#jimin x tall reader

[iarchmybaculaa]

Pairing: Ex! Jungkook x reader

Rating: 18+ (Please be mindful of what you consume)

Warnings: Jungkook is subjectively a little toxic, Mentions of an ongoing divorce, possessive! Jungkook, Girl Dad! Jungkook, unprotected sex (don't do that irl), oral sex (f receiving), Slight brat reader, Jeon Jungkook is a menace, reader is implied to be black

Word count: 5.2 k (I think)

🎧: Woo- Rihanna

For: @hobicakess and Paige💗

Jungkook is good at a lot of things

Hes a fantastic singer. He dances very well (even if he likes to fein shyness at parties). Jungkook can cook, he can multitask seamlessly and (almost) effortlessly, and he can put Jinhae to sleep in a matter of minutes… It would be much easier to list the things that Jungkook isn't good at.

Jungkook isn't very good at sharing.

He doesn't like sharing food, clothes or people.

You think it may be his biggest if not only flaw.

Jungkook considers the people in his life his. He doesn't expect them to have the same importance in someone else's life, as they do in his. And he doesn't expect them to think of other people the way they do of him, either.

You don't know if it's because he fears that he'll be replaced, or because he was raised as an only child. But whatever it was, Jungkook let it consume him. Holistically.

You remember how he had reacted when Yoongi- his mentor,had taken on a new intern. Jungkook and Yoongi had attended the same highschool within a few years of each other; and had met again when Yoongi was a TA at SNU. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing, as less of a student, and more like a little brother; and their bond lasted way beyond college. Yoongi was so proud of Jungkook that he was practically All he spoke about. Jungkook had gotten used to things being that way.

Then one day, all of a sudden, Yoongi was no longer “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook”; he was all “Jimin, Jimin, Jimin” much to the Younger's chagrin.

To his credit, Jungkook was nothing but nice to Jimin during the time he worked for Yoongi. He bought him coffee once in a while and even invited him out for drinks whenever the opportunity arose. Jimin was cool. Jungkook would even go as far as to say that Jimin was his friend. Jungkook barely knew the guy! He had nothing against him.

It was Yoongi he was pissed at.

Yoongi was the one who owed Jungkook his loyalty. Yoongi was the one who had nursed Jungkook through his first hangover, and held him when he cried about failing a class. Yoongi was there when Jungkook got his first, off campus apartment. Yoongi was Jungkook 's Yoongi.

At first, Yoongi didn't understand it. It made no sense that Jungkook seemed so fond of Jimin, yet he soured whenever the latter's name was mentioned. It gave him whiplash. It went on for a solid month and a half of Jungkook's scowls and petulant pouts for Yoongi to finally realize that something was deeply wrong, and that he needed to get to the bottom of it.

It took 2 bottles of soju and 3 glasses of whiskey for Jungkook to crack. His reasoning was so funny that Yoongi almost didn't feel bad for laughing at him. All it took to pacify Jungkook was for Yoongi to give him a hug, followed by a quick

“you'll always be hyung's favourite, Kook-ah.” as he ruffled his hair.

Jungkook was only 22 when that had happened. And he'd like to believe he's grown a lot since then.

He's advanced enough in his career that he's not Mr. Bang's payroll anymore, but rather pays him. Jungkook has grown in a literal sense too, having had a growth spurt one random day after he turned 23 (there was no containing him once he realized that he was 6 feet tall) .

Jungkook has (helped) create life; your daughter Jinhae. It's the thing he's proudest of, second only to marrying you.

But Jungkook is only human.

So it's only natural that he feels an itch rise on the back of his neck everytime he picks Jinhae up from your apartment, and all she can talk about is your new boyfriend.

He got so…irritated the more Jinhae babbled on about “Woo- Woo” that he felt a little silly. But who could blame him? He would be holding Jinhae 's hand as they walked through the park for their daddy daughter time, and every other sentence would be about this ‘’Woo Woo”.

Seokjin had once joked that she had switched from being 'Daddy's girl' to 'Woo-Woo’s girl' , and Jungkook 's body took a screenshot. He shot Jin a look so vile, that the older stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

Jungkook really had tried to ignore it as best as possible. And he (thought) he was doing fairly well until that evening, when Jinhae had let it slip that:

‘’Mama kissed Woo-Woo today.”

He had just picked her up from her taekwondo class, and was about to pull out of the parking lot when Jinhae gave him the oh so lovely news.

Jungkook isn't a monster, he thinks he's let this little charade go on for much longer than was respectable. He wasn't going to let that slide.

He took a sharp left and sped down the highway. If he wasn't so caught up in his head, he would've heard Jinhae 's excited scream of:

“YAY! we're going to Uncle Yoonie's house’

You had just finished taking a long, warm bath. Your feet had been aching, and your back felt worse than it did before you had gotten your epidural. You needed a break; desperately.

The silence in the apartment was a welcome change.

You loved Jinhae with all your heart, but children were tiring to deal with alone. Children could be incredibly difficult, just for the fun of it. Especially spoilt, almost-five year olds who are used to their daddy obeying their every beck and call.

God forbid you didn't do “ the voice” right, after reading “The little Prince” five times in a row! suddenly you were public enemy number one.

At least you could bask in the fact that Jinhae never threw (noisy) tantrums or threw things, but you felt that she had quadruple the attitude your hus- ex, accused you of having.

But tonight, the only attitude you have to worry about dealing with, was from Kim when you researched the earliest seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians. What can you say? There's truly nothing funnier to you than upper class white women trying to be relatable. To this dat, their target audience was a mystery to you. You can't think of a single person whose biggest problem was how many times their name got googled in a day. You find it hard to take anything they ‘’go through' seriously, because if we're being honest, people really are dying Kim!

You walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft white robe.

You reach for the the lilac, silk pajama set laid out on your bed. You had bought it from an online lingerie store, after a few glasses of wine a few weeks ago. You had been so…bored that you did the most exciting thing your numb brain could come up with in that moment.

You scoff at your past self. It was more cute than anything, not nearly as scandalous as some of the items you have hidden in the back of your closest. But you're not complaining.

The shorts are a bit shorter than you expected, but the silk is soft a high quality, and the lace that lines the top isn't itchy at all. You untwist your bun, and your braids cascade down your shoulders. You grab the bottle of black castor oil from your dresser, and run the nozzle along the parts. You sigh as you reach up to massage your scalp.

It's in little moments like these that you miss Jungkook the most. You hate to admit, but you used to be just as spoilt as Jinhae. Jungkook used to pamper you in every way possible. He would oil your scalp for you, order your hair products months in advance so that you'd never run out, and give you massages whenever your shoulders stood too rigid.

But you didn't have Jungkook anymore. You suck your teeth in annoyance at yourself for thinking about him so much.

You had just finished applying your vitamin c serum to your face, when you heard an incessant pounding on your door. You pause your music just as Kali Uchis asks if she can get a kiss. You're confused as to why someone is knocking on your door, when you have a very obvious doorbell attached to the frame. It's even stranger given what time it is.

You slip your feet into your cow print night slippers, as you step off the plush rug that lay on the floor in front of your vanity; and unto the floor.

The slippers slap against the floor as you walk towards the living room, and to whoever the hell wouldn't stop pounding on your door at 9pm on a Friday.

You throw the door open, ready to demand an explanation when you stop dead in your tracks.

To say you're surprised at who is standing at your door would be an understatement. You're not sure who you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't Jungkook. You're even more surprised to see him without Jinhae in tow.

You don't think that you've been alone with Jungkook for more than a few minutes at a time since the divorce; and even so, Jinhae has always been just a few feet away.

You feel worry start to settle in your stomach.

“Where's JJ? Is she okay?” You ask, praying that what came out of his mouth next isn't bad news.

He chuckes. It's a sound that comes from deep inside his chest and reverberates across the empty hallway. It's an empty laugh, with no humour behind it. It makes a chill run up and down your spine.

“Jinie is fine. She's with Yoongi; and she's the last of your worries right now” he says.

For once, Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile the entire time he's been in your presence. It's obvious that he's mad, but you're not sure at what. You're not sure that you vare.

He isn't wearing a suit right now, and you can't recall the last time you'd seen him in anything but.

Jungkook worked extraordinarily long hours. You knew that working late and being burnt out would be a part of his life, especially the more his business grew, but it hadn't phased you at the time. There was nothing to be phased about.

At the time, Jungkook always put you first. And when Jinhae was born, he did the same thing. There was never a time where he had left you to fend for yourself with a newborn. He had been there through it all. From colic, to 3 am feedings to explosive diaper changes. He had never let you feel alone as a parent, or in your marriage.

Until around 8 months ago that is.

8 months ago, you feel like Jungkook had just stopped trying.

You know for a fact that Jungkook is terrified of being poor. It's why he always has another merger to make with one of his three companies, and dips his toes into every industry imaginable. His influence spanned over tech, real estate and even clothing. You think Jungkook's fear is understandable, you don't think it's fair. It was teetering on the edge of paranoia and greed.

He was trying so bad to make sure that he could take care of his family, that he wasnt.

He would get home from work after Jinhae went to bed, and left before she got ready for school. You had spent one too many nights falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home; only to wake up in your bed the next morning with a handwritten note on your bathroom mirror. They were sweet and all..but not much more.

As much as you appreciated the affirmations, his words meant nothing when there was no action behind them. Promises to come home home early the, family outings that never happened… You felt like you were a kid whose love was expected to be bought with money, and placated with empty commitments all over again. You could count on a bouquet of roses being delivered at your door every morning, more than you could count on your own husband being there.

You hated it.

You were starting to hate him.

It had gotten to a point where Jungkook had just given his secretary reign over his personal phone. You almost lost your mind when you had called him to ask what he wanted for dinner once, and she answered and told you that he was busy.

You could hear Jungkook 's laughter in the background, and the noise was not a professional setting. In fact, it sounded a lot more intimate and cozy. Like a restaurant or small bar. You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't even get the chance to talk to Jungkook about it, because you barely saw him.

The look on his face when you served him the divorce papers in person at his office was borderline comical. His eyes had widened so far out of their sockets, that you thought the expression was causing him physical pain. You had said nothing. You simply handed him the papers and stayed long enough for him to read the heading. He clearly wanted to communicate through words on paper, so who were you to not oblige him with some?

As far as you know, Jungkook had never signed the papers, but he did follow all the other conditions you had outlined in your petition for separation.

He got an apartment for you and Jinhae in a building he didn't own, and was never late for any pickups or dropoffs, save for once when he had the flu.

A part of you had forgotten how young Jungkook was.

The suits he wore aged him plenty. Not in an old, haggard way, but in a way that made him appear more refined and serious than he actually was. His hair was always cut short and clicked away from his face. The collars of his shirts were always ironed to sharpness. Hell, he even wore sensible shoes.

If you hadn't seen every inch of Jungkook 's body before, and gone to college with him…You would have pegged him for an uptight dogooder. You're sure it helped him get taken seriously in the corporate world, but overtime, it was as if Jungkook had forgotten his roots. As if he had morphed into a no nonsense, mormon-esque version of himself.

But the Jungkook standing before you now, is the Jungkook you know and lov- respected. Jungkook who proudly wore his colorful sleeve of tattoos,silver hoops through his lips and a stud in his nose. The Jungkook who liked to wear cargo pants and oversized shirts with stomper boots he could barely walk straight in.

You knew he had showered before he had come over, because his hair was still curly. He hadn't blow-dried it. His hair is much longer than it was when you had last saw him. It fell past his eyes now. He had started growing it out sgain because Jinhae told him she wanted to. At least, that's what he had told you.

What had really happened was that Jinhae had been asking a lot of questions about “ when appa wasn't so old” one Saturday when they had gone out for ice cream.

“Appa, Mommy says your hair used to be w-eally long and pwetty. Can it come back? Mommy misses it.”

Jungkook hadn't cut his hair again since.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” He asks, one eyebrow raised at you.

You fold your arms across your chest.

“I'm not sure why I should. Besides, I don't think that this is a good time.”

“Oh? Why's that? You lip expecting someone else,princess?’ He takes in your attire from head to toe. His eyes linger for a little too long in your chest. His voice goes deeper as he struggles to finish his last question.

You don't answer, and it makes his eye twitch.

It's so ridiculous, yet so on brand of him to create a hypothetical scenario in his head and get all eaten up about it. He takes a deep breath.

He doesn't want to blow his fuse. Not here, Not yet.

“ I need to talk to you. Inside. Please.” He asks, but it's not really a request.

You roll your eyes and turn your back to him as you walk away.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches your ass jiggle in the tiny shorts. He enters behind you, and the door closes softly with a click.

You walk over to the fridge and grab the unfinished can of Arizona Iced tea, and a glass from the cupboard. You were looking forward to having a glass of wine tonight, but if you were going to talk to Jungkook… you needed to be stone cold sober.

“You want anything?” You ask, as you pour the content into the glass. “ I think I have some b-”

“What I want is answers.” He says simply, leaning in the arched entryway.

You look at him with confusion written all over your face, before your pettiness takes over.

“ Oh yeah? Well I wanted signed divorce papers, and yet here we are.”

You take a swig from your cup and let the sweetness of the drink coat your tongue.

You see Jungkook release a breath so deep that his entire body shakes.

“ Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says with his arms crossed against his chest. “Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

You're getting irritated now, because for one, what the hell is he talking about, and two…Who was Jungkook to talk to you like that?

“Jungkook. First of all, she's our kid. And secondly, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And even if I did… I wouldn't tell you jack shit. What or who I do is none of your business.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the threshold and starts walking towards you. His steps are slow and strong. His strides are long,and he has your back pressed into the counter in a matter of seconds.

You haven't been so close to Jungkook in so long, that everything about him overwhelms you in the best way possible. He smells so, so good. He smells like sandalwood and warm vanilla. He smells like home. His proximity to you is dizzying, and you can only pray that you'll keep it together.

He puts his arm on one side of you, leaving your left completely open. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. You stayed in place. It tells him everything he needs to know.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind Y/N?” He questions. He reaches for your left hand and your heart sinks down to your ass. The diamond of your wedding ring glitters under the lights hanging from the the ceiling. The princess cut stone is practically mocking you.

“What do you think I gave you this ring for huh? Fun? Fucking decoration?” He jests, “You know, for someone who never shuts her big mouth up about divorce, you sure keep this on don't you baby?”

You don't deny it. There's no point in doing so. You know that if you do, he'll lift the ring upwards. And you know that when he does, he'll find the unmistakable circle of a tan line wrapping around your ring finger.

He strokes his thumb against your cheek, and you almost preen at his touch. “Who's ‘Woo- Woo’ baby?”

“None of your business.” You bite out.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick skull, that you are my business?!”

He runs his hand through his long hair, and you can see his face so much better. He's as beautiful as you remember and he's right in front of you.

You don't know who leaned in first, but you do know how soft lips feel as they press against yours. You fell the metal of his lip piercings touch the roof of your mouth as you suck his lip into you mouth.

He puts his hand under your ass, and your legs wrap around him on instinct. He lifts you and bring you over to the cool marble of the kitchen island.

His hand tugs on the hem of your blouse, and you pull away from him.

“Kook, we can't.” You whine as you pull away.

