that they haven't heard from him as well."

"That's weird." Arisu said, and you put your phone back inside your locker. Something was bothering you. Since you stopped talking with him, your chest felt heavy every day. Something inside you told you that this has something to do with Sunghoon.

The bell rang, and Arisu left to go to her class. You goodbyed your best friend with a hug before walking off to your own one. First period was Literature, the only class you shared with Sunghoon. Fortunately, that kind teacher who saved you that day at the roof was the teacher.

At least now, with her help, you don't have to bear his pinches at your things. You sit far away from him because of you don't see well. Such a good excuse that you never thought of. Entering the class, the teacher hadn't come yet.

"Um, I am sorry. This is my seat." You spoke to the male student currently accompanying the front seat. He gulped down and turned to look at you. He was trembling from head to toe, and his voice was thin when he spoke.

"N-no."

"But the teacher changed us-"

"Y/N." This voice was the only thing you needed to understand who was hiding behind this. Sunghoon threatened that poor boy. However, he can't scare you anymore. "This is his seat now." He continued, smirking at himself.

"No, this is my seat. You don't arrange the seats. Wait till the teacher comes." You didn't even turn around to look at him as you talked. If you did, you would be met with his huge smirk and sneaky gazes at his friends.

You waited and waited, yet the teacher never came but someone else. The principal?

"Good morning, kids. For personal reasons, our old literature teacher had to leave, but Ms. Kim has come to take her place. Please bow to your new teacher."

'What?'

Your head was spinning and your face had gotten pale at the sight of the tall man in front of you. Personal reasons? It can't be. She was so scared of losing her job, that was the main reason she couldn't help you properly.

A loud laugh filled the classroom, and you spun around to spot the person laughing. Park Sunghoon's mouth was wide open as he laughed non-stop. His hands held his stomach, and his friends started laughing as well at the situation.

It's because of him. The teacher's absence, Yeonjun's dead kakaotalk. Park Sunghoon was behind them all.

What could he have done to that poor boy? What could he have done to a mother that now is jobless? And what will he do now to you?

You stormed off of the class, ignoring your principal's yellings. Your ears were ringing and your eyes filled with ears again. This can't be happening. Sunghoon is after all is nothing but a heartless monster.

"Wait up, hippo." And even now that you left like that, he chased behind you. He had placed his hands in his pockets, waiting for you to stop running. You couldn't bear his smug expression. You wanted to punch it off of him.

"What did you do to them?!" You cried out loud, falling into your knees. Sunghoon left a breathy giggle, walking closer to you. More and more tears till you couldn't breath. You were frozen in place, and Sunghoon had caught up to you.

"Nothing too bad, sweetheart. Are you worried about your little boyfriend or the teacher? Don't worry, you will see them again. Maybe." His hand went to touch your head, but you slapped it away.

His smirk twitched for a moment. Yet it stayed firm and grew bigger at your cries. He loved seeing you cry. It excited him.

"Why are you doing this to me? I am ugly, anti-social and a nerd. So why to me?" The question he never replied. He didn't do it on purpose because he really couldn't reply. But he could show you why. He was better at that.

"Oh, hippo, when will you understand?" Sunghoon spoke, caressing your cheeks before grabbing them to make you look at him. A sweet smile was on his lips. An innocent one. However, his eyes didn't follow his angelic image.

"You will never escape from me."

__________________

A/N: REMINDER THAT THIS IS JUST FICTIONAL AND DOESN'T SHOW THE IDOL'S TRUE CHARACTER. I DON'T ENCOURAGE ANY OF THE ACTIONS WRITTEN IN REAL LIFE, THIS IS JUST A ONE SHOT. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ!

© all rights reserved to me — i do not allow anyone to copy, translate, or republish my works. all my stories are purerly fictional.

[violetsiren90]

The Lighthouse Keeper

~a What the Moon Saw drabble~

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends, angst

Summary: Life moves on. The moon blooms and wilts. The tide sinks away from the sands and returns with new waters. Yoongi stays.

Content warnings: PG rating, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; drinking and drunkenness (set in a cantina); cigarette smoking; Yoongi gets hit on; longing and pining; sad Yoongi 😔; some ogling of a female character by Hoseok; reference to the death of a minor character; allusions to domestic violence; allusions to semi-homelessness; allusions to casual sexual encounters; this is just pure angst, honestly.

Word Count: ~1600

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my WIP folder, and in the wee hours of the morning last week I sat in a hospital cafeteria with the shittiest cup of coffee I've ever tasted (that I was nonetheless grateful for) and finished it up. Poor, sweet Yoongi . These two are my comfort couple and coming back to them has a way of reminding me that "nobody knows how the story ends - live the day, do what you can."*

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

*"Nobody Knows", the Lumineers

"Alright, old buddy, what's got you down?" 

     A slim, dark-haired young man slid into the booth across from Yoongi. The older man's eyes softened slightly, and his mouth quirked up into a small smile as he regarded his companion over a swig of Pacifico.

     "Who says I'm down?" he asked in a mildly affronted tone, drawing a hand over his beer-slicked lips.

     The other man's mouth broke into a toothy smile, his lips pulling into a heart-shaped grin as he let out a boisterous peal of laughter.

     "You never call these days unless you are," he rejoined, grabbing a foggy acrylic standee from the center of the table and squinting at its small list of beverages. "Geez, they really don't have much of a selection here, do they?" 

     Yoongi snorted.

     "Since when are you an alcohol connoisseur? You don't even drink, Hoba."

     "I do too!"

     A waitress sidled up to their table and slid a food menu in front of Hoseok, who trailed wide eyes up her tattooed arm to her bright blue pixie cut with a thick swallow.

     "Our mango ahi tacos are on special tonight," she hummed with a wink.

     The young man's ears flushed a bright shade of crimson as he stammered something about passing on the food but wondering if they had any ciders. She pocketed her tongue in her cheek as she flicked her eyes to Yoongi.

     "You hungry?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow and tilting a hip clad in low-slung cargo pants and a studded belt in his direction. Yoongi looked up at her and shook his head, taking another sip of beer.

     "Hm, damn shame," she hummed, flicking her eyes over him a last time before sauntering back to the bar.

     Hoseok tracked her every move with a slack jaw, craning his neck to watch her slip through the kitchen door before turning his face - features, still frozen in lascivious astonishment - back to his friend.

     "Holy shit, hyung," he murmured, covering his mouth with both hands, "You could see her nipple piercings right through her shirt!"

     Yoongi grunted in assent, trailing a cloudy gaze over the table's waxy surface as he picked at the bottle's damp label.

     "You gonna get her number?"

     "What?" Yoongi shifted in his seat, eyes refocusing on his friend.

     Hoseok sighed.

     "Nope, you're not. How long's it been, hyung?"

     Yoongi glanced down at his beer again, then raised it to his lips and drained the bottle.

     Jung Hoseok had met Yoongi the summer between freshman and sophomore year of high school. He had attached himself instantly to the older boy, an unusual experience for Yoongi, who was used to people as sunny as Hoseok steering clear of his little storm cloud. He was one of the few friends from those days that Yoongi still called up, on occasion. One of the few who knew the context of his life - the sandy paths on which he'd come of age...what he'd found there, and what he'd lost.

    "Don't, Hoba," Yoongi murmured lowly, his voice suddenly thick in his throat. 

    Hoseok hummed, lips pulled into a thin line. The waitress returned with a hard cider, a Pacifico, and a plate of nachos they hadn't ordered. While Hoseok changed shades like a chameleon on a tomato and attempted to stammer his thanks, Yoongi cast his eyes out the window.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, the gulls pushing their yellow legs from weathered wooden perches to soar beyond the edge of the pier and into the little golden space between the fading light and sparkling waters. The sandy beach stretched around the edge of a rising rockface, dappled with lush green ice plant and yellow sea asters, a few miles to the north. Around the other side of the stony promontory was a place Yoongi knew well. The shore there drew inward and curved into another swell of land as the cliff rose; near its highest stretch an old wooden stairway weaving down its face.

     Tucked away to the side of those stairs was a ledge - a few meters wide and about as deep - that jutted out as the cliff sloped down to its base. It was smooth and fairly even, nearly level with the closest steps; a perfect little hideaway barely visible from above or below. Perfect for two children to sit, huddled against the rock, as they whispered their dreams and fears; for a boy and a girl to hold each other through nights that couldn't be spent at homes far less warm and gentle than each other's arms; for a young man and woman to give themselves to one another at last and too late.

    It was where Yoongi had sat utterly broken, on the last morning of a summer ten years past, his head tilted back against the stone as he wept up to the sky, praying to any god that would listen that you would run fast and run far - that you would finally spread full your beautiful wings...that you would forget him.

    But Yoongi never forgot you. Not one word that you spoke, not one touch of your gentle fingers or your soft lips.

     He had left the ledge that day, but he had carried you with him - down the beach and back into the horrid little shack where three nights later Yoongi's father hit him for the very last time. Yoongi had carried you with him to the doorstep, as he threw the man out into the dirt. Then he had carried you with him to every couch and car and dingy apartment that served as a night's shelter until he had saved up enough for a little place of his own; had carried you around with the tools and lumber as he spent long, hot days building the tiny workshop beside it. And he had carried you, on a some miserable nights, into the beds of strangers - who, through no fault of their own, could never ever compare.

    "My dad died," Yoongi said drawing his eyes away from the window. He said it with a quiet simplicity that he seemed to embody more and more with age.

    Hoseok looked up from the plate of nachos, mouth full. He looked as if he were sorry, but didn't want to say that. Instead he got up and slid onto Yoongi's bench of the booth, gently shoving the older man over to stay flush with his side. Yoongi wouldn't usually tolerate that sort of closeness, but with Hoseok it was different. Hoseok knew.