Jungkook uses his thumb to wipe some of the spit from the corner of your mouth, and fixes your shirt so your boob is no longer at risk of spilling out.

“Okay baby, we'll stop and we can talk over dinner. Do you want me to make something or do you want to get takeout?” He asked as he pulls away from you.

He doesn't get very far, because you wrap your legs around him, and pull you back to him.

“Wait- I didn't really mean that.” You whisper. Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion that you weren't just talking about telling him no.

“You want me baby?”

You nod your head yes, too embarrassed to open your mouth lest your voice shake.

He cradles your face, and tilts it upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You answer affirmatively, reaching forwards to capture his lips again.

Youre not even thinking about the Pandora's box that you might be opening; and quite frankly? You don't care.

You're acutely aware that you wont be able to blame your decision on being drunk or tipsy. The only thing driving you was a burning need to have Jungkook deep inside you (where he belonged).

He litters kisses along your neck as he slides his hand down your shorts. Your hips buck forward on instinct, and you shudder as you feel his fingers ghost your clit.

“Why are you naked under here?” He growls out. grip tightening around you waist. “I'm starting to think that you were expecting someone tonight.” he muses.

He spreads your folds with two fingers, reveling in the way your arousal leaks out of you and unto his fingers.

“ Is that why you're so eager, baby? Hm? Is that why you're so wet? You decided that you were gonna get fucked one way or another? Is that it?”

He asks each question as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. It shallow. He doesn't allow you the pleasure of going further than his first knuckle. You try to grind down on his digits, but he holds your hips down with his free hand.

“Whoever you've been giving my pussy away to, hasn't been doing a very good job... have they?” He groans as you clench around him.

“Jungkook please. I want-”

“Shh baby, I know. I'll give it to you I promise. Just give me one first” he begs as he speeds up his circles on your clit.

He sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your neck, and you cum almost instantly. Your body shakes and you wrap your arms around his neck as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

You barely have time to recover before he's pulling your shorts down, and cleaning up the mess you made. He catches the slick of you orgasm on your tongue just as it starts running down your leg.

He goes at your pussy like a man starved. You cry out the moment his tongue enters you. You ride his tongue with vigor, gripping unto the counter for stability.

Jungkook pulls away from you for moment. His mouth is shiny from your juices, and his eyes are already so blown out that you want to fuck him even more.

He guides your hand to his hair, and encourages you to grab the tendrils.

“Use me, baby” he instructs.

His voice is so gravelly and raw, that you can do nothing but oblige him.

You grip the roots of his hair and push his head back between your legs. You both moan when he starts lapping at you again. You hold his head in place, guiding him where you want him; where you need him.

The second time you cum, your legs closed so tight around his head that Jungkook thought he had died and went straight to heaven.

You pull him away from your core by his hair, and bring him up to your face. You clean his face with your own tongue, and lean in to kiss him so you both taste like you. Your chests are still heaving when Jungkook carries you to your room.

He lays you gently on the bed, and takes his shirt off at the same time you toss your blouse over your head. He's about to undo the strings of his sweatpants when he stops cold in his tracks..

“ Shit, baby…I don't have any condoms. I didn't plan on this-”

“ It's okay,” You reassure him “ I'm clean. Are you?”

Jungkook looks a little scandalized. “Of course I'm clean, I haven't - I havent been with anyone except you since before we started dating.” His honesty shines so brightly in his eyes that you almost want to pull him into a hug.

You release a shaky, nervous breath you didn't know you had been holding.

“ Good. I want to feel you, all of you.”

The bed sinks as Jungkook climbs over you, one leg on each side of your body.

You've missed this view. Him on top of you, chain swining in your face, and big doe eyes filled with lust for you and only you.

He takes a hairtye from around his wrists, and pulls his hair into a low manbun. His cock is already painfully hard, red and leaking from the tip.

You spread your legs as Jungkook nestkes in-between them. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and presses a soft kiss to your calf.

He rubs himself between your folds, mesmerized by how quickly your wetness coats him.

He lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses.

“Are you sure you're ready baby? I don't want to hurt you.”

“ Is that it? Or are you scared that you don't hold a candle to ‘Woo-Woo’ my” you jest. Jungkook doesn't find it very funny.

He pushes himself into you, but as wet as you are, you're still so, so tight. Your pussy is so warm…hot even, that Jungkook almost cums the moment yes fully sheathed in you.

You're just as tight as he remembers, tighter even.

You both moan when he delivers his first thrust. You haven't had dick in so long,that you'd forgot what it felt like. How it felt like to have your walls stretched and your g spot caressed, how delicious and heavy the drag was inside you. How good Jungkook was at this. You feel so good that Jungkook practically forgets that he's supposed to be mad at you.

“You know you belong to me right?” Jungkook demands as he thrusts into you, slow and forceful. You don't answer and turn your face away from him He wraps his hand around your throat as speed up.

“Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!”

His thrusts become faster, punishing. He practically ploughs you into the mattress as whatever restraint he had before vanishes into thin air. You scream the more intense the pleasure gets.

“ I should fuck another baby into you, you know that? Hm? Should swell your tummy up with another one of my kids, so you have nine months to think about why the fuck you would do something as stupid as try to leave me.”

He finds your gspot as effortlessly as he usually does, and he hits it over and over and over again.

“Jungkook PLEASE” you cry. You reach your hand out to push against the hardness of his abdomen. He takes your hand and kisses it. You're so close. So fucking close, and Jungkook can tell.

“You want to cum, don't you baby?”

You nod frantically. Your pussy is practically raw from overstimulation, and you feel so much pressure building inside you that you don't know whether you want to run away from the pleasure or dive headfirst into it.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I need to please.”

“Then tell me. Fucking tell me you're mine”

“Fuck, I'm yours, Jungkook! Please!” you cry.

“ How many people have you fucked since you left? Answer me!” He commands you, adding a finger to your clit to the mix.

“Nobody, no one, Jungkook Please!”

“ I know baby, I just needed you to admit it.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to your temple. He gives you two more delicious thrusts that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Your lurches forward as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls convulse around him, squeezing him so tight that Jungkook feels a bit dizzy.

“Baby,” he whines “unwrap your legs so I can pull out.” He gasps when your legs only wrap tighter around him. “Baby, I have to-”

“N-no,” you protest “ I want it inside Jungkook please.”

He cums so forcefully that his orgasm leaves him winded and his arms almost give out. He spils his seed into you, and you feel the warmth of it coat your walls.

He pulls out of you as he begins to soften, and collapse beside you as he tries to catch his breath. You both turn to look at each other, and Jungkook offers you a soft smile.

He notices the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, and turns his head to switch your fan on.

That's when you see it. Your eyes bug out of their sockets.

“Jungkook, what the hell is that on your neck?”

“ What are you talking about?”

“Right there,” you turn his head to the right to get a better look. Your heart starts thumming uncontrollably in your chest. Because there it was, your name in bold black letters for everyone to see.

“Jungkook…When did you get that?”

“Hm…about five months ago?” he chuckles. He had the decency to look sheepish.

“Jungkook!” You say as you slap his chest “ We weren't even together!”

“ Correction, we are together, we just have separate living arrangements.”

You look at him incredulously.

“You're crazy, you know that?’

“About you? Yeah..Real crazy baby” he flirts “Hey, you never told me woo this ‘Woo-Woo’ guy is anyways .”

You roll you eyes at him as you climb of the bed.

“I can't tell you who he's not. He's not the one whose cum is dripping out of me right now. Are you gonna join me on the shower or what?”

Fin.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 1 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, curses, jungkook is lowkey a cocky asshole but we love him, mentions of ghosting (reader to Hoseok), mentions of frosh week, mentions of Nabi spraining her ankle, a frat party, beer pong, Sam Hwang, peach, explicit content: overhearing someone having sex, female masturbation, sex toy (vibrator), praising, nipple play, hickeys, dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, degradation, Hoseok likes being called sir (lmao), whip (sorta, with a belt), choking (with a belt), safe word, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, balls fondling, jerking off, spitting in the other's mouth, Hoseok does not believe in aftercare (rip)

☆word count: 11.8k

☆a/n: CHAPTER ONE!! LET'S GET THIS JOURNEY STARTED BABY!!! thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Thursday, January 17th 

If there is one thing you’ve figured about Jeon Jungkook, it’s that he is an insufferable prick, yet an endearing one. As your older brother’s best friend, Jungkook has taken a liking to teasing you, treating you like his own little sister. It was weird at first – the day you  met him, you were struck by his looks. Who wouldn’t be? Jungkook is tall, has a sleeve of tattoos, and he rocks an eyebrow and two lip piercings. 

It took you all but three days to realize that he is a too full of himself asshole. And had you known what you were signing up for when Taehyung suggested that you move in with him when his friend Jimin moved out to live with his girlfriend, maybe you wouldn’t have accepted.

You love Taehyung. He’s an incredible brother, has always taken care of you when you were younger and your mother was never home to do so. You love him enough that you didn’t mind moving in with him even though there was a third party you didn’t know.

Jungkook, that is.

It’s been months now. Months of living with Jungkook, of waking up to his insufferable smirk and even worse teasing, whenever Taehyung is not around. Because, of course, when your brother is here Jungkook is an angel, never once saying anything to you that could be taken the wrong way.

Thing is, Taehyung has always dreamed of studying abroad, in Paris. Has always wished to experience the French lifestyle, to wake up to eat croissants and gaze at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. So when he got the opportunity to do his winter semester over there, of course he jumped on the chance. 

You’ve been living alone in the same apartment as Jeon Jungkook for less than a month and you already wish May to be at your door and for Taehyung to come back.

It’s late. Sometime close to two am, and the bed creaking in the room next to yours, the one banging into the wall, has been keeping you up.

Or maybe the intermittent high-pitched clipped moans are what are keeping you up. Because, mind you, the walls of your apartment are paper-thin. So paper-thin sometimes you think you’re in Jungkook’s room while he’s ramming some girl he probably doesn’t even know the name of. Sometimes, you think you can almost picture him. Almost see the muscles of his back move under his skin as he jack-hammers into yet another girl, almost see his powerful thighs slap on hers each time he pushes in, almost see his fucked-out face when he comes with that loud grunt of his…

You miss Taehyung being around because Jungkook wasn’t as loud then. Still brought girls home every Thursday like clockwork, but made sure he wasn’t loud enough for the whole building to hear him. With Taehyung gone, Jungkook has stopped caring, and you have been suffering the consequences since then.

In truth, it hasn’t been that long. Less than three weeks, and you’ve heard Jungkook fuck like four times? You reckon it could be a lot worse… but he could also be respectful and not fuck people when you’re trying to sleep because you have a nine am class the next day.

The first time it happened, you were mortified. You listened to music, hoping you wouldn’t hear it anymore but, the thing is, his headboard bangs against the same wall your headboard is against. So you still felt it, and you suffered through the whole ordeal hoping you would disappear through the floor.

The second time it happened, you were annoyed. You considered knocking against the wall to tell him to shut the fuck up – or rather to tell the girl to shut the fuck up – but you resisted. Solely because you didn’t want to stir shit with Jungkook. You considered asking Taehyung to tell Jungkook to be more respectful, but it sounded childish and stupid so you eventually let it slide.

The third time it happened, you were… aroused. Maybe because it had been a long time since you had sex – the last time being in late November with Hoseok, a guy studying in the same major as you, though he’s Jungkook and Taehyung’s age. Yet, even though you felt aroused, you focused on all the ways you were going to murder Jungkook the next day.

Today… today the arousal is winning the game. It’s been making your heart run wild, and your grip on your sheets has your knuckles turning white, skin stretched taut over how hard you’re clenching your fists. 

And when you hear Jungkook say something that definitely sounds like “Good fucking girl”, you lose it. You’re too aroused, dripping from just hearing him, and you need to have the coil inside of you snap if you want to be able to sleep tonight.

With all the sounds emerging from his room, you doubt Jungkook is going to hear you. So you shamelessly rummage through the top drawer of your night table, searching for your vibrator, smiling in victory when your hand closes around it.

You’re wearing PJ shorts, and you quickly rid yourself of them as the girl lets out a short-clipped moan that makes you think you’re listening to porn, and not to your roommate fucking.

Though you reckon sex with Jungkook really does sound like porn.

You lie back in bed once you’re rid of your shorts, taking a hold of your vibrator. You turn it on, adjusting it to your favourite setting. You feel strange doing so, like you’re doing something you really shouldn’t be doing, but you can’t help it.

The second you press the vibrator on your clit, you forget all about how what you’re doing is wrong. All you can focus on is the pleasure that radiates through your body, and your eyes close tightly, images of Jungkook swirling in your brain.

When the girl moans again, and Jungkook tells her that she’s ‘taking it so well’, your free hand shoots to your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric of your t-shirt. It’s not enough, and you’re quick to move it under the shirt. You pinch hard, and you let out a breathy sound as your thighs instinctively close on your wrist.

Jungkook’s headboard starts banging against the wall even more, and your brain produces an image of Jungkook between your legs, fucking you until all you can think is his name. It has you pushing your vibrator inside of you, and you lightly moan again at the pleasurable intrusion. 

You let go of your nipple, moving that hand to your clit instead, and your fingers expertly start drawing circles on it. You listen to Jungkook’s grunts all along, to the girl’s moans, and maybe you’re a little too blissed out to realize they’re done, but when you reach your high you can’t help the broken moan you let out, a little too loud for the paper-thin walls of your apartment.

As you’re coming down from your high, you realize the apartment is eerily silent, and you swallow the lump of awkwardness that’s formed in your throat. You wipe your vibrator with some tissue, knowing you’ll have to actually clean it on the morrow, but you don’t want to kill the silence of the night just so you can put your vibrator back in its hiding spot right away. 

But you’re not stupid, and you know you need a trip to the bathroom anyway. You put your PJ shorts back on, grab your phone to use it as a flashlight so you don’t bump into a wall on the way to the bathroom, and you tiptoe all the way over there, hoping to be as soundless as possible.

You have to walk in front of Jungkook’s room to get to the bathroom, and then halfway across the living room. You notice his door is closed on your way, and you peacefully make it all the way to the bathroom. You quickly pee and clean yourself up, washing your hands before you open the door.

Which, you reckon might have been your demise. Because when you open the door of the bathroom, it’s to let out a high-pitched startled yelp at the sight of a shirtless Jungkook on the other side. The sound of the faucet must have hidden his footsteps.

You stare at each other for a few seconds, and in the dim light, you’re pretty sure Jungkook is smirking.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks after the silence has started to stretch into awkwardness.

You clench your jaw, gaze dropping to the ground. “You were disturbing my sleep.”

He chuckles, cocking his head to the side. “Was I now?”

Your eyes shoot back to his face at the low huskiness of his tone, and you wish with all of your heart that you had the courage to punch him in the face. But you don’t, so all you reply is, “You need to start fucking your hookups somewhere else.”

His smirk falls into a pout. “I won’t go over to the girls’ places. But I can make sure they’re more silent next time.”

Your brain can’t help but wonder if he means ‘they’ as in he was fucking two girls or just they as in generally referring to a single person.