    "How's your mom?" he asked softly.

    Yoongi nodded.

    "She's okay. She's taking it better than me, actually. Already talking about leaving."

    "Are you going to?"

"What?"

    "Leave?"

    Hoseok's voice sounded hopeful. Yoongi's right hand slipped instinctively into his jacket pocket, slender fingers curling around a little whittling knife with a pink heart painted on its handle. 

    "I don't think so, Hoba."

    The younger man sighed through his nose. He was quiet for a long moment before turning to his friend.

    "I got an offer from a high school down south. VP. I start there in the fall."

    Yoongi raised his gaze, his small smile affectionate and his eyes soft. He wouldn't let the sadness reach them - he'd learned how to push it away.

    "They'll be lucky to have you," he murmured sincerely.

    Yoongi was used to people moving on. Everyone did...everyone but him. While the world turned, Yoongi stayed.

    "Someday, you need to leave, hyung,” Hoseok urged him quietly. “She's out there somewhere living her life. She'd want you to live yours too."

    At the mention of you, Yoongi felt his heart squeeze and ten years of carrying your memory well up and into his throat.

    Hoseok clapped a hand onto Yoongi's back, and raised the cider to his lips.

Hoseok knew, but he didn’t understand. No one ever really seemed to.

    As the cantina closed its door for the night, Yoongi ushered a stumbling Hoseok into the back of a cab. 

    "You're nah coming?" the younger man slurred as Yoongi stood and moved to shut the door. 

    He shook his head.

    "Gonna walk. Goodnight, Hoba," Yoongi gave his friend a little endeared crook of his mouth before closing the cab door and tapping the back of the car as it rolled away from the pier.

    Pulling a pack of Marlboros from his pocket, he watched the cab's red taillights fade into the evening blue. Yoongi lit a cigarette and turned to walk the path that wove along the edge of the cliffs. While he walked he wondered about you. He wondered if you were safe, if you smiled and laughed. He wondered if there was someone who made your eyes sparkle and your smile shy, someone with whom you could share your joys and sorrows. Yoongi wondered if you had found a home.

      The moon had risen to meet the stars when he reached the little stairway. He gingerly descended its rungs - neglected of repair and worn with their years - until he reached it, the little ledge in the moonlight. He stepped onto its smooth surface, the lower half of the rickety railing long fallen away, and sinking down he closed his eyes.

    The full bright moon washed over him, and for a moment, Yoongi felt it understood. It had seen, after all.

It had seen the boy and the girl and what they had become for each other. It had seen you give Yoongi a home, and it had watched him, in return, teach you to fly - to fly far away.

But Yoongi carried you with him. After all, you were his home, where else would he go? As the wind whipped up off the sea and swept around him, whispering of another summer's end, the moon watched Yoongi stay another season. And if it could have seen his heart, it would have watched him go to its little window, and, as the darkness fell, light a lamp to shine out across the sea.

The moon heard Yoongi pray that you'd never return.

…It saw him stay on the chance that you might.

-Fin-

[colormepurplex2]

The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart | It's Like Dancing On Moonbeams

↳Hoseok x f.Reader ⤜ Non-Idol, Brother's Best Friend, Enemies to Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 10,595 ⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, BIG misunderstandings, mild childhood misogyny, childhood abuse, 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

⇽ Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

Branches claw at your face and snag in your hair as you mindlessly stumble through the trees—your vision blurs, hot tears thundering down your cheeks in a torrent you can’t control. The echo of Namjoon’s words clangs around in your head, making you feel disoriented.

The toe of one of your shoes catches a humping tree root, and you go down hard. Blood fills your mouth as your teeth chomp your tongue with the jarring fall. Quiet sobs shake your chest as you push yourself up and stumble forward again, absently brushing the dirt and debris from your abraded palms.

Thankfully, your father is still gone when you swing open the backdoor and shuffle inside. You kick off your shoes in the small mudroom, quickly disappearing into your shared room. The beds are small, with just a few feet of creaking floorboards separating them and a small window between the headboards.

The closet has a small chest of drawers shoved under the few dozen hanging items of clothing, half the drawers yours and half Namjoon’s. You pull open your top drawer, grabbing a clean pair of long pajama pants. They’re threadbare but comfortable and will cover the welts.

Namjoon comes in through the back door long after you make a small pot of rice for dinner. There’s dirt covering the knees of his khakis, and sweat makes the strands of his hair stick together on his forehead.

“Father went to town?” he asks, his voice pitched low as he comes in behind where you’re washing up the few dishes you used for dinner.

You set the dishes on the drying rack on the counter, grabbing a towel to dry your hands before turning to face him. “He left this morning after breakfast.”

Relief is evident on Namjoon’s face. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

“He had an appointment to discuss the harvest. I imagine he’ll be home late or early tomorrow, same as always.” You know your voice has a coldness, and you know Namjoon is picking up on it.

“Everything okay?”

Anger burns in your belly, upsetting the meager meal you just finished. “Everything’s fine,” you say, stepping around him to go to your room. “I’m going to bed early. Try to be quiet.”

“Whoa, Kitty!” Namjoon grabs your arm as you try to pass him. “Why are you limping?”

Jerking your arm from his grip, you bare your teeth at him. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing. I can clearly see you’re in pain. What did he do to you?” Namjoon’s eyes bore into yours, panic lacing his question. He’s as familiar with your father’s belt as you are.

“I said it’s nothing, so it’s nothing. Just leave it, okay?” You shove away from him, wincing against the ache in your thighs as you try not to limp as noticeably. “Not like you care what I have to say anyway.” They’re whispered words, but you’re sure you said them loud enough that Namjoon would hear. In part, you want him to ask again. You want to know he cares about your opinion, regardless of what Hoseok said by the lake. But he doesn’t say anything more or ask again…

You curl up in your bed, facing the wall, with your back to Namjoon when he finally slides into his bed. You can hear him tossing and turning for a while before the noise is replaced with his soft, even breathing.

The first tear slides into your hair as you realize you’ve lost him. Namjoon no longer needs you the way he once did. That reality can only be placed at one person's feet—Jung Hoseok.

_____________

You startle awake, heart in your throat. Your pillow is wet, soaked with tears still sliding down your cheeks. Scrubbing at your cheeks angrily, you throw back the blanket and swing your legs over the side of your bed.

“Fuck,” you lament, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes. “Fuck!” The frustration quivers through your limbs, followed by emotional fatigue. You tap the screen of your phone sitting on your bedside table. It’s only 5 AM.

The argument with Hoseok yesterday and the consequential retelling of the day when you were thirteen stayed with you seemingly all night. It’s been years since you’ve dreamed of that day, the nightmare usually only brought on by an intense argument with Namjoon.

An uncomfortable heat lingers on the backs of your thighs as if your body still remembers what the snap of your father’s belt felt like. You haven’t seen your father since you and Namjoon moved out at eighteen. The last you heard, he’d ended up in prison because of a drunken brawl that landed a man permanently in a wheelchair.

Namjoon visited him briefly once, just to ensure legal matters were covered with the then-vacant farmhouse. You both agreed to sell it once the paperwork was finalized and you received rights to it. It’s a place you both never wanted to see again.

Pressing a hand against your chest, over your fluttering heart, you take a slow and deep breath to help calm yourself. Grabbing your phone, you click into your text thread with Namjoon and send him a message to call you when he’s available. You put your phone aside, and the day slips by in a blur of mundane things. A few times, you catch yourself staring at Hoseok’s contact—rightfully saved as Jung He-really-sucks—in your phone, but never more than that.

The only response you get from Namjoon is a quick text saying he and Jin are super busy, but if it’s crucial, he can swing by the apartment sometime between meetings. You let it slide without wanting to add more stress to your brother’s plate. Hoseok might be right in that you need to have a conversation with Namjoon, but at this point, there are far more important matters than your fifteen years of hurt feelings right now.

You manage to get through the next two weeks without having another falling out with Hoseok. From the outside looking in, people would assume you’re at least cordial with one another. Though, that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, you haven’t even communicated directly with him since the day you had your argument. Instead, you’ve been childishly only communicating with him through Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t mind being the middleman. He knows you well enough to understand what you need regarding Hoseok. In the short time you were with Yoongi, you may have divulged some of the darker secrets about how you feel. So, he takes it in stride when you use him as a conduit and has been a saving grace in keeping Hoseok at least six degrees removed from your bubble.

That is, until the day of Namjoon’s wedding. Nothing in the world can keep you away from Hoseok, then. The thought of wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the aisle to stand at Namjoon’s side has sweat slicking down your spine. You blot a tissue along your temples. Taking a fortifying breath, you knock softly on the door before you.

“If you’re Jin, go away!” Your brother’s voice is muffled through the door but no less humor-filled.

“Not Jin,” you call.

There’s distinct shuffling on the other side. “Oh, thank fuck,” Namjoon gushes, shoving the door open just enough to let you slip into the room. “He’s been trying to trick me into letting him see me for the last hour!”

“Do you really believe in those can’t-see-the-bride-before-the-wedding superstitions?” you question, looking around the small space he’s getting ready in.

The room is a mess—flowers and discarded articles of clothing cover nearly every surface. Namjoon is half-dressed in nothing but boxers, long black socks, and a white tank top with his periwinkle-colored dress shirt open over it.

“It’s not that.” His cheeks pink as he turns away from you.

You purse your lips in curiosity. “Then what is it?”

His eyes flick to yours over his shoulder. Namjoon noisily clears his throat. “You don’t want to know.”