You obstinately remain silent for a moment, holding his gaze with surprising defiance. “Please do,” you finally choose to say, and the smirk makes its way back to his features.

“I promise,” he says, voice low once again, and you hate how it has something tightening inside of you once more. 

You hate it so much that you escape, wishing him good night as you walk around him. You feel the warmth of his body on the way, and you’re thinking about ways to stab him in the back when he says, “Sleep well, peach.”

Saturday, January 19th

You’ve taken to referring to last Wednesday night, or early Thursday morning, as The Incident. At least that’s what you call it when you talk about it with your friends, Ria and Nabi. Ria, who’s always had some sort of a crush on Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted each time it’s mentioned, and Nabi thinks he’s proven that he’s the biggest asshole in college.

You relate to both, and mostly agree with Nabi. 

You’re supposed to go to some party later tonight. Ria convinced you to pre-drink at the girls’ dorm before you go, considering it’s closer to the party than your apartment, and the three of you are sitting in a circle on the floor, with music playing in the background. Needless to say, Nabi has been complaining ever since you got there, because she doesn’t usually do parties, and Ria is so excited she’s got you convinced that tonight will be the best night of your life.

Almost.

“Shots?” Ria asks as if you haven’t already taken two shots each.

She’s holding the bottle of tequila up, a red flush to her cheeks and mischief lighting her gaze. You don’t find it in you to say no, because you know that without the tequila Nabi is never going to make it to the party.

“Let’s do this,” you say, offering her a smirk as Nabi hides her face in her hands.

“You girls are going to kill me,” she complains. 

“Come on,” Ria says, playfully pushing her on the shoulder. “Maybe that cute guy you like is going to be there!”

Nabi has had a crush on someone from your major, Kim Namjoon, ever since you met her at the beginning of Frosh week last semester. He’s a tall guy, with dimples whenever he smiles, and you can see why she’d have a crush on him. Thing is, Namjoon has been dating someone ever since then, and Nabi has just been suffering in silence.

You still remember the moment you saw the crush bubble to life. It was day three of Frosh Week, and Namjoon was in charge of your team, along with Hoseok. You, Nabi, and three other first years were winning the relay race, figuring out the puzzles so quickly you had a good advance on the other teams. In a leap of happiness, Nabi jumped over a small stone wall on campus. One of her feet got tangled, and she ended up spraining her ankle.

Namjoon had been right by her side, asking her if she was okay. And Nabi has been in love with him ever since that day, though she’d never dare say it aloud.

“I don’t like anyone,” she grumbles, but the way her cheeks flush red is telling.

“Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon,” you singsong, offering her a shit eating grin. 

She retaliates by saying, “When’s the last time you’ve fucked Hobi? Didn’t you say he was the best lay of your life?”

Your mouth falls open in surprise, and Ria lets out a loud laugh.

“We stopped fucking in November, you know that!” you burst, feeling yourself turning crimson. “And it’s not like I have a crush on him, I stopped because it felt like he had a crush on me.”

Nabi has a winning smile on her lips. “And what’s so bad about that?”

“I mean…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders. “The sex was good, but I didn’t feel like dating him. Simple as that.”

“Why not?” Ria asks, tequila forgotten. “You never told us.” She adds a pout to her sentence, trying to get you to explain.

There’s no explanation. You just didn’t feel like it. You tell them as much, but Nabi doesn’t buy it. Ria, on the other hand, lets out a sound that has both you and Nabi startling.

“I know why!” she explains.

You cock an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You live with fucking Jeon Jungkook, of course you don’t want to date Hobi. Especially after The Incident.”

You laugh, as it’s just as ridiculous as you expected it to be. “Not at all. Jungkook is Tae’s best friend.”

Both your friends look at you, as if what you said was the stupidest shit they ever heard.

“What?”

“What does it change?” Nabi asks with a small voice. 

“Well,” you let out, because you don’t really know. It’s just weird to you, and you don’t know how to explain it. “For one, I’m pretty sure Tae would kill him if he ever laid a finger on me.”

“Tae is in Paris,” Ria innocently says.

“Irrelevant,” you say, chuckling. “He’s going to be back in just a few months.”

“A lot can happen in a few months,” she adds, wiggling her brows suggestively.

You roll your eyes before reaching out between the two of you. “Give me the tequila.”

“I’ll fuck him if you don’t,” she teases, and she cradles the tequila to her chest. “As a matter of fact, maybe I’ll try to fuck him tonight.”

“Have fun!” is all you answer before making grabby hands at her. “Now, give me the alcohol, let’s get plastered before we get there so we don’t have to drink the crappy frat booze.”

*****

The frat house hosting the party is wild. Has always been – you’ve always found they go too far with most of their parties. But they also host the most memorable parties, and you know tonight will be a blast the moment you set in to see the strung LED light, shining different patterns of colours around the main room. A table in the corner is stacked high with every bottle of hard alcohol imaginable, and there are three coolers you assume are holding beer or something of the sorts. 

One of the guys – Dave? – shows you three where you can leave your coats, on a bed in the upstairs bedroom, and then he walks you to the alcohol table, offering to pour you some shots.

Nabi giggles, because by the time you left their dorm, she got quite drunk, claiming she needed it if she were to run into Namjoon after what you and Ria had said. She accepts the shot she’s handed, though half of it has spilled on her hand by the time the guy gives you yours. He puts salt on your hands, carefully, as Ria makes fun of Nabi, and you look around, scanning the crowd. You recognize a few people from your class, along with the usual party crowd of your college. You smile at two guys you’ve spoken to before at least once, before resuming your attention on Dave (?) as he hands you a slice of lemon.

When the four of you are ready, you lick the salt, knock back the shot, and then bite in the lemon to chase the taste of tequila away. It’s cheap tequila, and even with lemon the taste lingers while you prepare vodka cranberries for you and your friends. And though Ria loves dancing, you and Nabi win as you choose to head to the kitchen, where you know the music isn’t usually as loud.

The first thing you notice when you enter the kitchen is the beer pong table in the middle. Jeon Jungkook is currently playing, along with Jimin, another of your brother’s friends. As he sees you, Jimin raises his glass, offering you a wide grin, and then he punches Jungkook in his side before motioning to you.

Jungkook notices you then, and he offers you a smirk as he eyes you up and down. You feel shy for half a beat, though you know you look good. You’re wearing a green corset along with a pair of black leather pants, and you know the two pieces of clothing hug your body perfectly. Plus, Ria did your makeup, and Ria never fails when it comes to makeup. So you wait as Jungkook looks at you, hoping the foundation Ria put on your face is thick enough for him not to see you blush as The Incident inevitably comes back to your mind.

You look away, and then you see Hoseok hovering by glass sliding doors, along with Namjoon and their other friend Yoongi. Hoseok is busy with a conversation, and when he bursts out laughing you can hear it clear as day.

Why didn’t you want to date him? You don’t know. You actually really don’t know, because he ticks off all the boxes. But something was missing, you presume, and sometimes you hate yourself for it.

He must have sensed your attention, and he turns his head towards you. You don’t miss the way his smile falls a little, and he nods once in recognition. When you smile, his mouth closes to offer you one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles, and your gaze drops away to the cup in your hand.

Of course, Ria has a nefarious plan in mind, because she hooks her arm with yours and Nabi’s, pulling you towards the trio of guys. You’re fully aware that it’s mostly for Nabi, and that it’s stupid because last you’ve heard, Namjoon is still dating his girlfriend, but you let your friend pull you towards the men, gaze still stubbornly hiding in your cup.

You watch the liquid slosh around as you stop in front of them, and Namjoon greets you. Hoseok falls eerily silent, and Yoongi asks you all how you’ve been doing.

You only join in the conversation when you’ve taken a long sip from your cup to ease your nerves. Not that it really helped, but you reckon just standing there in silence would probably make things more awkward than anything else.

“Nabi is pretty drunk,” Ria is saying when you finally look up from the cup. 

“Am not!” Nabi insists, voice slurred. “Or maybe just a little.”

Namjoon laughs, while Yoongi chuckles. “As long as you don’t fall and sprain your ankle again, I think you’re alright.”

“Won’t fall again,” Nabi promises. “Not with these two with me.” She says that motioning to you and Ria, and it somehow brings Namjoon’s attention to you.

“I saw your essay on the synthesis and control of energy metabolism,” he tells you, a dimpled smile on display. “It was pretty good.”

You can’t help but slide your eyes to Nabi, who wrote a far better essay on human health and bacteriophage in your opinion, and you don’t miss the way her gaze drops to the ground.

“Thanks,” you reply to Namjoon nonetheless.

He’s started TA-ing to help out Seokjin, one of the biochemistry grad students. All of you are biology students, except Ria and Yoongi. Ria is in administration, and Yoongi studies music, his concentration being piano and producing.

There’s an awkward silence, and you glance towards Hoseok, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. He’s good-looking, even though he’s simply dressed in a T-shirt with some graphics on the front and a pair of discoloured jeans. Knowing him, he probably has a crazy jacket upstairs, because you know he’s good when it comes to fashion.

It’s what attracted you to him in the first place.

“How are you?” you ask him, and you notice Yoongi’s pointed gaze on you. It’s disapproving, you think, but the question left your mouth without you even wanting it to.

“I’ve been great,” Hoseok replies, though it’s a little colder than what you know him to be.

You nod, gaze dropping to the ground as Ria strikes a conversation with the three others, clearly trying to give you and Hoseok some space. It has the two of you just standing in aimless silence, until the sound of whooping behind you attracts your gaze to the beer pong table, where Jimin and Jungkook are celebrating a win. “I’m…” you trail off as you turn back to look at him. “I’m glad. How are your classes?”

He sighs. “They’re harder than first-year classes.”

You don’t miss the ghost of a teasing glint in his eyes, and you immediately latch onto it. “Oh, please, you struggled in molecular biology. I got A+ in the class.”

He chuckles, and you physically relax. Because you haven’t really talked since you ended things in November, finals coming in the way of partying and other events where you would run into him. So you didn’t know before today where you stood with him, and you’re relieved that he doesn’t seem like he’s holding a grudge.

“You weren’t in Lester’s class,” he points out. “Even Namjoon almost failed Lester’s class.”

You gasp in fake outrage. “No way! And now he’s the biochem TA.”

“I know,” Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

The renewed complicity between the two of you is easy, you realize, and when he suggests playing a game of beer pong, you immediately agree. Or maybe you only agree because you don’t know where Nabi, Ria, Yoongi and Namjoon went, only that they aren’t next to you anymore.

 Jungkook and Jimin are still undefeated at the table, and when Jungkook catches sight of you moving closer, he winks before shooting.

You’re not surprised when the ball goes right in a cup, leaving only one on the table. Jimin laughs as their opponents claim Jungkook cheated, and Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.

“You should know better than to call me a cheater, bro,” Jungkook says, and he runs a hand in his hair.

An infuriating small strand falls in his big doe eyes, but he seemingly doesn’t care. He glances at you once again, eyes trailing between you and Hoseok.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks when his gaze settles back on you.

You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to your cleavage before moving back to your face.

“I’m here to beat your ass,” you reply, and you offer him a shit-eating grin.

He laughs, and he sets his attention on Hoseok. “I hope you’re good, bro, because she’s just declared war.” And then he looks at you, smirking that insufferable smirk once more. His doe eyes narrow threateningly, and you find yourself wishing you had never heard him fuck before.

Because all your brain can picture right now is how you came to the sound of his grunts a couple of days ago.

“What?” you can’t help but say, though he looks away from you as the two other guys shoot, completely missing the three cups left in front of Jimin and Jungkook. 

You notice Jimin looking at you with an eyebrow cocked, and the smile on his lips means nothing good. You furrow your brows, because you know how much of a gossip he is, but thankfully enough for you, he has to throw.

You watch as he does so, landing it right in the last cup. Jungkook of course throws right in the cup too, claiming the victory for them as the two other guys grumble and leave the table, leaving the place free for you and Hoseok.

You meet Hoseok’s gaze, offering him a small smirk. “I hope you’re ready to get fucked.”

You only realize how crude your words sounded, especially considering your history with him, when he starts laughing, that contagious laugh you’ve always found cute.

“I mean, I’m a pretty good shot,” he says once you’ve calmed down. “Are you?”

You wince. “Once in a while I’m good,” you answer truthfully. “Most of the time I suck.”

“Well hopefully you’ll be good tonight,” he teases, gently nudging you with his elbow.

You offer him a determined nod, before turning to face Jungkook and Jimin. You quickly put the solo cups back in position, as Jungkook watches you with a half-smile on his lips. You don’t know what to make of it, so you ignore him.

A small, tiny, minuscule voice at the back of your head tells you he probably knows about The Incident, but you ignore it entirely like you’ve been doing for the past few days.

Turns out Hoseok really is a good shot. He lands all of his shots, but of course, it has to be the day you suck. You don’t land any, up until the redemption that brings you back into the game when Jungkook and Jimin are about to win.

It makes you scream in happiness, and you throw your arms around Hoseok’s neck, right as his hands lay flat on your waist. He pulls you close, laughing in your ear until you let go, and you have the decency to feel bad.

You’re pretty sure you broke his heart in November, and you’re pretty sure you’ll only end up breaking it again. But there’s just something in the way Jungkook is staring from the other side of the table, smile gone, that makes you want to cling to Hoseok. So you do, and when he stands behind you to help you with your next shot, you let him put one hand on your hip.

Your gaze meets Jungkook’s, and you watch as his eyes dip to the fingers on your hip. He cocks his head to the side, wets his lips, and then an infuriating smirk lights up his features dangerously until you feel like you need to look away or else you’ll combust. So you glance at Jimin, who is just smiling prettily because when is he not, and then you focus on the lone solo cup you have to aim for.

“What you want to do,” Hoseok says, leaning so he can speak in your ear. You’re infinitely aware of how his pelvis brushes your ass, and your breath catches in your throat. He continues, “is to throw in a parabola. That way you won’t hit the rim of the cup”. He grabs your wrist, lifting your hand. “From this height, it should work.”

You nod, because you don’t think you can answer, especially not as you can hear Jungkook snickering from where he’s standing. Instead, you really focus on the cup, and when you’re about to throw, Jungkook speaks up.

“Put it in, baby.”

Your brain short-circuits, and it’s no wonder you miss by a good, few inches. Jimin is a giggly mess next to Jungkook, Hoseok can’t resist his laugh, and all you can do is glare at Jungkook’s satisfied smile.

“What the fuck?” you let out.

He winks at you. “Gotta learn to not get distracted, peach.”

You hate the nickname. He knows that you do, and it’s the reason why he’s been using it for months now. Ever since one late night where you played Mario Kart together with Taehyung and Jimin, and you kept choosing Princess Peach as your character. When you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, Jungkook followed you and teased you about it, and now the nickname has stuck.

Though evidently never in front of Taehyung.

You wish you had a snarky retort in you, but all you can do is think about The Incident, and pray he can’t tell that your cheeks are burning up because of him and not because of the alcohol.

You end up losing the beer pong game, and you cringe internally as you watch Hoseok dapping Jungkook and Jimin up. You begrudgingly congratulate them, as Jungkook teases you for the loss.

“Would have thought your brother taught you better than this,” he says, nudging you with his elbow.