“Jin wants to fuck you, doesn’t he? ‘Ravage the bride and steal her innocence’ kind of thing.” You laugh as Namjoon swings around and gawks at you. “Chill out. You tried to scratch out that in your notebook, but I could still read what he wrote. It’s cute, in a dark romance novel kind of way.”

Namjoon groans, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I would indulge him, but I’m worried he’ll ruin my clothes or make me lose focus.”

“Don’t worry, brother dearest. I’m sure Jin would put you back together after breaking your back.”

The scandalized look he gives you makes you laugh again. A sudden knock at the door accompanies it. “Namjoon?” Seokjin’s voice sounds from the other side.

“Sorry, Jin, I’m taking over to get your prince charming ready for the ball,” you call, stepping closer to the door.

The door thumps, rattling on its hinges as if Jin jerked against it. “Oh, uh, umm…sorry, Kitty, I didn’t know you were in there. Ahem, er, well—“

“Don’t worry, lover boy. You can lay claim to my brother’s backside as soon as you say ‘I do’”.

There is a stammered reply from Jin, but it’s too muffled for you to hear it clearly, covered up by the fast retreat of his footsteps. “Fucking hell,” Namjoon sighs dreamily. “I really love that man.”

You can’t help but smile as you look back at your brother, his eyes unfocused as he stares at the door, cheeks still sporting a soft blush. “Let’s get you ready so you can show him just how much you do love him.”

Namjoon hums, moving over to sit in the only chair without something sitting on it. “I don’t want anything too over the top, just a nice style.” He gestures to his unruly hair, the strands flopping haphazardly.

“Don’t worry. I know exactly what Jin will love,” you assure him, offloading the small bag of hair supplies you brought with you. “You know, this reminds me of when we moved out, and you finally let me play with your hair. The platinum blond fauxhawk was really a look, huh?”

“My hair was so dry and fried from all the bleach. You had no idea what you were doing,” he chuckles, ruffling a hand through his thick, inky hair. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call you last week. I know today isn’t exactly a day we’ll have much time for chitchat, but we have a few hours now while we finish getting ready to talk if you want.” He catches your eyes in the vanity mirror on the wall in front of the chair as you step behind him and set your bag on top of a few boxes.

“I don’t know that today is the day for that conversation, Namjoon.”

He shifts in his seat, his back straightening. “What’s going on, Kitty? Talk to me. Now’s probably the best day to take my focus off the stress of something going wrong. Come on. It’ll be like old times.”

You open your mouth, intent on insisting it’s unimportant, but Hoseok’s words echo through your mind. You do need to have a serious conversation with Namjoon, and after today, there’s no telling when you’ll get another chance like this.

“Do you remember, umm…well, I don’t know how to describe that day, at least from my perspective,” you lick your lips, trying to search for the words. Something else Hoseok said catches in your mind. “Can you tell me about the day you told Hoseok about how you really feel about men and women?”

Namjoon stills under your hands, his lips thinning into a stoic line. “Why?”

“He and I had a conversation—an argument, actually, about a certain day, and he says it’s the same day you told him about that. I just, that day, it’s something else for me…and I just want to make sure we both know what day I’m talking about before I actually start talking about it,” the words rush out of you as you wince with the awkwardness of the conversation.

“Is this argument why you haven’t seen nor spoken to him in almost two weeks?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, staring at you through the mirror.

You tear your eyes from his, busying yourself by grabbing some hair wax and styling pomade from your bag. “It is. He told me I needed to have a serious conversation with you about that day, and well, that’s what it was all about.”

“Let’s talk about it.”

“Can you tell me about that day from your perspective?” you tentatively ask, unscrewing the lid to the pomade.

“I remember climbing out the window, even though you had asked me not to…”

_____________

The sun is still below the horizon, but the heat is already threatening to choke Namjoon. Summers in the countryside are brutal, sticky, and uncomfortable. He wonders if you’ll be okay with sleeping with the window open tonight in hopes of a breeze to cool down the stifling inner atmosphere of your shared room.

Namjoon skirts around the toolshed in the back, heading straight for the line of trees on the edge of the property. He doesn’t dare look back, fearing if he sees the disappointed look in your eyes, he’ll immediately climb back in through the window.

If he’s lucky, Hoseok will already be waiting for him at the lake, and they can get a quick dip in before Namjoon spills his guts. It’s been on his mind for weeks now to come clean with his new friend. He might have only met Hoseok at the start of last school year, but in that time, they’ve grown increasingly closer.

As much as Namjoon loves you, it's refreshing having another guy's perspective, especially as Namjoon grows into his teenage years. Things are changing, his body is changing, and there is just some stuff he’d rather not talk to you about. Private things, awkward and weird things—things that make his heart beat a little harder to think about.

“Namjoon!” His name echoes from his right. He slows his steps, peering between the towering trees until he catches a flash of white in the dim light breaching the overhead canopy. As he approaches the voice, the sun slides over the horizon, but the rays are thready and weak through the thick tree cover.

Hoseok comes into view a few moments later, carrying a covered basket in one arm and two folded towels in the other. “Hey, man,” Namjoon greets his smiling friend, feeling lighter already.

Green onion pancakes and boiled eggs sit in the pit of Namjoon’s stomach as he watches his friend skip rocks across the shimmering surface of the small lake. The cleared ground between two fallen trees makes the perfect picnic spot. The pancakes, eggs, and thermos of water Hoseok brought were easy to eat as they sat on the rocky shore by the placid water.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen the new bruises on your arm,” Hoseok says, casually skipping another rock out over the lake. “What happened this time?”

Hoseok doesn’t know everything that goes on in your house. Namjoon has only told him vague details, mostly leaving out what your father does to you. He’s sure if someone else found out his father raised a hand to you, they’d confront him, and that would only make matters worse—your words, not his when he first broached the subject right after your mom left. Everyone else in the community paid no heed to the Kim children and the map of discoloration that occasionally dots their skin. That’s just how it is living out here.

Namjoon tugs down the cuff of his short sleeve, trying to cover the distinct fingertip bruises on his upper arm. “Father has a short temper regarding chores around the farm. It’s nothing new. I knew I would get in trouble when I didn’t finish my chores before sundown yesterday.”

A grunt comes from Hoseok as he launches another stone. The rest of the rocks in his hand clatter around his feet as he turns to face Namjoon. “That’s my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t asked you to hang out yesterday afternoon, you would have finished on time.”

Shrugging, Namjoon dismisses the subject, setting his focus on the reason he wanted to meet Hoseok this morning. He wets his lips, eyes flicking over Hoseok’s features. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

Hoseok quirks a slight smile. “You know I’ll always listen to you. What’s up?” he asks, crouching down beside Namjoon, his weight resting on his heels.

Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Namjoon opens his heart to his new friend, hoping the confidence isn’t wasted. “For a long time now, I’ve known that…well, I-I like…not girls.”

“You like knot girls? What’s that? Is that a new comic or something? It sounds kinky.”

Namjoon puffs out his flaming cheeks and shakes his head. “No, it’s uh, not a comic. Not knot girls…but not girls, as in I don’t like girls. As in, I like not girls, but guys.” The words are soft, spoken with trepidation. He watches as emotions flicker over Hoseok’s features before they settle on a soft smile of acceptance.

“Is this how you confess your feelings for me, Joonie?”

Shoving Hoseok’s shoulder playfully, Namjoon snorts a laugh and can’t help but smile. “You wish.”

Hoseok shuffles his feet to keep his balance. “I mean, that’s cool, man. Are you—do other people know, or is this like a secret?”

That’s the hard part. “No one else knows. I’m not sure my dad…” he trails off, rubbing a hand absently over the bruises on his arm.

That sobers the smile on Hoseok’s face instantly. “Right. Okay, that makes sense. Is it hard, you know, to hide that?”

“Hiding is all I can do at the moment. Telling other people—if the wrong people found out…” he trails off. “As much as it sucks, I can’t do that, man. It would mean hell to pay.”

“Would it be as bad as how you feel right now? What’s temporary pain compared to life-long?”

Namjoon knows Hoseok is just probing, curious; making sure Namjoon is thinking about everything. He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and toeing some loose rocks. “I don’t know. The fallout might not just impact me.”

Hoseok scoffs. “Kitty? What’s she got to do with this? She doesn’t understand as I do. She’s just a stupid girl.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…” he pauses as he hears a rustle in the leaves behind him before continuing, “but only about her not understanding. She’s not stupid, and she’s not just a girl.” Namjoon narrows his eyebrows, for once irritated at Hoseok. He bites the bullet, breaking your trust, but in a way that he hopes will help Hoseok see beyond the fact that you’re a girl. “If you think these bruises,”—he gestures to the marks on his arm—“are bad, know that they’re nothing compared to what Kitty experiences at the hands of our father.”

Hoseok launches to his feet. “What!?”

Namjoon shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop Hoseok from combusting further. “That’s not the point. All I’m saying is if anyone can understand me, it’s her. I know you just see her as a girl and my annoying sister…but, she’s more than that. I would have told her first, but my main focus right now is understanding what it’s like from a guy's perspective. I need another guy to talk me through it, help me reason out my feelings—a guy I trust.”

There is a distinct change in Hoseok’s body language as he absorbs Namjoon’s words. “Okay, man, I’ll listen. No more bashing on Kitty, I promise.”

_____________

“You told him about Father?” you ask in the quiet following Namjoon’s recollection of that day.

Namjoon turns in his seat to look back at you. Your hands slide from his hair, fingers slicked in pomade, temporarily forgotten. “He’s my best friend, Kitty. I didn’t tell him everything, but enough for him to understand.”

“Okay,” you mumble, chewing on your lip as you mentally go back through Namjoon’s telling.

“Now that I’ve told you everything, what’s so important about that day? What am I missing?”

You can feel heat creeping up your neck and spreading over your cheeks. It wasn’t so bad telling Hoseok about overhearing him and Namjoon that day, but now that you’re faced with telling your brother, it has your heart lurching behind your ribcage.

“That morning, Father asked me where you were after breakfast, and I lied, saying I didn’t know. He strapped me, of course, knowing I was lying. I was so mad at you for sneaking out and putting me in that position.” You shake your head, stopping the interjection you see forming on your brother’s lips. “I went to find you, to tell you off about it. I came upon you and Hoseok by the lake and overheard your conversation.”

“Kitty,” Namjoon says, his brows pinching and his lips turning down. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well, I only overheard a little bit of the conversation,” you admit. The breath you pull into your lungs does little to soothe you as you continue. “I only overheard a small part…where Hoseok was calling me stupid and telling you I wouldn’t understand because I was just a girl. Then…you said maybe he was right, and well, I left before I heard anything else because I was so pissed off and hurt.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide in understanding. “You really believed that’s how I felt all these years? Is that why you hate Hoseok so much? Oh fucking hell.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask, shoving your hands back into Namjoon’s hair to continue fixing it. You use your grip on his hair to turn him back to face the mirror. “It’s not like anyone ever listened to me anyway. Not Father, not Mom, and certainly not you.”

“I listened to you,” Namjoon insists. “I’ve always valued what you had to say. You’re the one that shut me out that day. Don’t you remember? I came home, and I could tell you’d been whipped, but instead of talking to me, you pretty much told me to get fucked. You changed that day, Kitty, and I had no idea I did something to cause it. I just assumed you were being a hormonal teenage girl.” You scoff at that. He glares at you in the mirror. “We were kids. What else was I supposed to think?”

That sucks the bite out of the tart reply poised on your tongue. “Yeah, you’re right,” you choose to say instead. Because, as much as it hurts, he is right. It seems you’re just as much to blame as he is, maybe even more so. “Now I really feel like an asshole.”

“Well, yeah,” he lightly laughs. “Fuck, Kitty. Have you really been holding on to this for the last fifteen years?”

“I guess I have. I’m sorry.” You mean it, too. You meet Namjoon’s soft graze through the mirror, finishing the final touch on his hair. “Truly, I am.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He reaches up and catches one of your hands, squeezing it in his. “You’ll always be my sister, but most of all, you’ll always be my best friend. You're still number one, regardless of who else I call my best friend. Don’t ever forget that. I know this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of addressing the last fifteen years of pent-up feelings, but as soon as Jin and I get back from the honeymoon, we’re going to have a sibling weekend, okay? Just the two of us and an industrial-sized box of tissues.”

You reflect the smile on your brother’s face. “I think I’d like that.”

His eyebrows smooth out before they raise slightly as he continues to look at you. “Now, to circle back, speaking of other best friends, I think you and Hoseok need to have a conversation as well. A civilized conversation, as from what you said, you already argued about it.”

You sigh. “You’re probably right. But, right now, there is something far more important to do. You’re getting married in approximately fifty-two minutes, and you’re still not wearing any pants.” You and Namjoon laugh at that, and it feels good. You’re already breathing easier, and the healing has only just begun. “Come on, get up. Let’s finish this.”

🌙🌙🌙

Hoseok

It’s unfair how stunning you are standing across the small foyer from Hoseok. The lilac-colored off-the-shoulder silk dress you’re wearing has small white flowers embroidered along the swooping neckline and along the bottom hem. It accentuates your beautiful body and complements the style of your hair and faint makeup feathered around your eyes.

He watches your toes flex in your open-toe sandals, the nails painted with a small white tip. Everything about you makes his chest feel tight and his breathing erratic. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to look upon you, something he never thought he’d miss as much as he did.

Namjoon stands a few feet away, his hands brushing nervously over his light grey suit jacket. Hoseok’s suit is the same lilac as your dress and matches Namjoon’s in style and cut. His undershirt is a soft white to compliment the white accents in your dress.

The ceremony is taking place in an expansive botanical garden on the backside of the estate venue Namjoon and Seokjin rented for the day. Seokjin waits at the other end of a long garden path that runs right through the blooming roses, all white and purple petals to compliment the silver and periwinkle colors of the wedding party.

Hoseok tries to catch your eye, but you’re focused on Namjoon, waiting for him to cue you to move. He almost misses the flick of Namjoon’s hand and his broad smile. If it weren’t for you taking a step toward Hoseok, he’d be none the wiser.

“Your arm,” you murmur softly, holding out your hand. He stares at it, eyes tracing over the delicate bones beneath what he knows is soft skin. You clear your throat, an urgent but quiet plea to snap out of it.

He offers you his elbow and luxuriates in the faint warmth of your hand sliding into the crook of it. “You look beautiful,” he whispers as he steps with you into the open doorway that leads to the flower garden.

Your eyes meet his from under your lashes, and suddenly, he feels like he can’t breathe. “Quite handsome yourself.” You barely move your lips, but he can hear the soft words. They expand his chest, letting precious air fill his lungs.

Music begins to drift from the garden, beckoning you both forward. He takes small, measured steps, just like he did during rehearsal. You didn’t attend the rehearsal at the same time as he did, so he ended up practicing with Yoongi, who laughed and teased him. According to the snickered comments from Yoongi, he’d also been your stand-in when you practiced earlier that day.

Your fingers clench against his arm, and he can hear the clear labor of your breathing—you’re mildly panicking. “Breathe, slow and calm. It’s a good day, Kitty.”

The sun hangs low in the sky, the garden lit with hanging globes of twinkling lights: a sunset wedding, the perfect union of light and dark, according to Seokjin and Namjoon. Hoseok ushers you down the steps into the garden, the gravel underfoot crunching softly.

It’s a short walk down one of the paths and then a right turn before the pergola with its rose and lily-covered arch comes into view—just enough time for Hoseok to admire you without an audience watching.

His eyes slide over your bare shoulder, taking in the delicate silver chain with the cat charm sitting in the hollow of your throat. Namjoon told him the necklace once belonged to your maternal grandmother, who gifted it to you—along with your nickname—on one of her rare visits to the farm.

You adjust your grip on the small bundle of light purple roses and creamy lilies clutched in your free hand, held just below your breasts. Hoseok can smell your distinct coconut and pineapple scent over the fragrance of the garden. You’ve always reminded him of a tropical paradise, an exotic place of wonder and intrigue.

The sound of you clearing your throat snaps Hoseok out of his mental daydream of you stretched out on a beach, his lips kissing the salt from your skin as the sun—you clear your throat again and give him a pinched look. “Why did you stop?”

He takes a quick step forward, hauling you with him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not having realized he’d stopped just before the turn.

Plastering a tight smile on his face, he guides you around the turn, and the tension in his lips evaporates, letting his smile mold into a more genuine expression of his excitement. Seokjin—wearing just as fine a suit as Namjoon—waits at the end of the garden path, wreathed in greenery and blossoming petals. A few white chairs with pale purple cushions line the walkway, friendly faces and smiles greet you both as you make your way down the aisle.

By the time you and Hoseok take your place to the side of Yoongi, who’s officiating the wedding, Namjoon appears around the bend in the garden. Hoseok’s best friend is resplendent, made even more so by the faint glisten in his deep, mahogany eyes as he draws closer.

The exchanging of vows is a blur in Hoseok’s mind. He knows he should be paying attention to the sweet words spoken by Namjoon and Seokjin, but his focus keeps drifting to you. Tears slip down your cheeks, and Hoseok has to restrain himself to keep from reaching out and thumbing them away. Instead, he twines his fingers between yours and offers you support and solidarity with occasional, gentle squeezes.

“…I now pronounce you partners for life!”

Hoseok tightens his grip on your hand as he watches Seokjin lead Namjoon down the aisle in a shower of tossed fresh flower petals and heart-shaped punch-out leaf confetti. They pause at the curve leading back to the estate, and Seokjin twirls Namjoon before pulling him into his arms and dipping him for a picturesque kiss. A soft, titillating laugh bubbles from you at the display. It warms Hoseok’s heart to hear you laugh and sound so at peace.

Namjoon and Seokjin disappear around the corner. Jin’s brother and one of his best friends, whom you’ve only met briefly, follow from Jin’s place of honor. Hoseok offers you his arm again to lead you in front of the small crowd that begins to disperse toward the estate, where there will be a small, cozy dinner and social hour before they leave to catch a flight for their honeymoon.

Reluctantly, Hoseok lets you slip away into the crowd once he’s escorted you back through the garden. You haven’t said anything to him since before walking out for the ceremony, and he’s unsure if that’s a good thing. In a way, he misses your clawing remarks and biting attitude. As he idly sips a glass of champagne, he wonders if you found time over the last two weeks to have that conversation with Namjoon.

🌙🌙🌙

It’s not fair. Even after your conversation with Namjoon and your new-found non-hatred for Hoseok, he shouldn’t be able to elicit such a response from you. From the moment you saw him in the foyer, your heart has been doing funny things inside your chest. When he ushered you out the door, he mistakenly thought your erratic breathing was nervousness over the day, when in reality, it was being so near to him and coming to terms with embracing the new way you see him.

You’ve become quite good at masking your feelings for Hoseok under the guise of your hatred for him over the last fifteen years. Initially, it was easier because the disappointment and betrayal were still fresh in your heart. You didn’t realize you had underlying feelings for Hoseok until he moved away a few years ago, and this feeling of emptiness settled into the void his move had created.

Sure, it’s not like he was gone completely. As you’ve lamented many times before, his move made it seem like he spent even more time around you than before. But, it was more so just the fact that life was swiftly moving around you, and after all these years, you’d grown attached to him—in your own twisted, messed up way. Though, to be fair, it’s not your fault he’s devilishly handsome and has the personality of a saint. It’s hard not to like him, even when you hate him.