You roll your eyes, glancing at Hoseok, but he’s striking a conversation with Jimin. 

“Tae and I didn’t spend all that much time together, Jungkook,” you remind him. “You know I just moved in with you guys because you needed someone after Jimin left.”

Jungkook shrugs. “You seem pretty close to him.” 

He falls silent, pulling at his piercing as you glance at his features. You’ve left your liquid courage somewhere on the table, and you really wish you had it with you right now. Only so you could avoid the sudden wistful look in Jungkook’s haze, though it disappears so quickly you think you might have imagined it.

“He’s really protective of you,” he comments as you too remain silent, not knowing what to say.

You chuckle, because if there is a thing that is true, it’s that your older brother is an overbearing asshole. “That he is,” you agree, and you both laugh.

“Hey, do you want a drink?” Hoseok suddenly asks, and you realize that Jimin has disappeared. 

You’re pretty sure Jungkook is eyeing him up and down when you reply, “Please, I need a new drink.”

Hoseok beams, and you make to move towards him when Jungkook grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes widen, The Incident flashing in your mind, but his tattooed fingers let go of you as you throw him an inquisitive look.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” he admits. “I came with my car, thought I’d offer to drive you home.”

At that, your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline in surprise. “What?”

He shrugs, corner smile back on his pink lips. “As long as you don’t get sick, that is.”

You ponder for a time, because you were supposed to sleep over at Nabi and Ria’s dorm tonight. You reckon heading home would probably be better, especially now that Hoseok has caught your attention again.

Maybe you can give Jungkook a piece of his medicine.

“Ayt,” you tell him, moving closer as a secretive smile moves on your lips, brought up by the evil plan that is just starting to form in your brain. “I’ll find you later?”

Jungkook looks down at you, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. A smirk moves on his lips and he glances at Hoseok before settling his doe eyes back on you.

He looks nothing like a doe when he says, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

And then he’s the one that walks away, and you can’t breathe for a few seconds as Hoseok waits patiently, either unaware of the situation or not caring. Though you know he knows Jungkook is your roommate – he probably just thinks Jungkook is being nice.

You inhale deeply, before turning to look at Hoseok as you let out your breath. “So, drinks?”

He smiles, genuinely, nodding his head as he offers you his hand to take. To your surprise, he pulls you close to him, and the way his gaze looks down on you makes you all too aware that you used to fuck him, and he used to fuck you good.

“What are you drinking tonight?” he asks, head dipping so he can ask the question in your ear.

“What do you want?”

His smile turns a little dangerous, and he looks over your head to the doorway to the living room. “Shall we?”

You laugh, nodding your head enthusiastically, and you let him pull you behind him. He guides you to the drink table in the living room, where he makes you a rum and coke as you scan your surroundings. You spy Ria and Nabi dancing, and you only understand why when you notice that Namjoon is nearby too, with Yoongi who’s just standing to the side, scrolling on his phone as if bored.

You know Hoseok likes to dance. That’s how you first kissed all those months ago, so you don’t hesitate to ask if he wants to join your friends after you’ve both drank a couple of sips from your respective solo cups. He obviously agrees, and you take his hand to guide him to your friends. You’re painfully aware of how Yoongi raises his head when you get closer, eyes dropping to your entwined hands. He furrows his brows disapprovingly, and you wonder if he’ll speak up.

If he’ll speak up and ruin your plan for you. 

He doesn’t, instead meeting your gaze as if daring you to do something. It makes you feel bad for a split second until Hoseok lets go of your hand to rest a hand on your hip as he nestles his lean body against your back.

“You know,” he says in your ear, and you look away from Yoongi, refusing to acknowledge his challenge. “I always wondered why you ghosted me.”

You gulp, and you follow his lead as he makes you sway your hips against him. Ria whistles and your eyes widen a little as if to say ‘please not right now’.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it’s true. “I didn’t really mean to ghost you, just got busy and…”

He laughs, and you’re surprised to hear it ring true. “Y/n,” he says. He leans even closer, and his lips brush your ear. It makes goosebumps rise all over your body, right as he continues, “You can say you got scared. I gave you plenty of reasons to be scared.”

Because you had agreed on no feelings, and he still had developed some, hadn’t he?

“I’m still sorry, ghosting you was shitty of me.”

He chuckles, and you’re starting to recognize the man that he is in the bedroom. His voice is low, husky, when he says, “Should I punish you for it?”

The Incident and Jeon Jungkook are thousands of miles from your thoughts when his words settle in, making heat pool at your core.

“You’d still want to do this?” you ask, breathlessly.

He nibbles at your earlobe, and you instinctively tilt your head to the side to give him better access. He kisses under your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, and this time Ria fully hollers in front of you.

You glare at her, only to see that she and Nabi are having the time of their life watching you.

“I haven’t been able to forget how good your pussy feels wrapped around my dick,” Hoseok replies after he’s sucked a hickey on your neck. “Trust me, if I can fuck you again, I’ll do it.”

You don’t hesitate when you turn around, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

And you know you would. Especially considering how tense he was when you first talked to him tonight. 

“Sweet of you,” he comments, and a smirk grows on his lips. He pulls away from you, taking a sip of rum and coke. “I wasn’t catching feelings for you, if that’s what you were worried about.” He pauses as his face falls fully serious. “You just don’t like when people treat you right.”

You’re insulted. You really are, yet… he isn’t entirely wrong. The minute a guy gets too close, you dip – you blame that on the fact your father abandoned you and Taehyung when you were still kids.

“Is that why Yoongi is glaring at me?” you ask, a little colder than intended. 

The message still passes, and Hoseok shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t care what Yoongi thinks. He always thinks he knows me better than I do but, trust, he doesn’t.”

You’re surprised at just how bitter Hoseok’s sentence sounds. You always thought Yoongi and he were best friends. It’s strange to think that maybe they aren’t, or at least maybe they aren’t close enough to be.

“Anyway,” Hoseok adds when you remain silent for a little too long. “If you’re willing to fuck again, I’d be down. I haven’t found another pussy like yours since the last time we fucked.”

Which coincidentally is the last time you had sex with anyone. You’re not surprised Hoseok fucked some other people after you – with his easy charm, you know he can have anyone wrapped around his finger pretty easily. 

And if he wants to participate in your evil plan so willingly, who are you to tell him no?

“The night’s barely started,” you point out. “But maybe you can come back to my place later?”

You’ve never invited him over before, because if there’s a thing that scares you more than anything in this world, it’s Taehyung hearing you having sex with some guy. But now that your brother is in Paris, you figure it doesn’t matter.

Plus, if you want Jungkook to get a taste of his own medicine, you have to bring Hoseok home.

“Deal,” Hoseok tells you, and he seals the deed with a searing and unexpected kiss.

You still kiss him back, hungrily, your body remembering just how good Hoseok can make you feel. You just have to make it through a party – with Jungkook driving you home, you know it’s likely you won’t leave until the party is starting to dwindle down.

When you pull away, Hoseok licks his lips once, as if wanting to remember the taste of you, before saying, “I’ll find you at the end of the party”.

You nod, and begrudgingly let him leave when he walks over to where Yoongi is standing, now joined by a baffled Namjoon, who glances between the two of you a couple of times. You ignore him, instead focusing on Ria and Nabi as they drunkenly pull you away, laughing wildly.

“What the fuck was that?” Ria asks in between two sets of laughter as you emerge in the kitchen. “I thought you said you didn’t want him anymore.”

You don’t want to jinx your plan, so all you can think to do is shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. “It just happened.”

In a weird moment of soberness, Nabi says, “Please don’t lead him on. He’s a decent guy”.

You tell your friends what he told you, and they both seem taken aback, yet they don’t question it. After all, the amount of alcohol in your blood is enough to make it so it’s a little hard to think profoundly, and inhibitions have flown out the window before you even got to the party.

After the conversation is over, your two friends insist on playing beer pong, claiming that they need you to encourage them. You recognize Dave at the table – you think that’s his name – and you all cozy up next to him as you ask to be next. You linger behind, mostly because you’ve noticed someone you’ve been avoiding ever since you got to college last semester, and you hope he doesn’t notice you.

Maybe he’s one of the reasons why you’ve been struggling with people treating you right, like Hoseok mentioned. Because Sam was your first love, and he played you immensely.

If he notices you, he doesn’t look like he does, instead keeping his arm tightly wrapped around the girl next to him. You don’t know her, and you wouldn’t even care if you did – you stopped caring about Sam a long time ago. But you’re still a little put off at the sight of him, and when you catch sight of Jungkook and Jimin by the backyard’s sliding door, breathing in some fresh air, you decide to join them.

Which, you reckon, is a very stupid idea. Because they are Taehyung’s friends, not yours, but they feel safer for you than being in the vicinity of Sam Hwang right now.

“Weren’t you sucking face with what’s-his-name just a second ago?” Jimin asks straight away as you stop next to them.

You snort in your cup, taking a long sip from your drink. “Maybe,” you say once you’ve swallowed.

“Tae would have killed him,” Jimin jokes, looking at Jungkook.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze is focused on a spot on your neck, and you rub it mindlessly. 

“Good thing he’s in Paris,” you point out. “And I can trust you two to not tell him?” 

You say it like a question, though you know it’s useless. Jimin is the biggest gossip you know, and you expect Taehyung to be scolding you by the time you wake up tomorrow morning.

Though that attracts Jungkook’s attention to your face, and he meets your gaze with that same infuriating smirk he was sporting earlier. 

“Lips sealed,” he says, uselessly because both of you know that Jimin is the real danger.

Before anything else can be said, Jimin points towards the beer pong table. “Didn’t feel like playing with your friends?”

You shrug, taking another sip of rum and coke. “They don’t need me.”

“Pretty sure you’d be a liability anyway,” Jungkook teases.

Jimin and he laughs at your expanse, and you’re stuck glaring at Jungkook, right as The Incident takes the forefront of your thoughts again.

You wish it would stop haunting you. Wish it would leave you alone, because you feel like it was the cataclysm to a series of bad decisions. The first event of a butterfly effect that is threatening to push you over the edge of the cliff.

“I did get the redemption shot,” you point out, and Jungkook playfully nudges you again.

“Doesn’t count, your little boyfriend got all the other shots for you.”

Your gaze widens. “He’s not my boyfriend!” you quickly defend.

Admittedly a tad too quickly.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, wetting his lips before playing with his piercing. “Of course not.”

You narrow your eyes at him, though you remain silent because you feel like saying something else would be far too incriminating. 

“Leave her alone,” Jimin jokes. “She did her best.” And then his gaze settles on you, and you balk at the mischief burning in his eyes. “Not her fault if her best sucks.”

“Bruh,” you let out, and you all burst out laughing.

After that, the conversation moves on easily, as you ask Jimin about his girlfriend. He starts gushing about the girl – he always does whenever Sera is mentioned. He tells you about her latest publication, and Jungkook looks bored out of his mind by the time something catches his attention, and he walks away from you and Jimin.

You watch him leave, somehow disappointed, but you entertain the conversation with Jimin for longer still. And Jimin is fun to be around, easy to talk to, and you don’t realize but an hour has passed before he glances down at his phone.

“Shit, I gotta go,” he admits. “I told Sera I wouldn’t be home too late.”

Your solo cup has been empty for half of the hour, so you raise it and say, “Go home, I’m going to get a refill.”

He hugs you goodbye, though you both walk together towards the living room. You part ways as you head to the drink table, once again scanning the room in search of your friends. They are nowhere to be seen, so you set on exploring the house after you’ve made another rum and coke for yourself. 

You find the stairs, and you head upstairs thinking they might have needed to settle in a calmer environment. Knowing Nabi, it is to be expected, yet you don’t find them anywhere upstairs. There’s a closed door leading to what you think is a bathroom, but you refuse to look in there.

You almost let out a startled yelp as it opens, and Jungkook steps out, pretty lips swollen red as he leads a girl behind him. At the sight of you, he lets go of her hand, and she looks between the two of you curiously. As both of you remain entirely silent, she furrows her brow but then dips, running a hand through her visibly tangled-up hair.

You can easily imagine what she and Jungkook were doing just a moment ago.

“Really?” you tell him.

His tongue pokes his cheek, and he laughs. “You asked me not to fuck at home anymore.”

You purse your lips, actually surprised that he took your word into account.

“Didn’t expect you would respect it.”

He doesn’t fake the offence that paints his features. “I’m not an asshole, peach.”

The nickname is said condescendingly, and you reckon you should feel a little bad. Because you’re still set on bringing Hoseok home tonight, no matter if Jungkook decided not to fuck anyone at home again.

“Sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say.

Silence moves between you, and Jungkook leans against the doorframe, arms folding on his chest. He watches you carefully, as if he’s never really seen you before and, frankly, you wish he’d looked at you like this before.

It’s a treacherous thought, and you push it away as best as you can. 

“Jimin went home,” you tell him, feeling the need to fill the silence with something, anything.

Before he can reply, a group of people move upstairs, talking loudly. Jungkook pushes up from the doorframe, walking towards you.

“Do you want to go home too?” he asks when he’s right next to you.

He’s tall. You have to tilt your head back to be able to hold his gaze, and damn you, you’re hypnotized. You don’t want to look away, don’t think that you can.

“You already want to go home?” you answer, wetting your lips, and his eyes drop to your mouth.

He scoffs, as if it’s an inconvenience, before shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not drinking, I don’t see why I’d stay longer.”

Right.

“Why aren’t you drinking anyway?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

He smiles, with no hint of that infuriating smirk for once. “Got morning shift at the library tomorrow.”

The fact he works in a library still makes no sense to you. Though he’s claimed it’s because that way, it’s easy to approach all the pretty, intelligent women who don’t go to parties. Easy targets for a fuckboy like him.

“Ah,” you let out. “Well…” you glance at the group of people as they get out of the room where the coats are. When you resume your attention on Jungkook, you’re struck thinking he’s moved even closer. “My friend is supposed to sleep over, can I go find him?”

You say it innocently, and you don’t miss the way Jungkook frowns slightly. “Who?”

You force Hoseok’s name out, mostly because the way Jungkook is looking at you right now is making you want to disappear through the floor.

“Ah, the guy you played beer pong with,” Jungkook comments. “Thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

You furrow your brows. “He isn’t.”

A smirk grows on his lips. “Then why are you bringing him home, peach?”

Your own smirk is easy to come to your lips as you reply, “I’ll let you imagine.”

“Your brother wouldn’t approve.”

As he licks at his piercing, you can’t help but look down at his lips. “Good thing you’re not my brother then.”

He doesn’t reply, only looks over your head as you hear the unmistakable laugh of Jeong Hoseok. It makes you take a step back, and you turn to see Hoseok appearing at the top of the stairs. To your surprise, he’s accompanied by Ria, Nabi and Namjoon, but Yoongi is nowhere in sight.

Namjoon is helping Nabi walk, as she’s clearly gotten even drunker since you abandoned them downstairs. You wince at her sight, knowing she’s going to be a nightmare tomorrow. 

Ria catches sight of you and Jungkook, and her gaze widens.

“Here you are!” she shrieks. “We were looking for you everywhere.”