The wedding speeches and toasts blur by in a mix of emotions. You find yourself listening attentively to Hoseok’s words as he speaks to both Seokjin and Namjoon, reminiscing and wishing them the best. Your own speech, the one you rehearsed for weeks, tumbles from between numb lips and doesn’t have nearly as much unction as it probably should. Everyone applauds nonetheless, and Namjoon and Seokjin capture you between the two of them in a hug.

Once free of the festivity commitments, you find yourself meandering outside and back into the garden. With the sun down, the pleasant coolness of the air helps soothe the warmth that’s seemingly latched itself into your skin.

“You okay?” That voice, the one you’ve been unconsciously seeking out all night, elicits a quickening of your heartbeat. Your pulse batters away in your neck, fluttering so intensely you can feel every throb.

You turn slowly, eyes sliding across the expanse of flowering roses before landing on Hoseok standing a few feet behind you. His hands are in his pockets, the front of his suit jacket open to reveal his dress shirt underneath. The tilt of his chin increases as he patiently waits for you to respond.

You don’t answer him with a lashing tongue for the first time in fifteen years. Instead, you choose the honest, albeit vulnerable, answer. “No. I’m not.”

Your honest response must catch him by surprise because his brow furrows, pinching over his quizzical eyes. “Wait, really? W-what’s going on?” He jerks into action, closing the distance between you and cradling your face, angling your head so he can fully see it. His eyes flick back and forth between yours. “Are you not feeling well?”

You sigh, pressing one of your hands over his and leaning into the touch. “Physically, I’m fine—maybe a little uncomfortable from where the sandals are rubbing my heels, but that’s fairly insignificant to how I feel emotionally.”

“Emotionally?” His forehead smoothes out before he quirks a curious eyebrow.

“Mhm,” you hum softly. You take a step back, pulling away from the hands still framing your face. With your hand still covering his, you twist your fingers so they slide into the clasp of his. “Walk with me for a bit?”

A muscle along his jaw flexes as he searches your face again, looking for what, you’re unsure. “Of course I will.”

Hoseok allows you to lead, guiding him with your hand snuggly fitted into his. His skin is softer than you’d thought it would be. As a hip-hop dancer, you know he uses his hands to perform certain moves and works out extensively. So, the idea that his hands would be at least mildly calloused from the beating they take isn’t outlandish. Though you have seen the plethora of body butters and hemp oil lotions he carries in his bag, so perhaps it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise.

“I talked with Namjoon,” you finally tell him after several minutes of silence. The path in the garden that you’re on empties out beside a sprawling stretch of dark water. How fitting, you think, that your confession should happen beside the placid waters of a lake when that’s precisely where your hatred began fifteen years ago. “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you the last fifteen years. You didn’t deserve my ire. If I had just talked to Namjoon about it…maybe the years would have panned out a bit differently.” The last part is said quietly as you stop and turn to look up into Hoseok’s eyes, which look even more star-filled than usual.

“Kitty, you have nothing to apologize for. Not when it’s just a misunderstanding. I mean, sure, it might have been nice to spend the last fifteen years differently…but, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t mind spending at least the next fifteen not being enemies.”

Much like your conversation with Namjoon, that assurance doesn’t fix the last fifteen years, but it does lessen the weight on your chest. It gives you hope for the future and what comes next. “Not being enemies sounds like a good idea.”

“You know, I meant what I said that day in your apartment. I have always liked you—like, liked you.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, hiding a smirk. “You’ve always been beautiful. But, your passion and drive is something that I’ve always admired, even if it was directed toward making my life hell.”

You laugh. The sound is a bit strained as you work up the courage for your next confession. “Since we’re on another train of honesty…In a weird way, I’ve always liked you, too. I didn’t want to because...how messed up is that, right? But, it’s like no matter how much I hated you on the surface, deep down, I couldn’t fully commit to that feeling. You’ve always been such a light in my life, in Namjoon’s life. Despite how I felt, I knew you would always be there like a beacon shining in a desolate sea.”

Hoseok clears his throat, his eyes briefly flicking away from yours before settling back with an intensity you can’t place. “Um, is it—would it be okay…can I kiss you? Is that weird?”

The lengths of your fingers on the hand not still holding his, tangle into his hair in response. You simultaneously use your grip on his hair and the movement of leaning up onto your toes to bring his mouth to yours.

His tongue teases along the seam of your lips, and you open for him. He tastes like hope. A soft, sweet, and dizzying flavor that has a soft moan sliding up your throat as his tongue meets yours.

Chills fueled by the ecstasy of the moment blanket your skin. Hoseok’s hands land on your hips, securing you firmly against his front. The warmth from his body contrasts with the light bite in the air; it’s comforting and has you pressing even closer to him.

“Hoseok.” Your lips brush over his as you whisper his name. It comes out breathy, like a soft plea.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he admits, another confession shared between you. “I thought about kissing you to shut you up so many times.” You both laugh, airy and light, as you try to catch your breath. “Would you have slapped me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I would have worked out my aggressions sooner…or maybe a bit differently. Hate sex is therapeutic, right?” The words are out before you can stuff them down.

Hoseok's eyes go wide, twinkling with mirth. “Who said anything about sex?”

Heat crawls up your neck and over your chest. “I mean, I was just—it’s not that, well…kissing tends to lead to—“

He cuts you off with another kiss. This one is searing, fast and full of passion. When he finally pulls away, you’re swaying slightly in his arms. “What’s that about kissing?”

“Kissing. Sex.” You pause to try to wrangle your breathing. “Apology sex?”

Hoseok chuckles, the sound dark and wicked in a toe-curling way. “Kitty, are you proposing that I sleep with you?”

Licking your lips, you clear your throat and focus your attention back on his eyes. “Hoseok, are you saying you haven’t thought about that at least once over the years?”

“Avoidance.” He kisses you. “Deflection.” Another kiss. “So what if I have?” He swallows your response, tongue delving into your mouth in a swirl of breathlessness that has you moaning again.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper, finally breaking from his lips again. “We have many years to make up for, and it would be a shame to waste any more time.”

The sound Hoseok makes lingers somewhere between a growl and a moan. “We probably should get back before your brother begins to worry about us.” His forehead presses against yours, and his eyes slide shut as he takes a deep breath. “I’ll come home with you if that’s truly what you want. Don’t feel obligated or like you have something to make up for because I would never hold something like that against you or for my own selfish gain like that. Just know that, please.”

The ice around your heart had already begun to melt, but now it’s a surreal phenomenon of the cold cage instantly turning into water vapor. You soften in his arms, letting your body speak as well as your words. “This is a choice made of my own volition. It is what I truly want.”

He kisses your forehead softly before pulling away until he’s only holding one of your hands. “Then I’m all in.”

The walk back to the venue is quiet but comfortable. You’re spinning the last several minutes in your head, reliving each kiss. A tingle still lingers on your lips as Hoseok leads you up the stairs and back inside.

“Kitty! Hobi!” Namjoon disrupts your thoughts. He stops in front of you and Hoseok, having just come from what looks like a bathroom down the hall. “Where have you guys been?” he asks, his eyes flicking down to where your hand is still tucked into Hoseok’s. You try to snatch it away, but Hoseok holds firm.

“We went for a walk,” Hoseok says casually as if that’s something normal you and he would do.

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours, and his eyebrow lifts slightly in question. “Just a walk,” you confirm with an awkward laugh. “Everything’s good, Joonie.” You mean that in more ways than one, and can see the understanding shining bright in your brother’s eyes.

“Glad to hear it,” Namjoon says, his lips tugging into a smirk. “So, should I start calling you brother-in-law now?” Those mirth-filled eyes swing to Hoseok.

Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to try and pull his hand from yours. You squeeze his hand, holding tight. “Whoa, man, that’s—Namjoon, I mean—“

“I’m just messing,” Namjoon teases. “I’m just happy to hear it.”

Hoseok relaxes beside you. “You really don’t mind?”

Namjoon claps Hoseok on the shoulder, a large smile taking over his face. “If I can accept Yoongi being with Kitty, I think I can accept you, too. In that, I think you’re the lesser of two evils.”

“Wow,” you grumble. “Don’t you have a husband to attend to or something?” You give Namjoon a pointed look. “A honeymoon to get to?”

“Mmm,” Namjoon hums, absently bringing his hands together in front of him and twirling his silver wedding band. “I believe you’re right. Getting through security at the airport always makes Jin nervous about making it to the gate on time. We could do with a bit of extra time.”

“You mean extra time for him to fuck you in the backseat of the limo,” you quip. Your brother stifles a laugh, his cheeks burning with a deep blush.

“Yes, well, anyway. You’ll be okay staying here? Have you located your cabin?” The venue they booked also has rooms available for the remaining wedding party, small quaint one-room cottages on the other side of the lake.

You wave a dismissive hand. “All’s well, brother, don’t worry. If I get lost, I’m sure I know someone who will help guide the way.”

Namjoon coughs, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Right, okay. On that note, I’m going to go find Jin.”

There are a few other guests staying in the venue accommodations, Hoseok being one of them. After Namjoon and Seokjin are showered with more well wishes and hugs, they leave for the airport. You stand in front of the main venue building, watching the taillights of Seokjin’s car disappear in the distance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

You turn toward the voice. Hoseok is standing at the top of the stairs, his hands casually tucked into his pants pockets. The sight of him, standing there with the flickering gas flame lanterns framing the doorway and casting a halo around him, reminds you of the day he left your apartment after the last argument you had. Except, instead of sadness etched into his features, he’s sporting a soft smile and twinkling eyes.

“Sure,” you agree, making your way up the stairs to him.

Again the walk is silent but comfortable as he walks you along the same path you took earlier in the evening toward the lake. The small cottages are dotted along the backside of the water, their individual walkways and doors softly illuminated with solar garden lights.

“You’re in number seven, right?” Hoseok asks as you approach that particular cottage. “I’m in three.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder back the way you came.

You glance at him, taking in the way the light breeze coming off the lake ruffles his hair across his forehead. His eyes are locked on the ground, his bottom lip firmly trapped between his teeth. “Seven, yeah, that’s me.”

He looks up, noting number seven is coming up next. “Well, thanks for everything tonight. I’m glad we were able to work through some of it and at least have a better perspective for what tomorrow brings.” Hoseok stops at the beginning of the path that leads to your cottage. There is a moment of pause before his eyes come up and lock on yours. “You really are something special, Kitty.”

That makes you shake your head and laugh softly. “We both know I don’t deserve to hear that just yet. Not for a while at least, not until I make up for at least some of the last fifteen years of treating you like undesirable number one.”

“So, how about we start by getting breakfast together in the morning as act number one in our what’s sure to be an epic love story?” He waggles an eyebrow at you, smiling wide.

Getting breakfast with Hoseok sounds like a beautiful start to putting things on the mend, but there’s another part of you that doesn’t want to wait until the morning. It’s a frantic pulse that bleats deep in your chest, urging you to…”Will you stay with me tonight? Or—is that too much? I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Of course you don’t want to—it’s too fast, and—”

Your stuttery backpedaling is firmly cut off with a dizzying kiss. Hoseok gathers you into his arms, hands sliding along the silk covering your back and over your hips. He tastes faintly of the whiskey he took a shot of with the other guys before Namjoon and Seokjin left. The oaky, nutty flavor compliments the deep groan that vibrates from his chest as your tongue seeks further entry into his mouth. He opens for you, readily welcoming the press of your tongue against his.

“I would love that,” he murmurs between light presses of his lips and soft sweeps of his tongue.

It’s probably a spectacle to be seen, the way you and Hoseok stumble toward the door of your cottage. You fumble between your bodies, searching for the small slip pocket along the side seam of your dress where the keycard is. Hoseok grabs it from your shaking fingers once you have it out and slaps it against the electronic reader.

The reader buzzes, the lock clicking as Hoseok pushes on the handle and swings the door open. He tosses the card aimlessly toward a table by the door and kicks the door shut behind you. “Are you sure about this?” you ask, voice airy and thin as you lean back to get your bearings and breath.

“I’ve never been more certain about something. As long as you are?” Hoseok’s coffee-colored eyes flick between yours, clearly looking for any doubts.

Your top teeth bite into your bottom lip as you meet his gaze. “Help me,” you say, turning slowly to give him your back. “The zipper is hidden in the seam.”

Hoseok takes a deep, shuddering breath. His exhale ghosts over your bare shoulder as he leans in. You feel his fingers trail along the back of your dress, searching for the zipper. He makes an appreciative noise as his fingers pinch around the small metal zip and begin to slide it down, exposing the column of your spine.

The dress falls slack, the fabric drooping and catching on your arms as you raise them to hold the front up over your chest. “You’re so beautiful, Kitty,” he whispers, trailing a finger up to between your shoulder blades.

“Take your clothes off and lay down,” you tell him, turning back around and emphasizing the command with a flick of your hand toward the large four-poster bed.

Hoseok’s throat contracts, and you can hear his audible swallow. His tongue pokes out and moves slowly over his lips before he gives you a subtle nod and begins to shrug out of his jacket.

The lilac fabric puddles on top of his shoes as he toes them off. He leaves a trail of clothing in his wake. Discarded socks, dress shirt, and trousers leave him standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but a pair of tight black briefs.

Even with the dark fabric, you can clearly see the distinct outline of his bulging erection. His eyes drop from yours, angling down as his thumbs hook into the band of his underwear. “There’s no going back after you see my dick, you know that, right?” he asks teasingly, pulling the waistband down to expose an inch of his pelvis and the dark shadow underneath.

You scoff playfully. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

With slow, deliberate movements, Hoseok pushes down his briefs and exposes himself to your curious gaze. Your breath catches in your throat, and you try to cover your gasp with a cough. His eyes snap up to yours as his underwear drops loose around his ankles.

A smirk curls his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He should. His cock is as beautiful as he is. You can tell it’ll be velvety smooth without even having touched it yet. It curves slightly upward where it bobs in front of him, a clear glistening bead already forming at the tip.

“Get your ass on the bed,” you snap, more teasing than commanding this time.

“Yes, ma’am,” he snarks lightly as he slides backward onto the bed, arms angled back to keep him sitting upright once he’s in the middle.

You step over his discarded clothes, picking your way across the room, kicking off your sandals in the process. Once you reach the end of the bed, you focus your eyes on Hoseok, let out a slow breath, and loosen your arms from across your chest to let your dress fall. The silk settles around your ankles, the fabric feeling both cool and too hot against your skin.

“See something you like?” you ask Hoseok, luxuriating in the smug feelings that come from how gobsmacked he looks. His mouth hangs open, eyes slightly wider than usual.

Your skin pricks under his sweeping gaze, flushing with heat as his eyes trail your naked body—naked because you couldn’t wear anything under the silk dress without unflattering lines and fabric bunching.

“Yes,” Hoseok admits with a shuddering exhale. He boldly licks his lips, eyes following the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips with appreciation. “Fucking hell.”

“I’m going to ask you some essential questions and set some very important rules. Do you understand?” You roll your shoulders back and straighten your spine, giving Hoseok a look that demands he respond.

His chin jerks in a frantic nod. A slight shine is already covering his forehead, his chest rising and falling rapidly. As you slowly ease your knees onto the bed, on either side of Hoseok’s outstretched legs, you take time to devour the sight of his body entirely.

You’re sure you could spend an entire night tracing the muscled lines of his body, memorizing them with your hands and tongue. He has a dancer's body, chest broad and hips narrow, thighs that you’re certain could support you for hours as you bounce on—fuck—him.

“Nmph,” Hoseok grunts, an unintelligible sound catching in his throat as you spread your legs wider and finally settle against his thighs. You can feel the way his muscles flex under your ass as he swipes his tongue over his lips again. His rigid cock jerks where it rests on his stomach as if trying to rise and seek you out.

You know he can feel the heat of your pussy on his thighs, the sticky wetness of your arousal smearing as you shift from side to side and settle closer. The warmth from his balls settles against your mound, and you sigh in satisfaction.

“Do you know what a safeword is?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever used one?”

“No.”

“We’re going to use one tonight, just to be safe. Do you understand?”

He doesn’t hesitate, the hunger in his eyes saying it before the word falls from his lips. “Yes.”

“You won’t touch without my permission, and you certainly won’t cum unless I say so. Do you understand?”

“I do,” he says, mirroring the words spoken earlier between your brother and his own lover.

“What is your safeword?”

“Purple,” he breathes the word quickly. “Your favorite color.”

You can’t help the quirk of your lips. “You know safewords are supposed to be something personal to you, something that holds meaning in a way that elicits protection in a moment of vulnerability and trust.”

“Purple is personal. It does mean so much to me,” he confesses, eyes fervent with his admission. “It reminds me of you, the person I know no matter how much pain I endure for, you’ll never truly hurt me.”

That has your heart fluttering in your chest will renewed vigor.

“Purple it is, then. If at any time you wish for things to stop, you simply say ‘purple’, and I’ll immediately stop, okay?” you tell him plainly, simply, with intent.

“I understand.” The acknowledgement rings through the room, settling between your thighs with an earnest ache. He slides his arms forward, no longer holding himself up, and lays down.

You lean forward, planting your hands on Hoseok’s chest for leverage as you shimmy your hips. His hands fist into the comforter on either side of where your knees spread around his waist.

“Remember, no touching,” you smirk, catching the way his fingers flex against the bed.

Lifting your ass just enough to slide your slick core over his balls, you settle on his throbbing shaft. You can feel your lower lips spreading, splitting around his cock in a wet, warm kiss. The underside of the head presses against your clit as you rock your hips slightly.

A strangled moan breaks past his lips as they pop open, his lashes fluttering, his eyes roll back, and his back arches slightly. “Fuck,” he pants as his back hits the bed again.

You set a slow, teasing rhythm, grinding yourself back and forth over his shaft. With every backward slide, your clit catches on the head of his cock, and you both begin to whimper from the sensation. “You feel so good.” You peer down at him through your lashes, eyes half-mast as you undulate your hips repeatedly.

Wetness covers his lower stomach, a combined mix of both of your arousals. You can feel how you drip on his cock with each new sweep of your lower lips over it, the teasing pleasure sending fluttery aches along your inner walls.

“Need to be inside you,” he whines. “Please!”

His hips tilt, and the head of his cock catches on your opening, almost sinking in before you pull back and give him a sharp look. “Not until I say so,” you tell him hotly. His chest heaves under your hands, pupils so wide they’ve nearly devoured the coffee color of his eyes. You don’t start moving again until he nods his understanding; precious moments that test your own resolve.

Pleasure ripples down your spine as you begin to move a little faster, seeking that precipice of ecstasy that’s so tantalizingly close. Hoseok flexes his hips under you, adding extra pressure to your clit. You consider admonishing him for it, but it feels too damn good.

To distract yourself, you brush your fingers over his well-defined chest, fingers flicking over his taut nipples. His chest shudders with each pass of your nimble fingers. You pinch one between your fingers, appreciating how his eyes flutter and his teeth gnaw at his bottom lip when you do.