You don’t miss the way Hoseok looks you up and down, and you thank your stars for making this so easy. “I was thinking of heading home,” you tell the group, and you glance over your shoulder to confirm it with Jungkook.

He’s got an unreadable expression on his features, one that makes you think you’re going to enjoy your payback way too much.

When you look back to the group, it’s to see Hoseok cocking an eyebrow as if to say ‘Am I still coming?’ You nod, and you take a few steps towards him, interlocking your fingers with his. Ria watches as if it’s a scene from her favourite movie, and you all enter the room with the coats. 

You find yours in the mess on the floor, fast enough to catch sight of Jungkook as he’s waiting outside the door. You recognize his coat in the mess, so you grab it before bringing it to him.

“Here,” you tell him.

He chuckles. “Thanks, peach.”

Hoseok is next to follow, and the two guys eye each other before you hear Namjoon say, “Are you sure you’re fine with getting her home?”

You look into the room – Nabi is now lying on the bed, laughing to herself.

“Hopefully, yeah,” Ria answers. “I’ve already called an Uber.”

Namjoon is watching Nabi with a strange expression on his features when he says, “You guys are still at the dorms?”

“Yeah, we are,” Nabi slurs. “Where else would we be?”

Namjoon chuckles, and he glances your way. You immediately look away, right as he says, “I’ll come with you guys, then.”

Your thoughts head to his girlfriend for a few seconds, feeling bad for the girl, though clearly, Namjoon is just trying to be a gentleman. When you see Jungkook and Hoseok waiting patiently for you, you forget all about Nabi, Ria, Namjoon and his hypothetic girlfriend, especially as you see the not-so-genuine smile on Hoseok’s lips, and the dark look in Jungkook’s gaze.

Maybe your plan was a little too evil after all.

*****

The night is cold outside ─ arctic ─ and you wish you were drunker. That way, you’d barely feel it, but no, you’re forced to a shivering mess as you walk behind Jungkook towards his car, which he was forced to park a few streets over because of a recent snowstorm. All that can be heard is the sounds of your shoes crunching in the snow and the distant buzz of the highway. Up above, the stars twinkle in the night, and smoke moves from your mouth to create a cloud over your head.

You hate winter. Always have, and always will. Especially when it’s so cold you feel like your face will fall off, and you reckon tonight is one of the coldest nights in a while. 

Your eyes trail to Hoseok, and you smile in relief – at least your bed won’t be cold tonight.

You finally reach Jungkook’s car, and he unlocks the doors, the sound reverberating through the cold air. You sit in the back seat with Hoseok, pushing Jungkook’s gym bag to the side, and Jungkook is quick to turn on the engine, blasting the heater on. He meets your gaze in the rearview mirror as he waits for the engine to be warm enough to actually start driving. 

For a moment, you forget Hoseok is next to you. All you can focus on is Jungkook’s gaze. Where it’s usually wide, big and innocent, his eyes are narrowed now, as if he’s eyeing you. Judging you, even. Judging your choices, and you think he’s full of shit for it – he’s the first one to fuck around whenever he has the opportunity, after all.

A moment later, he deems the car finally ready, and he looks away, focusing on the street instead. He turns up the music on the stereo, and you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. You do so until you feel Hoseok’s hand landing on your thigh, which attracts your attention to him.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Hoseok says, not too loud, but clearly Jungkook hears because his fingers stop tapping on the wheel.

You smile, glancing down at Hoseok’s lips. They look chapped from the cold, yet when he smiles that bright smile of his back, you can’t help but think they are still inviting.

“Please don’t judge the state of the apartment,” you whisper, leaning closer to him. “This idiot doesn’t know how to –“

Jungkook slams the brakes, and you whip your head towards him as the aftershock sends you back into your seat. His eyes are gleaming with barely concealed mischief, and the infuriating smirk graces his lips.

“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t seem apologetic at all.

You roll your eyes, but that kills the conversation until you arrive at your apartment, which thankfully isn’t too far away from the party. Jungkook parks out front, and you all file out of the car, walking up the stairs to your door. You unlock it while the two men stand next to you, and you’re not sure what’s colder – them, or the actual winter night.

You’re not sure you want to know the answer either.

Warm air wraps you in its embrace as you open the door and step in, and you quickly shut it after the two men to make sure the cold doesn’t come in too much. By the time you’ve turned back around, Jungkook’s already halfway to his bedroom.

“Good night,” he says over his shoulder. 

For some reason, you expected him to be more of an ass about the situation, but you’re reduced to thinking he actually doesn’t care all that much. You watch him until he disappears in his room before your eyes slide to Hoseok.

He’s been observing you all this time, and the moment your eyes meet, he smiles.

“We can hang our coats in the closet,” you tell him as you unzip yours, and he follows your motion.

You grab a hanger for him, handing it to him before taking off your coat and hanging it. Once that is done, you head towards your room, pit-stopping in the kitchen to grab glasses of water. You reckon you didn’t expect him to be so silent, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable.

Even when you’re in your room, and you’ve plugged in your fairy lights, Hoseok still doesn’t say a thing. 

“You good?” you ask him, doing your best to calm your sudden nerves.

Was it a good idea to bring him here after all?

He grins, nodding once. “The apartment isn’t as messy as you let it sound like.”

Not expecting that at all, you let out a small laugh. But he isn’t wrong – out of the three of you, Taehyung is by far the messiest. And now that he is gone, Jungkook and you have managed to keep the apartment tidy and clean, though sometimes Jungkook does leave some dirty dishes around.

“Oh,” you let out, and you chuckle. “Yeah, we cleaned this week.”

Last Wednesday, actually. Right before Jungkook had his pussy appointment, it turns out.

Hoseok looks around, and you gaze at his honey skin for a time. It looks warm in the lights, and his smile is still just as blinding when he offers it to you.

“Like your room.”

You scan it as if you haven’t lived here for months now. You’ve brought most of the stuff you had at home – except your collection of plushies. Polaroid pictures of you growing up are hung on threads over your desk, which is a little messy from the project you were working on yesterday. Your laptop lays there unattended, screen black, and you walk over to shut it absentmindedly. 

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” you tell him, and you don’t have time to turn around for him to put his hand on your hip like he was doing earlier at the party. 

You take a long swig of water, before putting the glass down on your desk. Hoseok imitates you, and then his other hand finds a home on your waist.

“Feels like you,” he whispers, head dipping down so he can say the words in your ear.

You shiver, eyes fluttering shut, as he moves your hair out of the way before kissing on the hickey he sucked on your skin at the party.

“Yeah?” you breathe out.

He nods, and you feel him move against your neck. He pulls you closer, and your breath itches in your throat when you feel his dick against your ass.

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you again for so long.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and one of his hands moves to your neck, holding you firmly into place. “But you had to run away, thinking you knew me. Baby,” he pauses, as his fingers dig in your arteries, making your head swim with the lack of oxygen, “you don’t know me at all. And I’m going to fucking punish you for it tonight. Understood?”

He releases his hold on your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath. “Yes.”

“Mmh?”

You know exactly what he wants, and it makes your insides boil again. “Yes, sir.”

He smirks against you, before biting at the skin of your neck. “You’ll be a good little slut for me?”

You nod, entirely unable to form a sentence. You’ve completely forgotten that the goal of tonight is to make Jungkook pay for how he’s been having loud sex. All you can think about right now is the man behind you.

“Then turn around, baby. Strip out of your clothes.”

You obey, mostly because Hoseok brings out a submissive part of you that just craves to do what he wants. Yes, you’ve always been more on the submissive side. But with other people, you can’t help the brat in you.

You fear being a brat with Hoseok would be a very dangerous game to play.

You don’t break the eye contact as you take off your clothes, slowly. He doesn’t look away from you, though he wets his lips as if the sight of you is making him hungry. 

Hoseok has a duality you have rarely seen before. Where he is an incredibly sweet person in his regular life, his bedroom self turns into a demon, a force to be reckoned with. No wonder sex with him is always so good.

When you’re finally naked, panties pooling around your ankles, Hoseok offers you a smirk. He doesn’t say anything, but he slowly undoes his belt, before motioning for you to get closer.

Only one step separates you from him, and then you’re standing right in front of him. He raises his hand, making you tilt your head back, and then he captures your mouth in a hungry kiss.

You can’t help but moan when he swats the belt at your side, the leather making your skin tingle. He pushes his tongue in your mouth, and your hands instinctively grab onto the hem of his shirt.

“Nu-uh,” he tuts, making you let go of it. “Get on your knees, baby.”

You drop to your knees, eyes darting to the bulge in his pants once before he makes you tilt your head back again. You gulp, right as he wraps his belt around your neck until the buckle is pressing against your skin. He doesn’t make it tight enough to hurt, but your hands still shake a little at being so vulnerable in front of him.

“You remember the safe word?” he asks.

“Red.”

He nods appreciatively. “And if you can’t speak, you tap my leg, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck you look so good like this.”

Not knowing if you can touch him, you just smile up at him, wetting your lips.

“Want to get a taste of me?”

You already know where this is going to lead. Hoseok fucked your mouth more than once in the three months you had casual sex with him. So you answer, “I want you to come down my throat.”

He smirks. “Good girl.”

With his free hand, he unbuttons his pants, before pushing them down his legs. He doesn’t step out of them, instead palming himself through his boxers. You watch the imprint of his dick, salivating at the sight, especially as precum is already wetting the fabric.

Hoseok doesn’t have a particularly big dick. But whenever he fucks you, it feels like he’s the biggest you’ve ever had, mostly because he knows how to use it. Knows how to move and snap his hips in a way that makes you think you’re seeing into the future. It also makes it so sucking his dick doesn’t hurt your jaw too much, so you’re able to do it for a longer period of time.

Tonight, you have an inkling that you’ll be doing it for a while.

He pushes his underwear down, freeing his dick. Your eyes drop to it, not surprised to see the angry, swollen tip. He looks like he’s about to burst, but you know it’s a trick of the eye – Hoseok has more stamina than one would think.

Holding the base of his dick, he brings the tip closer to your face. Your mouth falls open, expecting him to push his cock in, but he instead taps your cheek with it.

“I want to ruin you,” he says in a low voice. “I want you to never be able to fuck another guy because you still think of me.”

You gulp, tongue darting to wet your lips. He gets the cue, and he brings his dick to your mouth. You don’t hesitate before licking at his slit, the salty taste of his precum filling your mouth. You then wrap your lips around the head, giving a tentative suck as your tongue plays with the underside of it.

He grunts, cocking his head to the side. And then he starts pulling on the belt – just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it so it’s a tad harder to breathe. He’s usually pretty safe in his sex practices, but you feel like this could be dangerous.

You only then understand what he really meant by punishing you, and it makes your pussy drip on your thighs.

You moan around his dick, before slowly pushing forward until he hits the back of your throat, and your eyes water. You swallow around him, keeping the gag reflex at bay as he circles his hips. You pull away from his cock to move to his balls instead, still not using your hands as you lick at the spot between them, licking up his dick at the same time.

“Hands on me, baby,” he commands.

As per usual, you obey. One of your hands moves to fondle his balls, and the other wraps around the base of his cock so you can jerk him off as you suck. And then you get to work, eyes shutting as you concentrate on pulling grunts out of him.

He doesn’t let you do it for a long time. He’s quick to pull on the belt more – it’s a leash more than a belt, is it? – which makes you pull away, lips parted as you struggle to suck in some air.

“Eyes on me,” he tells you. “I want to see you cry as you choke on my dick.”

When he guides his cock back towards your mouth, you keep your eyes on him, ever so a good girl, and you let him thrust in your mouth. The first two times he does it, your gag reflex doesn’t show up, but the third time you gag, spit rolling on your chin as he pulls away. A line of drool connects his tip to your mouth, and it breaks as he once again taps his cock on your cheek. Tears water your eyes, and he watches you blink them away, slightly shaking his head in disapproval.

You know that was your last chance when he pushes his dick in your mouth again, establishing a steady yet hard rhythm that has your gaze blurring. You moan against him, right as he grunts, whispering filthy curses entwined with mentions of your name. And when he starts going faster, the sounds of you choking get louder. It’s indecent, pornographic, and tears roll on your cheeks as he throws his head back, grunting loudly.

“Fuck, baby.”

He stops at the back of your throat, looking down at you. He wipes some tears on your cheeks as you swallow around him. His dick twitches inside your mouth, but you know he’s not about to come.

Soon, perhaps, but not just yet.

“You’re okay?” he asks, because even though he’s pretty rough, he always does care about his partner too. 

He lets you pull away to catch your breath, releasing his tight hold on the belt too. You breathe raggedly, throat feeling raw from the intrusion.

“Yes,” you breathe out. 

“Good.” He licks his lips, offering you a dangerous chuckle. “You’re going to let me come down your throat?”

You nod, and he taps the tip of his dick against your sealed lips. You don’t remember shutting your mouth, so you open it wide again for him. He pushes forward, slowly, until all of it is embedded in your mouth, head pushing against the back of your throat. He remains unmoving long enough for you to gag, and then he pushes forward even more before pulling back.

When he starts fucking your mouth again, you know he’s chasing his high. So you fondle his balls, moan around his dick, try not to choke whenever he hits the back of your throat. Evidently, you still do sometimes, and tears roll down your cheeks by the time he growls, “Open your throat up for me, baby”.

You moan one last time, as he pushes all the way to the back of your mouth, grunting loudly as hot spurts of his cum fills your throat. As his dick twitches, he pulls out a little, and you know better than to swallow right away. So you patiently wait as he finishes, before fully pulling away. 

He grabs your jaw, and forces you to tilt your head back. “Open up.” You do, and he spits on top of his cum before saying, “Swallow”. You do that too, and the next time you open your mouth, it’s fully empty. Only then does he let go of your jaw, and he also quickly takes his belt off from around your neck, letting it drop to the floor.

It falls with a loud thump, and you breathe in deeply for the first time in a while. Your throat aches, and you massage your neck where the buckle left an indent in your skin. Concern grows on his features as you chuckle awkwardly, getting up from the floor.

Your knees are already hurting, and you know you’ll have bruises by the time you wake up tomorrow.

“Is your neck okay?” he asks.

You drop your hand, and his fingers ghost over the spot. “Yeah,” you reassure him. “It’ll be okay.”

“Good.” He smirks, and then he captures your lips in another heated kiss. One of his hands moves between your thighs, and he feels your wetness, groaning in satisfaction. “You’re dripping for me,” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“I am.”

He licks at your mouth, before saying, “Too bad you won’t be getting some tonight, mmh?”

And he moves his hand away from your core to settle it on your waist instead.

“What?” you let out.

At this, he laughs, and it’s a little mean. “You think I’ll make you come when you’ve ghosted me for a few months?” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Nah, you’re going to have to work for it, baby.”

You want to curse him, but somehow it just turns you on further. “When can I see you again then?”

He ponders for a time, pulling away so he can meet your gaze. “What about next weekend?”

You’re disappointed, but you try not to let it show. “Any chance you’d be available during the week?”

“Maybe,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Will you be nice and not touch yourself until then?”

You bite at your bottom lip, nodding once. 

“Then yes, we can hang out this week,” he concludes. He frees your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before gently tapping your cheek. “But I’ve got to go now.”

It surprises you. Back when you were friends with benefits, you always stayed the night at his place, so you expected him to stay tonight. But he immediately steps away from you, putting his clothes back on quickly as you just stand there, naked and awkward.

“You’re leaving?”

He glances at you as he’s putting his belt back on. “Yeah, won’t have you think I’m into you like that again.”

It hurts just a tad little bit, but at the same time you agree with him. Not sleeping over is a good way to avoid feelings, so you decide to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater so you can walk him to the front door.

Hoseok kisses your forehead once when you get there, before grabbing his coat. You watch as he slides his arms in it, draping it on his shoulders before he bends down to put his shoes on too. When he straightens, he offers you a hug and you gladly embrace him as he wishes you good night.

You’re somehow confused as you shut the door behind him, and you stay there for a few seconds, almost expecting him to come back. He doesn’t, and you’re left heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth, only so you can get rid of the taste of him, and then you head to your bedroom.

And as you lie awake in bed, the only thing you can hope is that Jungkook didn’t hear you after all. You’re ashamed of what you did, but you’re far too tired to think about it deeply. All you can do is stare at the wall in front of you, hoping that sleep will take you.

It doesn’t, not until the early hours of the morning, when the sun is starting to kiss the horizon, turning the sky to liquid gold.

Teaser | Chapter 1.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

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[euphorajeon]

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

— pairing: jk x f. reader

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

— word count: 12.4k

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

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

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

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No worries, Kiddo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

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

“What? He said it’s healing!”

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

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

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

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

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

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

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

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JIMIN!”

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

So much for sound solution.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

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

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

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

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

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

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

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

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

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

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

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

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

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

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

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

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

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

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

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

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

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

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

[smutoperator]

Noona's Birthday Gifts

Kim Taeyeon, Yu Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader, Friend

Part of Legends series

Tags: anal, birthday party, body fluids, bush, cheating, (a lot of) cock-sucking, (plenty of) cursing, double penetration, experience vs youth, facial, (many) female orgasms, foursome, golden shower, jealousy, monster cocks, NILF, piss drinking, prone bone, recording, riding, queefing, squirting, surprise creampie, sweaty, titfucking

Word count: 10059.

For nearly 17 years, Taeyeon has been one of the most beloved entertainment personalities in Korea. And it has been no different this year, as she has already scored yet another massive hit with "To. X." As she turns 35 years old, many come to congratulate her. But amidst all those celebrations, there was only one person she truly wanted to notice it.

"Happy birthday to the King, or should I say, to Korea's best slut," you tell her. Taeyeon smiles and takes it as a compliment. You two have a lot of history, as you've been her go-to guy for her sexcapades since her solo debut over 8 years ago. "So what do you have for me on this special occasion?" she asks. "Something very special; come to this place and you'll see it," you reply to her.

You give Taeyeon the address of an abandoned warehouse. It doesn't sound like the most inviting place for a birthday party, but you already have everything set up, including a very special guest. If it was any other guy, especially on her birthday, Taeyeon would tell him to fuck off. After all, no one tells her what to do or where to go. But not you; she knows you've always been a step ahead since the first time you met her.

As Taeyeon arrives at the warehouse, a second car is right beside her with another guest, a tall young girl with big tits that she knows very well.

"So you are the special guest," Taeyeon says to Karina. "Yes, unnie," she replies. "My guy really wants me to corrupt a so-called innocent girl, but I think you've been corrupted a long time ago. You even got the dispatch dating exposé. That truly means you made it. Welcome to the club. If you need any help, just call me." Taeyeon knows it well, as Karina has recently been exposed for dating, just like she did 10 years ago, yet just a few days later she's already cheating on him and hoping no paparazzi cameras see her.

As the two enter the warehouse, it turns out you have made a lot of changes to it, turning it into a very cozy space for the two to enjoy. You were at the back of it alongside your friend, as you let Taeyeon talk to Karina first and let her overcome her shyness and nervousness at the moment. "Just follow my lead," Taeyeon told her. Taeyeon was already turned on by the whole set-up; turning Karina into a dirty, filthy slut would be something she definitely wasn't expecting for her birthday. You never fail to deliver her the best surprises, don't you?

Taeyeon already looked naugthly at you and your friend, who were shirtless. But she wasn't looking at your well-defined torso but rather at the massive bulge under both of your shorts. Both eight and a half inches, the best she's ever taken. It was double the size of Karina's boyfriend, so she was eager to see how the young girl would take it herself. Her and Karina whispered at each other's ears, talking about your amazing physical features but especially about that boner under your pants.

"Sex with him is so good; I'll do anything for him," Taeyeon told Karina, getting her excited. She spoke from a lot of built-on experience. After so many years, you guys had developed an amazing chemistry that was unmatched even by real couples. If one day Taeyeon decided on the facade of getting married, you'd be her de facto husband. Since the day you two met, Taeyeon hasn't missed a single week without having sex with you, even in her busiest times.

Taeyeon already feels the heat burning under her dress. She's wearing no panties because she knows she won't need them today. After ignoring her for a while, you finally stared at her face, pouring some oil on your torso. "Ready for some slicky party, Tae?" she asked you. "I was born ready," she replied. You truly love Taeyeon's confidence. Women over 30 are just your thing. Their experience always leads to something very hot, and boy, does Taeyeon have a lot of it.

"Bring her to me." It may be Taeyeon's birthday, but your eyes first went to Karina. This was your first time with her, even though you had heard a lot about Karina already. Meanwhile, Taeyeon went to your friend while you looked at Rina's amazing baby-making body. 

Already paired, you two started kissing the girls right next to each other. You could already sense Karina was a very good kisser. Maybe she trained a lot with her boyfriend. Karina was more into romantic kisses, while Taeyeon was really sloppy, as your friend could tell, loving to sweep her tongue all over his mouth. Truly, she moved really fast. While you were still enjoying Karina, Taeyeon was already moving further down your friend's torso and already touching his clothed bulge.

As you started touching Karina close to her pussy, Taeyeon already had her ass out in the open as she lifted her dress. Your friend noticed and lifted it even further, with Taeyeon now naked from the waist down. You were much slower with Karina, getting to know her first as you moved around her stacked body. Your friend and Taeyeon had no such restraints, as you could already hear him slapping her ass as he grabbed her cheeks with both hands.

It took a while for you to undress Karina, but as soon as you did, you took her entire dress off in one go, even before your friend could do the same for Taeyeon. People weren't lying when they were talking about her body. Every inch of it is amazing. Of course, her boobs are the standout, but Karina also got perfect-toned legs and quite a nice ass to boost as well, alongside, of course, her goddess-like visuals.

Not even a couple seconds before getting Karina fully naked, and you're already sucking her tits like a baby, which you follow with some kisses and a nice grab of her ass, pushing her closer to you. Maenwhile, Taeyeon is teasing your friend, getting naked now from the boobs down until she finally lifts her arm to take her dress off. You can hear her typical smirk as she does so. Now both girls only have their sneakers on. If you and Karina enjoy themselves in a very slow manner, Taeyeon and your friend prefer instead a very fast-paced one, creating a great contrast between both couples.

Karina is the first to get on her knees, just as you start rubbing your clothed erection on her body. She easily takes your shorts off and reveals your already hard and swinging cock. Karina grabs it with amazement and starts working it into her mouth. You wonder if Taeyeon taught a thing or two to her because she gives you a great blowjob, already leaving your massive meat throbbing from the start and giving it multiple rocket punches with her mouth. You truly don't know where to look. Down low, Karina is sucking the soul out of you. In front of you, Taeyeon's tiny, naked frame is getting her ass grabbed nonstop by your friend.

"Suck it, suck it, baby," you tell Karina. As she continues her sexy blowjob, Taeyeon joins her and starts sucking your friend off. While Karina gives a very fast-paced blowjob, Taeyeon is now the one who goes slow, getting very sloppy with her mouth in your friend's cock. Karina rolls her eyes as your meat is too big for her to take fully in her throat. Taeyeon, on the other hand, slowly twists your friend's cock as she sucks his tip. The fast movement of Karina makes her boobs jiggle a lot, while Taeyeon teases your friend, dunking her head halfway into his length while firmly grabbing it with her left hand.

Karina spits all over your cock, trying to get it deeper in the throat. Menawhile, Taeyeon is already taking your friend's full length in her mouth, bobbing her head on it like a horny animal. You start fucking Karina's face as her eye-rolling gets more exaggerated, with her giving you a dumb-faced look. She clearly struggles; going from her boyfriend, who is 5 inches on a good day, to your massive 8 and a half proves to be quite the difference. What is basically a deepthroat with him only covers slightly half of your length.

While Karina coughs at each thrust you give her face, Taeyeon is already in full control of your friend's pole, throating it like a champion. His is just half an inch under yours, meaning her years of training on your meat turn his into an easy task for her. Both get sloppy, as they have saliva running down their chins all the way down to their chests, but while Karina moans like a sexy kitty, you barely hear anything from Taeyeon, who is fully concentrated like she always has been. Your friend fucks her face, yet she barely flinches. In the end, even with another big cock filling her needy hole, Taeyeon can't stop thinking of yours and feels a little jealous of Karina getting to suck it on her birthday.

Taeyeon and Karina continue to bob their heads on each cock. You can see from above that it takes a lot more effort for Rina than it does for your hot noona. But no big deal; she's gonna learn as time goes on. Karina, after all, was just a 7-year-old kid at the time Taeyeon started her career. Watching Taeyeon choke on your friend's meat gives you great memories from all those times you did that to her, but it also makes you appreciate that Karina is trying her very best against a truly legendary whore like her unnie.

You told Taeyeon this would be a very slick sex session, and she took it to heart, filling her chest with spit after gagging on your friend's cock. Not even 10 minutes in, and Taeyeon's body is already full of fluids. She uses her hands to rub them all over it. Her mouth gets repeatedly pounded, yet she keeps asking for more without even needing to say a word. "Yes, spit on it," your friend says, as he loves how messy Taeyeon is already getting.

The blowjob session continues for a while, as you keep taking it gently with Karina while Taeyeon gets messier with your friend's pole as each second passes by, rising to this special occasion like she has always done for her entire career. You gotta give props to your friend, because you remember when Taeyeon did this to you on her 30th birthday and you nutted all over her throat as your cock couldn't resist her sword-engulfing skills.

You call Taeyeon's attention as you guys swap partners. It's your turn to finally enjoy the birthday girl. The two continue to suck their partners' cocks as if they took no breaks, Karina with her firm and high-effort blowjob and Taeyeon with her sloppy mess of cock-sucking you always love to experience as she now dives under your balls and slows down and heats them up trying to get your pole even bigger, in contrast to Karina's high-energy blowjob of your friend.

Your friend gets too excited and tries to fuck Karina's face, just like he did Taeyeon's. Poor girl initially suffers as he grabs her hair and tries to shove his meat on her throat, but I guess yours was good enough training that she quickly adjusts to it. Meanwhile, Taeyeon keeps sucking you hard and deep as Karina gives your friend's shaft and balls some love. "You're so pretty sucking that cock," your friend compliments her.

"I want to see that dick reach 9 inches before you get it inside me," Taeyeon tells you as she keeps sucking your cock. Her dirty words turn you on even more. That woman knows how to be an amazing slut. You just keep pushing your whole blood to your cock, ready to give her the best gift you can for this special occasion, as she continues to take it sloppily on her throat. "What a beautiful fucking mouth!" you praise her as she smirks at you.

Taeyeon slaps your cock all over her face and bubbles on it with her sloppy mouth. You've seen it many times; she's activated her extreme cock-hungry slut mode. "Hmmmm yeah," Taeyeon sexily says as she turns her cheeks into a drum for your huge stick. "The best thing about my job is having such a big dick that's all mine," Taeyeon brags as you now fuck her face and grow bigger in her throat.

After a little more ball-sucking, Taeyeon is ready to jump towards nastier ventures. "Turn around," she asks as she dives her little head straight into your butt, licking your asshole like a maniac. "Is this the cake you wanted for your birthday?" you poke at her. On the other side, it's your friend's turn to get on his knees as she starts eating Karina's wonderful pink pussy.

"Ahhhh. Ahhhh." Karina sexily moans as your friend dives inside her perfect folds. Her fully shaved slit with closed outer lips contrasts with Taeyeon's wide-open meaty lips and the full bush she is spotting today, just like you prefer. Karina starts sweating all over her torso as she pushes your friend's head deeper into her vagina, softly moaning at each lick he gives her. "Yeah, it feels so good," she says using her soft voice, contrasting with Taeyeon's loud noises as she keeps choking on your cock.

Karina holds herself against one of the warehouse's pillars, her nipples getting fully erect as she prepares herself for an orgasm, cumming just as Taeyeon gags on your cock. As Karina's orgasming sounds take control of the room, Taeyeon continues to be a deranged whore who only cares about spitting as hard as she can on your cock. "Use me like a gloryhole," she says as you pop your cock in and out of her mouth.

You carry Taeyeon's tiny body towards a trio of gym mats on the other side of the warehouse, while Karina takes a bit longer to come in as her orgasm hasn't finished yet. You two get very touchy as Taeyeon moves her face up to kiss you while you run her hands all over her ass, giving her a little spank. If Taeyeon's little ass gets most of your attention, your friend can't help but be very touchy towards Karina's big tits, massaging them from behind as soon as she turns around and stops kissing him.

Taeyeon sets her sights on jerking your cock while your friend keeps fondling Karina's milk bags as she licks her chops and even gives him a little guidance on how to run his hands over her boobs. Rina is the first to get on her knees in the mats, ready to sit on your friend's big pole as he slaps it towards her entrance. As you and Taeyeon continue your long, sloppy cock-sucking session, Karina is already fully seated on your friend's cock, ready to ride it as her sexy moans go back to fill the room.

"Hmmm, you're a dirty girl," Taeyeon says as she diverts her attention towards Karina and enjoys watching her riding that dick in reverse cowgirl and how much her big boobs are already bouncing, reminding her of when the tall girl with big bouncy tits alongside her was her groupmate Seohyun. "Are you enjoying riding that dick like that?" Taeyeon asks Karina as she starts fingering her beautiful pussy. "Hmmmm yeah," Karina says in between moans, loving watching your friend's big cock disappear under her tight pink pussy.

"Stretch that tight young pussy," Taeyeon tells your friend as Karina freely bounces on it and reaches the full base of his cock. The thing she enjoys the most after taking a big dick herself is watching another girl do the same, which ramps up her eagerness to eleven. It isn't an easy ride for Karina as she closes her eyes while your friend's cock hits all the way up her cervix, but Taeyeon is there to praise the youngester and tell her to keep going. "You're doing well; don't stop," Taeyeon tells as she picks Karina's right boob to suck while letting the other one still freely jiggle.

As Taeyeon detaches from Karina and lets her bounce freely on your friend's cock, she already lines up her pussy and puts your cock in without even looking at you. Taeyeon is so experienced, she already knows everything about your erection, especially where it points. Her loose pussy offers little resistance to your 9-inch dick, and soon enough, your meat is already deep inside her. But once you're fully in, the recognizable warmth of her cunt can be immediately felt.