“Fuck. Harder,” he moans. You indulge him, twisting and pinching at his pert nipple until he’s letting out harsh grunts and mewls. “That feels so—ungh—good!”

Leaning down, you lave your tongue over the hot peak of flesh, then blow a cooling puff of air over it. Hoseok jerks under you, and you catch the way his hands almost come up to touch you, but they snap back to the bedspread as he huffs in frustration.

“Good boy,” you murmur, licking at his nipple again before taking it between your teeth and gently tugging.

“If you—ungh—keep doing that—npmh—I’m going to c-cum.” Hoseok tips his chin back, moaning loudly.

“As much as I’d love to test that statement…” you trail off, slowing your hips to a leisurely roll and giving his nipple one final, tiny bite. “A bit of a pain slut, hmm? Maybe next time,” you finally murmur, more to yourself than Hoseok, eyes locked on his now swollen, dark nipple as your thumb soothes it with small circles.

Hoseok cries out a strangled mix of relief and disappointment as you brace up on your knees and lift your wet lips from where they are, hugging his girth. “Please,” he begs softly. “I need you.”

“Wrap your hand around your cock. Hold it up for me.”

He’s quick to obey, sliding a hand under you and wrapping his fingers tightly around his flushed, sticky length. “You have such a pretty pussy,” he says, his eyes drifting from where his hand is holding the base of his cock to your dripping core that is now lowering back down.

You wish you could see what he’s seeing. You’re sure it would be a sight to behold—how your pussy swallows him inch by inch. It has to look as good as it feels. You’re so worked up; it’s an easy slide but still snug enough to make you both exhale shaky breaths as you bottom out, and your walls pulse around him as they adjust.

“Is this why you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate me back?” you whisper, eyes blazing with fire and mischief. “You liked it when I was mean to you. Got off on it, didn’t you?” You tweak his nipple again and slowly begin to fuck yourself on his thick length. “Did it get your dick hard whenever I’d yell or sneer at you?”

His hips roll to meet yours with a satisfying thrust. “You have no idea how often I’ve cum all over myself thinking about you taking a riding crop to my ass or shoving a ball gag in my mouth.” His words are brazen, ragged, and full of honesty. “Is that what you want to hear? You want me to tell you all about my twisted, fucked up fantasies?”

“Yes!” you mewl, increasing your rhythm and intensity. “Touch me.” It’s a low command, but Hoseok hears you as if you’d screamed it.

Resounding twin smacks echo through the room as his hands land on your ass. “Fuck, yeah,” he moans, using the grip on your ass to encourage your movement until you’re bouncing up and down so hard you can feel his cock kissing the deepest part of you.

“Hoseok!” His name tumbles out like a curse, your eyes rolling back and your nails digging into his chest as your orgasm slams through you, taking you by surprise.

“That’s right, baby, oh fuck!” Hoseok slides his arms up and wraps them around you, dragging you down to his chest. His hips continue to work under you, forcing his cock in and out of your pussy’s tight, pulsing clasp. “I’m going to cum inside you,” he mumbles half-coherently.

Warmth floods between your thighs as he jerks and shudders against you. You can feel every throbbing jet of his cum as he releases. “Mmm,” you can’t help the pleasured moan as your body continues to flutter around him, greedily accepting his offering.

“Need to make you cum again,” Hoseok pants.

“Mm, Hos—“ What was going to be a half-hearted protest turns into a soft puff of air as he flips you both, your back hitting the mattress.

“Please, Kitty, please let me worship you just a little longer.” His bright eyes bore into yours, pleading. He looks so strung out, in a dizzying, sexy way, the way he’s slumped over you, as if in supplication for his need to please you.

“Be gentle,” you whisper.

He slowly leans back, chest expanding and hollowing with stilted breaths. His eyes trace a path along your body, followed by his hands. Hoseok molds his hands around the curve of your breasts, down the planes of your stomach and sides, until they’re firmly planted on your inner thighs. With the slightest amount of pressure, he pushes your legs open, exposing where he’s still nestled tightly inside you.

“Oh,” Hoseok breathes. His cock slides out of you slowly. You can feel the thick dribble of cum that follows slide down your ass. A moan works out of him as he catches the drip with two fingers and gently pushes it back into you. “I didn’t think your pussy could get any prettier, but I have to say…it’s a fucking masterpiece full of and dripping in my cum.”

The filthy words go straight to your core, making your walls squeeze and another gush of cum to drip out. He tuts softly, a wicked grin on his face as he repeats the process of pushing it back in. “Mmnh.” It’s your turn to moan as he slowly strokes his fingers in, out, then over your clit. “Hoseok. Please, make me feel good again.”

He growls his approval before burying his face above where his fingers still stroke inside you. The way his tongue dances over and around your clit has that edge barreling toward you almost instantly. You’re still quite sensitive, your body poised for more pleasure. Hoseok licks and sucks at your clit, setting your body alight with tingling bursts of indulgence.

“Cum for me,” Hoseok encourages, renewing his efforts with his fingers and tongue.

It’s a lingering moment, teetering on the edge. But the plunge is swift and all-consuming. Flashes of white spark behind your closed lids as you slam your eyes shut, and your head kicks back, mouth opening in a silent scream. It’s like dancing on moonbeams, floating in a galaxy of hedonistic pleasure, and wrapping yourself in the warmth from the sun that you know as Hoseok.

Hoseok places a last, lingering kiss on your clit, making you shudder, before leaning up and catching your gaze. The bottom half of his face is glistening, a combination of your cum and his. He licks at his lips, giving you a roguish smile. The sound of his fingers pulling out of your still-quivering body is obscene but makes you sigh happily regardless. A pleasant ache throbbing between your thighs is a sure sign that you just experienced far more pleasure than you have in a really, really long time.

“That was…I’m not even sure how to describe it,” you admit, opening your arms in silent command. Hoseok immediately slides into the open space, turning on his side and pulling you with him so you’re chest to chest.

He brushes his lips over yours, peppering you with soft, languid pecks. “I would say it was the perfect fresh start.” He leans back slightly, his eyes finding yours. You can see a sobering moment in them. “I mean that, Kitty. I don’t want this to just be for tonight. I want to make this work…I want to be with you, figure this out together. As long as you’ll have me.”

“I want that, too.”

And, the longer you stare into his eyes, the more you realize that there is no hate left in your heart…all there is, are the stars shining back at you.

⇽ Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-07-20 ColorMePurplex2

[euphorajeon]

'make it right' with jk for the 1k celebration pleeeaaaasssseeee 🫶

light of the morning

— request: jeongguk + make it right - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 2.7k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst, they're best friends, insecurities and self-doubt thoughts.

— summary: in the eternal night that seems endless, jeongguk finds his peace in the light of the morning.

— author's note: hi anon! thanks for requesting :) summary is obviously inspired by the lyrics of make it right, which i used as the general inspiration for the story. i hope it doesn't stray too far from what you had in mind, hehe. enjoy!

a continuation of opposite of sun. i suggest to read that first before reading this!

masterlist

‘Jeongguk Takes Over Times Square With a Surprise Performance’

‘Massive Crowd Gathers In Times Square for a Jeongguk Surprise Performance’

‘Jeongguk Surprises Times Square Crowd With a Free Concert’

It’s been a day since Jeongguk’s surprise performance at Times Square, and the media headlines praising his performance just keep flooding in. In the articles, there were no flaws in his performance. Impeccable. Perfect. The media especially highlighted the way his fans only got a 30-minute notice before the performance, yet they were able to fill up the streets of Times Square. They were loud, singing along to his songs word for word, and Jeongguk is so proud.

The praises didn’t only come from online articles, they also came from the radio hosts and interviewers who were lined up in Jeongguk’s schedule today. It’s refreshing to answer questions outside of the usual ‘What’s your favorite food to eat in the US?’ and about his surprise performance instead. Jeongguk is grateful that his manager, Namjoon, scheduled these interviews after the performance instead of before it.

“Do I have any more interviews for today?” Jeongguk asks Namjoon, peeking at the clock on his phone. It’s only a little after seven in the evening. He knows it’s a silly question to ask, already knowing the answer by the look on Namjoon’s face.

“You have two more, actually,” Namjoon answers regardless. “Plus taping for two songs for one of them. I thought you knew this already?”

“Uh, yeah, just making sure.” Jeongguk clears his throat, eyes still on his phone.

“You’ve been checking your phone a lot today. Something wrong?” Namjoon inquires, a worried look replacing the duh one he had on his face earlier.

“No. Everything’s okay.”

Yes, something is very wrong.

It’s been more than a day since he video-called you, a little over a day since his performance at Times Square, and little less than a day since he texted you the YouTube link of said performance. In that time frame, his phone is completely void of any notification from you. No texts, no calls, even no tweets or an Instagram DM. You’ve been totally silent and it’s starting to get on his nerves. Why are you leaving him in the dark?

“You sure? You look like you want to punch someone.”

What he wants is praise from you! No, he doesn’t want it, he needs it. All the flowery words from the media and radio hosts mean nothing if he hasn’t heard one from you. Ever since he started his singing career, your opinion has always been one of the first ones he seeks. Without it, he’s lost. Left wondering whether his performance deserved the accolades, or they were only for his pretty face.

“Jeongguk, we’re here. Put a mask on and smile. You can worry about your best friend later,” Namjoon says the moment the car comes to a stop in the parking lot of a building somewhere in New York. Jeongguk looks at him as he’s getting off the vehicle, confused. His manager throws him a small smile. “Don’t look like that, it’s kinda obvious you’re thinking about her.”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, hyung,” Jeongguk sighs. “I have the right to be worried.”

“You’re not the only one with stuff to do, you know? Maybe she’s busy too. I’m sure she’s fine,” Namjoon tries to reassure him. “Give her a call after this, to ease your mind.”