Taeyeon gets on all fours as she bounces on your cock. Even in a position like doggy, where the man is the dominant one, Taeyeon still manages to keep control. Her walls slowly grip your cock while your bulge pokes her skin around her navel. You try to grab Taeyeon's ass, but second thoughts come to your mind. "It's her birthday; she is gonna do whatever she wants," you say in your head between more and more moans from Karina, who's now getting fully impaled by your friend.

"I love that fucking pussy taking that dick all the way in," Taeyeon tells Karina, never missing a chance to praise the young girl for her efforts in taking both guys big cocks. You felt a little jealous as Taeyeon gave most of her attention to Karina than to you, but she couldn't help herself; her caring unnie instincts always appear on those occasions. "Nice ride," Taeyeon tells Karina, as she loves the way her tits bounce.

You push Taeyeon a little closer to you as your friend takes a break to slap his cock on Karina's pussy. "Oh fuck," Karina says as soon as he puts it back in. Meanwhile, you increase the pace, grabbing Taeyeon by her waist and showing your cock deeper inside her tiny body. But Taeyeon quickly counters and regains control of the ride, all while giving Karina's pussy a little extra heat with her hands.

"Take that cock!" Taeyeon continues to cheer on Karina as her melons get more and more jiggly and her pussy gets more and more impaled. "Oh my God," Karina groans as your friend now thrusts up her pussy and Taeyeon smirks, giving the young girl's tits some slaps as they get on her range. It may be Taeyeon's party, but Karina is the one getting fucked hard, as she spreads her legs and lets your friend manhandle her. Taeyeon starts getting a little faster herself, humping on your dick with increased intensity as well, but never losing sight of Karina.

"Oh fuck," Karina keeps getting destroyed. Your friend is completely addicted to her tight, young pussy and plows her nonstop while she fingers herself. You and Taeyeon get romantic, kissing each other as you two enjoy watching her get pounded. 'Right there," as Karina settles on your friend's cock, Taeyeon starts giving you some instructions, with you trying to match his intensity. Both of you now have your hands on your partner's tits, with you taking Tayeon's perky little boobs from behind while your friend reaches up top to grope Karina's massive honkers.

"Uhhhhh, yes, yes, yes, please, right there." Taeyeon is now the one moaning as Karina rotates her hips on your friend's cock while you pound the noona's little body. You two get very sweaty as time goes on, sliding all over the gym mat. "Ohhh, things are getting hot in here," Taeyeon notices as Karina tilts her body towards your friend's torso and lifts her legs as he starts pounding her in a full Nelson for a few seconds. "Tease that fucking cunt," Taeyeon tells him as he keeps slapping his shaft on Karina's clit. 

"Put it back in there," Karina begs. "Ooooh, you like that cock stretching that pussy don't you, Rina?" Taeyeon teases her as her hands reach onto Karina's clit even with your hard pounding from behind. "You like this slutty little pussy?" Taeyeon asks this time directed towards your friend.

"Dirty whore," you spank Taeyeon's ass and fuck her hard. She doesn't leave your dirty talk unsawered: "Yes, I'm a dirty whore, and you fucking love that; look how hard you're working for that dirty whore's cunt," she says. "It looks like Karina is one as well, taking that big dick so fucking deep," Taeyeon continues. "Fuck me, please," Karina says. "Yes, fuck her; I want you to fuck her until that pussy is sore," Taeyeon tells your friend, who can't help but accept her offer.

You had turned into just an accessory as Taeyeon enjoyed your friend and Karina's fuckfest. But that was about to change. Taeyeon ducks her head down and rests it against the gym mat, as she wants you to top her. You noticed and quickly followed suit. With only her knees holding her little weight, Taeyeon gets ragdolled by your huge cock, enjoying every second of it. "OH MY GOD, FUCK YES!" she lets out her first scream. "Fuck, you're so fucking big," Taeyeon praises your 9-inch meat ripping her cunt apart, while getting a privileged view of Karina now grinding on your friend's dick.

"Yes, take me; yes, take that fucking pussy like that." Taeyeon demands your full efforts. You do anything to please the birthday girl. "That's so fucking good; stretch my pussy; turn it loose," she keeps telling you. "Take me like that," she continues as your cock pumps her cunt nonstop. "Take that fucking pussy with that big fucking dick." Taeyeon's dirty talk has no brakes as you pin her body down the matress with your strong, muscular hands.

Taeyeon gets up as you let her taste her juices while you now slide down the gym mat. In the background of your romantic make-out, Karina continues to get impaled. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming," she says just as Taeyeon starts to suck you off, fingering herself and riding your friend's cock hard as her boobs keep jiggling. "Yes, cum all over that fucking dick, dirty little slut," Taeyeon tells her as soon as she hears it, now getting on her knees as she faces you and lets Karina enjoy from up top how she sucks your cock.

After a long ride and a massive release of fluids coming down her pussy, Karina gets up to suck your friend's cock, mirroing Taeyeon. Soon, she wraps her big tits around your friend's shaft, sliding his wet cock up and down her massive melons with ease. "Jerk my cock off," your friend tells her. "Yes, baby, look at those big tits all over that cock," Karina smiles, Taeyeon cheering on her in the background as she watches her titfucking session while never losing sight of your cock in her mouth. "So good," your friend approves.

Taeyeon sits on your lap as she grinds her hips against your hard cock, warming it up for more while she watches. Karina sucks your friend's big pick like crazy. You two give each other torrid kisses, as Taeyeon really enjoys spending her birthday with her favorite lover. "You're such a lovely slut," you whisper in her ear as Taeyeon smiles and starts jerking your cock, pressing it between your body and hers. "Time to ride that dick," you tell her as you lie your body in the matress, letting Taeyeon slide that prick inside her warm cunt once again.

"That cock is so good," a very sweaty Taeyeon says as she slides it fully inside her pussy. As Karina keeps jerking your friend off with her tits, Taeyeon is now the one bouncing. Her ride is insane, with her taking very rapid, short thrusts down your cock that don't let you rest for a second. You never cease to be amazed at how Taeyeon places her hands on your chest and just humps that cock like crazy.

"Yeah, yeah, ahhhh," Taeyeon moans as she increases the speed of her ride. Karina watches and is eager to follow the lead of her unnie. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHH." Taeyeon screams fill up the room as she moves faster, going full dick-riding whore mode. Soon, Karina also sits on your friend's cock, this time facing him and giving him easier access to her huge tits.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you say as Taeyeon gives your cock no rest and her cheeks clap hard against your hips. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she gives you some aegyo-esque moans as if she were still that teenager who once sang Gee, as she smashes your cock full speed. Karina tries to be a good student and copies Taeyeon's riding motion, but while doing it well, she just can't match Taeyeon's insane speed while mounting on a horse-hung cock. It's truly a skill that takes years to master, and Taeyeon is one of the very few that can do it like it's a walk in the park.

Your friend slaps Karina's fit ass, and she knows she has to go faster, but by the time she does, Taeyeon has already switched her motion, sitting hard on your cock as if she were just bouncing on one of those big yoga exercise balls. "Ohhh, baby, fuck," you're now the one on the edge as Taeyeon shows no mercy for your cock. If it depended just on her will, it would get snapped in half. Her ride is so intense that it feels like she's been possessed by some sex demon. 

Karina moans, as trying to match Taeyeon's energy proves too much for her. "Oh God, fuck," she groans as her pussy throbs and your friend keeps spanking her ass. Meanwhile, you can't do anything; Taeyeon is just on a whole new planet at this point. All you want is not to cum prematurely on her birthday once more. Five years ago, it was her throat; today, it could be her cunt, in five years, it might be her ass. This woman is the devil.

Taengoo's pussy is wet at this point; it starts queefing at each bounce she gives you, as your cock now meets a puddle of squirt inside her hole. You go feral, and it takes just a little stop in her ride for you to start pumping it up hard, as if you were seeking revenge on her for those demonic bounces a couple minutes ago. As you and Taeyeon duel like a fighting couple, making a lot of noise at each thrust, Karina just enjoys your friend's hard cock buried deep in her tight pussy.

Taeyeon tilts her body in your direction as she switches her riding motion once again. You respond by shoving your finger up her asshole. And what a switch that was, as her eyes stare right at Karina's bouncing body, and the first thing she sees are the youngster's tits in motion. However, this was just a trap that Taeyeon sets on her, as she quickly goes back to her original spot and keeps bouncing on your cock, while Karina, trying to follow, gets annihilated down under by your friend's dick.

"Yes, bow to that fucking cock," Taeyeon tells Karina while you grab her by her little boobs. The birthday girl is now the one seeing everything from above, turned on by watching Karina get plowed while she keeps bouncing on you nonstop, your bodies getting more and more slippery as her sweat and squirt spill all over you. "Ahhh, shit," you end up forcing her to stop in the middle of her ride just to survive. Well, you might have survived, but Karina's pussy is definitely getting killed at each thrust of your friend's big meat.

Your relief doesn't last long. "You can't stop like that; I'm the one who gives the commands." Taeyeon is angry you couldn't stand her ride and teaches you a lesson, gyrating her hips all over your cock and hitting it from every possible angle. This time you can survive her bombardment, as your cock gives in and surprises her with a single but massive sperm pump in her womb.

"Pleeeease," Karina begs as your friend keeps hitting her pussy hard. Meanwhile, Taeyeon was not on the pill, but she doesn't give a shit that you just ejaculated inside her, just enjoying the blend of fluids inside her needy pussy, all of them mixed by your huge cock: sweat, squirt, and cum. The sloppier, the better. She's known you for years and was aware you couldn't resist, as she now switches to a straight ride that expels all those fluids down her pussy into your shaft, balls, and crotch at each pump.

"You want more of that pussy?" Taeyeon rhetorically asks as you remain hard all the time, even after shooting inside her. To her side, Karina now starts riding in some crab-esque motion that Taeyeon can't help but find funny. "He's really getting those legs shaking," she tells her.

As you two finally finish your epic ride, it feels like Taeyeon wants more, bouncing her hips in the air with your cock already out of her. More fluids come out of her pussy, most of it being her squirt and your cum. Taeyeon makes sure to swallow all of them before moving on to the next round. "Ahh fuck," you scream, relieved that Taeyeon's cock torture is finally over. That woman really knows how to drain you.

Taeyeon dives straight to your cock, making sure it's back to the ideal size she wants. Any hint of flaccidness is gone in a couple seconds of her mouth working on it. Like a good, caring unnie, Taeyeon shares your cock with Karina, letting the youngster get spit-roasted as she tastes your wet dick already back at full strength. Taeyeon laughs as Karina is now just a piece of meat slotted between two hard cocks. "Look at that fucking slut," she says as she grabs Karina's hair and dunks her head against your dick.

Karina loves the way her unnie treats her, smiling at Taeyeon's face as soon as she lets her pull out of it, making your cock even sloppier. As Taeyeon now takes care of it, you get up to kiss Karina, who is still getting impaled by your friend during all this time, as he never lets go of her. You watch Karina's boobs bounce and then shove Taeyeon's face against your crotch. "Throat it, slut, choke on that fucking cock just like that," you tell her, still upset that she made you cum earlier.

"Oh my god, fuck, I'm gonna cum again." Karina is really straight-forward, and damn, her pussy is really sensitive as she braces herself for her third orgasm. One thing is certain: Karina came here just for fun but will come out with the perfect guy for whatever escapades she makes when she gets bored of her boyfriend. "Make her fucking cum," Taeyeon tells your friend as Karina's moans get softer and more childlike at every bounce on his cock.

Karina's queefing pussy finally gives in as she orgasms all over your friend's cock. As she cums, he tounches her very sensitive boobs, sending her to the heavens. While Karina gets up to taste her juices, you put Taeyeon in a fetal position and go down on her meaty, bushy cunt. "OH MY GOD! YES!" Taeyeon screams as she gets upside down, your tongue working all over her cum-filled, squirting babyhole. Her legs shake as you increase the heat in her vagina, filling the room with her moans. "You can't stop singing even during sex, holy shit" you mock her.

"OH FUCK. AHHHH. YESS." Taeyeon continues to let her feelings out as her pussy gets overwhelmed by your sweeping tongue. You move up and down, side by side, tasting every inch of her cunt. "AHHHHHH. AHHHHHH. AHHHHH." Taeyeon screams. You were truly throwing the perfect party for her. "Hmmm, so fucking hot," Karina tells her as Taeyeon wraps your legs around your head, ready to deliver a singing orgasm. Karina is already on all fours as your friend now takes her from behind, but you and Taeyeon aren't even noticing, fully focused on making the most of such a hot moment.

Taeyeon's legs tremble and open up as she cums. She fully spreads her legs as her sweaty body slides on the floor, and she squirts all over your face, giving you a big smirk. Not even seconds after finishing her orgasm, she already knows what's up next: "We are late," she tells you, getting on all fours to match Karina as the two kiss each other.

"FUCK!" Taeyeon yells hard as soon as you penetrate her pussy. But Karina is having a much harder time even staying up, as your friend's big bull has been manhandling her for a long time now. Both couples are now in perfect sync, but while Taeyeon takes your poundings with eyes wide open, Karina just closes her eyes as her pussy is already extremely sore after three orgasms and your friend molding it to the shape of his cock.

You spank Taeyeon's ass, and your friend soon follows and spanks Karina's. Now we've got two dueling whores—a match between youth and experience. On one side, moans and jiggly boobs; on the other, smiles at each penetration and the desire for more. "Oh my God, you hit me so fucking deep," Taeyeon tells you as she rolls her eyes. It turns out even the top whores can feel a lot of heat with such a massive cock like yours.

On the other side, Karina simply has no control over her boobs, letting them freely bounce like an airmless weapon. As they bump against each other, Karina's gets even more sensitive. But Taeyeon is no further behind. The two sluts now fully close her eyes and become just a pair of fucktoys on your and your friend's hands as you two firmly grab them by their little waists and keep pounding them.

"Good girls." You two praise them as they keep moaning with your cocks buried deep inside their cunts. Taeyeon and Karina look at each other and share kisses once more; it's the only relief they get amidst the pair of cocks stretching them out as hard as they can. "You look so hot getting fucked on all fours," Taeyeon tells Karina, who enjoys her unnie's compliments. Your friend now gives Karina's shoulders a massage while fucking her, while you firmly grip Taeyeon by her waist and love how she feels the heat of your cock hitting her tiny cum-filled womb all the way up to her cervix.

"God damn it," Taeyeon curses as the doggystyle fucking session keeps going on. "Oh my God, yes," Karina follows up as their hairs are now completely messy and sweaty and the rest of their bodies are aching as they have been turned into cocksleeves for your big meats. Karina has to use her long nails to cling to the gym mattress. Taeyeon pretends to sturggle to stay on her feet, but that tiny girl is stronger than most give her credit, as she rightens up her hair even with just one hand holding all the strangth of your poundings.

Taeyeon regains enough strangth that she starts moving her hips up and down your shaft. You give her ass a spank in approval." YES, FUCK, YES, OH MY GOD, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. On the other side, Karina is just a screaming mess as she starts shaking again. Little does she know, things are about to get even harder for her.