Namjoon is right. You’re probably busy juggling midterms and your part-time job back home. The chasm he felt yesterday opens back up, gaping to remind him that you two are worlds apart. Superstar Jeongguk who replies to texts in seven business days has no right demanding a reply from a regular college student after only one day.

Two more interviews. Two more songs to perform. Then he can hear your voice, see your face, and everything is going to be okay again.

Jeongguk finishes his schedule for the day a little after 1 AM. He tries to call you in the car, on the way back to his hotel. No answer. Tries again when he reaches his hotel room. Then tries again after he showered and changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in.

Ten missed calls.

Jeongguk goes to sleep with a dark cloud in his mind, completely restless.

In the morning, when the sun is already up—the way the moon is in Seoul, where you are—Jeongguk cracks his eyes open to stare at the ceiling in his room, his heart still heavy with worry. Also heavy is his head when he sits up on his huge hotel bed, likely due to his tossing and turning in his sleep all night. It doesn’t help that his lockscreen is still void of notifications labeled with your name. You’ve been MIA for almost two full days. Where are you?

He sends seven more bubbles in your chatroom, a sigh slipping past his lips when the tiny word under the blue bubble only reads delivered. He’s on his last thread of hope when he clicks on your contact picture to video call you, and that thread snaps when all he’s staring at on the screen is his own puffy and tired face.

Maybe he should order some breakfast. Get something to munch on, pry his mind away from the thought of you and what you’re up to in a country far, far away from where he is. He hopes you’re okay. He hopes you aced that midterm you were up until three to study for (although you spent the good part of the last hour talking to him on FaceTime). He hopes you’re eating well and not some instant cup ramyeon or shitty take-out from the Chinese place by your apartment that you frequent because it’s cheap.

After skimming through the room service menu, Jeongguk places an order of breakfast enough to feed five people. (What? He needs his energy. And a distraction.) The kind hotel staff who took his order informed him that his food will be ready in around 20 minutes. Good. Plenty of time to track his schedule for today and not think about you. (So much for a distraction.)

As it turns out, his itinerary for today is not packed with work schedule. Namjoon had only written ‘Explore’ along with a note to bring the camera noona who usually follows Jeongguk around to film all of his adventures as an idol. Said “adventure” is typically limited to dressing rooms of music shows, though. Oh, maybe Namjoon wants him to stroll around the city and make a vlog out of it, give his fans a little peek of what he does in his down time in New York.

In order to do that, he has to shower, get dressed, and maybe get his makeup done. He definitely needs to get his hair done, though, there’s no way he’s going out with this bird nest atop his head. Or maybe he could go natural, let his hair breathe for the day. Namjoon said it makes him look like a college boyfriend, and apparently, his fans love the look. Throw some hoodie and jeans on, and Jeongguk would be ready to go to class with you.

Ah, you again.

His mindless scrolling on Twitter in procrastination halts, the words on his phone not registering as his mind goes back to you. What would it feel like to go to class with you? To watch your focused face in class, trying to absorb knowledge from the professor? To be there next to you, answer your question whenever you struggle to grasp a concept? To be your college boy—

A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.

Jeongguk stills, waits for the shout of room service! to follow, but it never comes. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only been 10 minutes since he ordered breakfast, so maybe it’s not room service after all. Maybe it’s a staff member, coming to tell him to get ready for the day.

As Jeongguk makes his way to the door, come some more knocks, this time more tentative than the one prior. Before he could reach the door, the person on the other side speaks.

“Jeongguk..?” It sounds muffled by the door, but the voice rings familiar in his ears. It’s the voice he last heard almost two days ago, via a video call connection between New York and Seoul. Could it be? No, it couldn’t … right?

Jeongguk’s eyes are right in front of the peephole just as the voice sounds again: “It’s me, Bun…”

There, in front of his hotel door, stands a girl 15 centimeters shorter than him, dressed in black jeans and her favorite sage green sweater, with a lump of black fabric hanging off her left arm. A faded black baseball cap sits on her head, so faded it looks almost navy. When she finally looks up to peek at the peephole, Jeongguk loses his breath.

It’s you. It’s really you.

Jeongguk is so stunned that he’s frozen in place, just staring at your confused expression that slowly morphs into one of anxiety.

“Did Namjoon give me the wrong room number..?” you mumble, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Jeongguk has never yanked a door open that hard in his life.

You tear your eyes away from your phone, jumping in surprise at the sudden movement. His eyes lock with yours, and the shock on your face melts into a smile.

“Hi!”

You’re obviously exhausted, having just got off a 14-hour flight from Seoul, moving 13 timezones backward, seeing the sun when you’re supposed to see the moon. But the way you beam at him is full of glee, your eyes bright despite the obvious fatigue. Jeongguk is mesmerized.

Wordlessly, he reaches for your shoulders to pull you into a hug. They feel more prominent than the last time he hugged you, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from your haphazard eating schedule or just … time. He doesn’t remember when he last gave you a hug. Doesn’t remember the last time he saw you in the flesh like this.

“You just woke up, didn’t you?” you say from somewhere near his collarbone.

“Maybe,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Maybe not. I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

“Up in the clouds, are we?” you chuckle. “Well, if you’re done dreaming then maybe we could come in? Backpack’s starting to hurt my shoulders.”

It’s right at that second that Jeongguk just realizes the huge backpack hanging off your small frame. The poor bag is bursting at the seams, like it’s gonna comically explode if you even try to unzip it. Jeongguk closes his fingers around the small handle on top, testing the weight.

“Did you fit your whole life into this? Why is it so heavy?” he complains, immediately untangling your arms from his body so he can slide the backpack off you and onto him instead. “I feel like I’m about to do the 20 kilometers march in the military.”

“Hah! Try navigating JFK with that on your shoulders. It’s way harder than the military,” you huff, following Jeongguk into his hotel room.

He sets your backpack down on one of the couches, turning around to get answers to a thousand questions in his head, but pauses when he sees you’re still standing by the door. Your eyes are scanning the room slowly, stopping at Jeongguk to look at him with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” Jeongguk says.

“It’s huge,” you say. “The room, I mean. They usually are in your vlogs, but it’s different seeing it in person.”

This could turn into another conversation about their differences quickly, but Jeongguk is not in the mood to deal with distance today. For once, you’re an arms-length away from him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up and send you back to KST, 13 timezones away.

“Eh, I think your backpack is bigger.” He shrugs. Safe route, for now. “What do you have inside that bag, really?”

“My brick ass laptop, thank you,” you say sarcastically, finally going deeper into the room just to give your backpack a protective hug. “Still have a midterm to finish and submit here.”

“You still have midterms and you’re here in New York?” Jeongguk gapes. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to be here,” you state like it’s obvious. “Well, not like that, but you looked so sad on our last video call that I booked a flight here as soon as we hung up the call. Didn’t really realize the weight of it until I was watching your performance with Yeseo and I blurted out that I bought a ticket to New York and how maybe it was a stupid thing to do on a whim like that. She looked at me like I was stupid and said I should totally go. So. Here I am.”

If selective hearing is a sin, then Jeongguk would be guilty because he heard nothing beyond the part where you said you were watching his performance.

“You watched my performance?” He parrots his thoughts. “But you said you would have been asleep…”

“No sleep is worth my best friend’s sadness.” You throw him a small smile. “Actually, Yeseo set an alarm for it. And then I went to have the midterm with a terrible headache because I didn’t get enough sleep. But it’s worth it, the performance was amazing. You did great on that stage.”

“I did great…?”

At this point, Jeon Jeongguk should change his name to Parrot Jeongguk, because all he ever does is just repeat things he heard. First his thoughts, now you.

“Yes, of course you did great, Jeongguk. Wasn’t it obvious, the way your fans were screaming their lungs out for you?”

I only wanted to hear it from you, Jeongguk thinks. The media headlines and praises from the radio hosts and interviewers flash in his mind, all positive feedback for his performance, yet still planted a seed of doubt in his mind. It caused an ugly darkness to settle in his mind, one that worsened with every call you didn’t pick up.

“Why’d you ghost me, then?”

Way to ruin this moment, Jeon Jeongguk.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. Between catching up on sleep and rushing for the flight, I just didn’t have the time to look at my phone at all. Also, I was on the plane? It takes a long time to get here from Korea if you didn’t know.”

“So it’s not because my performance is bad?”

You get up from your position on the couch to grip him on the shoulders, your nails digging into the material of his t-shirt. You have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes, but you hold his gaze firmly like the position doesn’t hurt you at all.

“Jeon Jeongguk, listen to me. Your performance was great, you looked handsome, your singing was on-point, your high note was awesome, your dancing was super cool, and the crowd was really loud. I don’t know what kind of validation you seek, but I personally think everything about your performance was perfect.”

Yours. I only want your validation.

Slowly, the darkness in his mind begins to disperse, replaced by this warm beam of light piercing through the clouds. It settles in his mind like a blanket, protecting him from any more bad thoughts. He thinks it’s because of you, bringing light wherever you go. Can that light be shared with him? Will he glow from the inside out if he connects his lips with yours? Why does he want to lock lips with you?

“Jeongguk, are you okay? You look like you’re floating in the clouds again.”

Yeah. No. I want to press my lips against yours. Can I?

Three knocks sound from the door. And then: room service!

Jeongguk clears his throat (and his mind along with it.)

“Do you want to explore New York with me after we have breakfast?”

Jeongguk might want more, and he might be ready to admit it. After all, the light to his darkness is here. If not now, then when?

“Sure, it’ll be a fun best friend adventure!”

…maybe some other time.

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm planning to have a part 3 of this but let's see if i can actually find the time to write it ahah

[forlix]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