"Let's get down," you tell Taeyeon, who slides her body to the mat fully. Karina follows suit. You know this is Taeyeon's favorite position. She loves getting prone-boned by a massive cock up her holes. And of course, you're not gonna forget about it on her birthday of all days. Taeyeon reaches down and adjusts your cock to penetrate her at the best possible angle. Meanwhile, your friend doesn't even wait for you to start, already pounding Karina's pink slit as he gets more and more addicted to it.

"Fuck me like your life depends on it," Taeyeon tells you as you bone her. Meanwhile, Karina can only moan as she is getting stretched out nonstop. Taeyeon looks at her and gives her a little smirk before asking, "How long can you last?". "Not much, unnie. AHHHHHHHH," she says, barely able to finish.

"THAT FUCKING DICK IS SO GOOD, YOU GO SO FUCKING DEEP," Taeyeon screams as you pound her nonstop. Your session has essentially turned into a pair of hard dueling swords to see who can fuck their partner the hardest. Your balls smack Taeyeon's clit at each thrust, while your friend now slides his hands under Karina to fondle her tits while smashing them against the floor at each pounding. Even Taeyeon feels overwhelmed as you guys don't lift the foot off the gas at any second. 

"FUCKK. AHHHHH!" Taeyeon screams with her mouth wide open, while Karina grinds her teeth as your friend destroys her sore pussy. You and Taeyeon hotly kiss each other while Karina gets completely topped. "I think she's gonna collapse," Taeyeon whispers to you. "Stay put, you dirty little slut," Taeyeon tells Karina, as her guy keeps pumping her. Taeyeon's words make Karina find the last bit of strength she still has left, enduring your friend's bombardment of her pussy for a little longer.

You and Taeyeon continue to make out. "You look so fucking hot taking that cock," she tells Karina; she really enjoys watching her get destroyed. "Give it to me," she tells you, feeling a little jealous of Karina as the youngster's tits are now completely pressed against the floor and getting fondled by her man's, making Taeyeon wish she had such big boobs to feel the same way.

The two girls cum at the same time. While Taeyeon is sharing kisses with you, Karina has completely collapsed, with even her head now smashed in the floor, all that with your friend's cock still buried deep inside her. You two now finally move at a slower speed, just riding their orgasms. "I think I'm done for today; my pussy walls are so swollen they doubled in size. He really fucked me good," Karina says. She may have been out of combat, but Taeyeon is ready for more. "No problem, but please stay for the rest of the party," Taeyeon asks her. "Of course, unnie. I'll do everything you ask me," Karina gently replies.

"I want both of you to take turns in my ass," Taeyeon tells them as your friend pulls out of Karina, staring at both men with naughty eyes. Karina smiles, feeling like she's about to watch something special.

Taeyeon stays on the mat, with you just turning her body at a 90-degree angle. She gasps as your meat enters her asshole. No matter how familiar she is with your cock, it happens every single time you fuck her ass. At the same position you were fucking her pussy, you start drilling her butthole. "OHHHH. FUCKKK," she says. The only action going on is now you and her going 1 vs. 1. Her pussy squirts all over the matress as you gape her ass.

"So hot," Karina says. She really made the right decision to stay. Taeyeon is about to teach her how to become a top slut. "Yes, please, right there, fuck," Taeyeon says as Karina spreads her unnie's cheeks for your massive meat. Her eyes are now completely closed. The way you anally fucked her was truly special; no other guy could stretch her asshole the way you could, and Taeyeon knew that all the way back in the first time you two met each other.

"I love the way you stretch my tight little ass," Taeyeon tells you. You have heard that multiple times already, but it always turns you on. "Don't you fucking stop," she keeps saying. The way you fuck her is so simple, yet the chemistry between both of you is just amazing and scorching hot. Karina definitely seems to agree as she watches it up close. You now fuck Taeyeon's ass at a straight angle, sending her over the moon in the process. Close to you, Karina can only gasp at how your meat disappears inside her unnie's tiny hole with such ease. Nine whole inches, and she takes it like it's nothing.

"Such a big fucking dick," Taeyeon praises your massive manhood. "And you're such a good girl, spreading Unnie's ass," she says to Karina as you finish fucking her ass. Now, it's your friend's turn. "Give me that big gift up my ass for the first time," Taeyeon tells your friend while Karina licks her asshole in preparation. "Dirty slut wants to taste it?" she pokes her. As Karina gapes her unnie's ass, your friend takes your cock up Taeyeon's butt with ease. "Yes, please, take turns in my ass," she begs once more.

"Yes, right there, oh my godddddd, fuck," Taeyeon moans as if she were singing. You enjoy the way your friend stretches her butthole out as she closes her eyes and gets her hole fucked good. "Stuffing my fucking ass like a champion," she says, giving your friend a compliment as he reaches deeper. "Oh my God, you're gonna make me cum," she tells him as she reaches balls deep. 

Your friend can resist and starts manhandling Taeyeon's tiny ass. "Get in there," he says. "AHHHHHHH," she screams as soon as he starts fucking her faster. Taeyeon was truly caught by surprise as her clenched pussy opened up while her ass got destroyed. "SHITTTTT," your friend didn't come to play, as he truly wants to dethrone you for the number one spot among the best fuckers in Taeyeon's tight butt. 

"Yes, please, fucking destroy this fucking ass," Taeyeon says. Now for every two words that come from her mouth, one is a f-bomb. "Fuck, you're so fucking hot," she tells your friend as his balls make contact with her cunt. "Make me fucking cum, please; show how much you love this tight little hole," she tells him. "Fuck me harder, fuck me, fuck me hard like that," she keeps incentivizing him one f-bomb at a time. "Give it to her," you say in the background. 

"Are you ready to cum, baby?" he asks Taeyeon. "Yes, give it to me; make me your little slut," she replies. Soon enough, your friend gives Taeyeon that coveted anal orgasm she is craving. Taeyeon's body stays shaking on the floor as Karina tastes your friend's cock, eager to enjoy her unnie's butthole as she gives him a sloppy blowjob, while Taeyeon goes back to suck yours.

"I want both of you inside me," Taeyeon tells you as she gives your cock a little lick. You lie both on the mattress as she gets ready to sit her ass on your erect pole. "Fuck that dick is so big," Taeyeon whispers as your pole fully impales her asshole, staring at Karina, who enjoys her little unnie getting stuffed like a whore. 

"I want you to put your dick inside me too, come on, do it, don't be shy," Taeyeon begs your friend, looking at him with eyes full of lust as she rests her body on top of yours and rests her head on Karina's torso, while the youngester now sits on top of your face. Taeyeon spreads her meaty, used-up cunt for your friend's huge cock. "Yes, please, get in," she tells him as he teases her, going in and out of her pussy.

"Stuff me, please; I want both your dicks inside me. JUST LIKE THAT," she screams as your friend fully commits to her pussy, pumping it hard from the start. Nothing Taeyeon loves more than a pair of candles double penetrating her on her birthday. But for the first time, she's got someone else to watch it, which makes it even hotter for her. Just like before, Taeyeon moans as if she's singing, clinging to Karina's body as she reaches her little arms at her waist, while her head rests just under Karina's tits, her tiny body moving up and down yours as your friend pounds her pussy.

"That's so fucking good; your guys dicks are so fucking big," Taeyeon says as she now grabs Karina's boobs while your friend fingers her pussy and plays with her big bush. "Fuck, you guys are so good to me, giving me the best birthday ever and stretching out my fucking holes like that," Taeyeon says as she clenches them hard around your cock. "Watch it, Rina; this is what sluts are made of," she tells the youngster while looking at her, although the only thing she can see are her boobs.

Your friend chokes Taeyeon, who tells him she finds it hot. "You like watching me get fucked by both of these cocks?" Taeyeon asks Karina as her head slides right between the young girl's tits. "Soon you'll be the one taking those big fucking dicks for your birthday," she tells Karina. "If you haven't already, of course," Taeyeon laughs. "You fucking boys stuff me so fucking good; you take that fucking ass and pussy so... good," she tells them as both of you increase the pace of your thursts inside her holes.

Karina holds Taeyeon's legs up in the air, looking at your friend and future sexcapade guy licking her chops, thinking to herself that she can't wait to be at Taeyeon's place. "I hope my boyfriend doesn't mind it," she tells herself. "That pussy is so good," your friend tells Taeyeon, impressed at how quickly her hole gets wet for his cock. And just as he notices it, she says, "Fuck, you're gonna fucking make me cum. Yes, please, fuck please," Taeyeon tells him.

Your friend truly wasn't ready for what came next. As he shoved his cock deeper into Taeyeon's vagina, he started groaning. Her walls clenched, and she started "biting" his cock, which bends just at her entrance. Taeyeon puts her finger on his clit and closes her eyes as she starts cumming, expelling his cock out with a volcanic squirt that reaches all the way up into his torso.

"OHHHHHHH!" Tayeon screams as she squirts. "Holy shit," your friend says, amazed at the geyser coming out of her cunt that gets his body wet from top to bottom. "Fuck her harder, make her squirt harder," Karina tells him as soon as he finds room to go back inside Taeyeon's pussy. He grabs Taeyeon's left leg with one hand and her neck with the other, pounding her wet puddle of a cunt as hard as he can under the watchful and naughty eye of Karina.

"You're so fucking hot taking me, taking that fucking pussy like that." Taeyeon praises your friend as she licks the juices from her cunt. He fingers her, hoping for another river of squirt, as Taeyeon wraps her arms around Karina's waist. Meanwhile, Taeyeon's waist gets grabbed hard by your friend, who pounds her so fast that he makes your cock slip out of Taeyeon's asshole.

Taeyeon massages your hard cock out of her hole while your friend keeps giving her a rough missionary. "Let me taste your fucking cock," she tells him, kicking him out of her pussy and sliding down your body to blow his cock off. Jealousy starts to get into your head. For the first time in a long while, your cock isn't Taeyeon's preferred choice. She kisses your friend and praises his cock in front of you, to the point where it feels like she's doing it on purpose.

You only have Karina's mouth on your cock to please you; meanwhile, your friend is putting his filthy hands all over Taeyeon's wet pussy and helping her squirt again, much to her delight as she kisses him. Taeyeon screams as he makes her squirt, followed by a laugh and a kiss as she follows. Soon, she's riding his cock as well. "Rina, you're so hot sucking this dick," Taeyeon tells her as Karina keeps savoring your monster pole. 

For the first time in a while, Taeyeon gets closer to you as she kisses Karina to get a taste of your cock. You feel a little angry, but you don't want to be an asshole and ruin her party. Lucky for you, Taeyeon's next request to Karina ends up being a blessing to you.

"Rina, do me a favor," Taeyeon starts. "Go to my bag, get my phone, and film me taking both their cocks," she finishes. Karina starts to laugh at her unnie's outrageous request. Taeyeon really wanted that recording as her birthday souvenir. As Karina gets up to pick up the phone, you lick your chops, looking right into Taeyeon's eyes. As she rides your friend's cock in her pussy, her ass is wide open for you to top her. You know this is your chance to reassert your spot as her top man, and you're gonna take it and stuff her just like you did the first time you two met each other.

Taeyeon looks really excited while riding his dick. As Karina gets her unnie's phone and approaches you three, you insert your cock in Taeyeon's ass. You know it's going to be a tough task, but out of all the countless DPs Taeyeon has experienced, you'll make sure this is her best.

"Please put that fucking big dick in my ass; stretch me wide open," Taeyeon tells you. As Karina starts to film it, Taeyeon is already falling on her knees. You go slow, but make sure to fuck her ass balls deep from the start as your sack hits your friend's cock, stretching her pussy. Taeyeon loved how you hit her in the right spots from the beginning. Truth be told, while being an anchor man has its advantages, being the alpha dog of a DP will always be the preferred option.

"Fuck, you guys are stretching me so hard; fucking make me your tiny little fucking slut, getting those fucking big dicks inside my tiny fucking holes. Fucking me in front of my dongsaeng," Taeyeon says as Karina moves around you guys and starts filming both of your cocks pumping inside Taeyeon's stretched holes. Karina feels amazed: "I need to throw a birthday party just like unnie's," she thinks.

"Oh Gosh. Rina, are you filming this?" Taeyeon asks her, enjoying getting stuffed by both of your cocks to the fullest, especially at how you're mounting her like a raging bull. "Yes, unnie, it's so fucking hot," she tells Taeyeon. "I think I'm in paradise now; these cocks stretch me so weel, ahhhhh." Taeyeon continues. "Good girl, taking all that fucking dick deep in her holes," you tell her.

"AHHHHHHHH. OH. MY. GOD. THAT'S SO MUCH COCK!" Taeyeon screams as your bull pumps her intensely. Besides filming, Karina now reaches under her new lover's cock, caressing it as he stuffs it in Taeyeon's pussy. Taeyeon wraps her hands around your feet as you put all your strength into destroying her asshole, topping her like she's your personal bitch. "Fuck you guys make me feel so good," she says as you pick up the pace, leading the charge more and more as the dominant alpha while your friend lies idle with Karina jerking him off.

"Slut enjoying it a lot, aren't you, Taengoo?" you ask, using her nickname. "Fuck," is how she answers; you don't need to ask anything else. Karina keeps filming both cocks pumping her unnie's pair of fuckholes, fingering herself to the scene. "You guys are gonna make me explode with those two fucking big dicks," Taeyeon continues as her holes start to queef, your balls colliding with your friend's shaft as he pushes his cock up her cunt and you push yours deep in her ass.

Taeyeon is just a stuffed moaning whore now, as the two cocks work her cunt and anus in perfect sync, hitting deep inside her at the same time. You take Taeyeon by surprise, fucking her ass now at full speed as revenge for her making you feel jealous a while ago, showing her who the boss is. "Give it to her," your friend tells you as Taeyeon starts to call for God more than she ever did—in fact, every time you hit deep in her asshole.

Your friend gets some extra motivation from Taeyeon's screams, pushing up her pussy as well. Now that's all that's left for her, screaming at each pump of both cocks deep inside her fuckholes until she cums. Taeyeon pleads to God more than 100 times, but her prayers go unanswered. The only thing she gets is your raging boner stuffing her even harder, making you groan as you get close to cum. Karina registers everything while wishing to get fucked like that. "Rina, you like watching your unnie get treated like a dirty little slut?" Taeyeon asks her.

"Of course," Karina answers as she zooms her phone close to the action. Taeyeon's holes barely appear now, fully stuffed with cock. "AH. AH. AH. AH. AH." Taeyeon rapdily screams as both cocks don't stop stretching her out, yours leading the charge. "OH, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, HOLY SHIT," she continues, her body now completely sweaty while her eyes haven't seen any light for many minutes.

You slow down and enjoy Taeyeon's begging. The independent woman turned into a screaming slut for cock. "Rina, are you filming?" is all she can ask. "Yeah," Karina responds. "I've got a great angle; I think you're gonna enjoy it," she says as Taeyeon lets out yet another moan and creams all over those cocks, while your friend kisses her neck and licks her sweat. "You boys destroy my holes so fucking good," Taeyeon says, her face turning red.

"I want both of you guys to cum on my face and blow those fucking birthday candles all over it," she says. "Is that what you want?" you ask her. "Yes, please," she answers. 

You guys pull out of Taeyeon, jerking your big cocks while she gets on her knees; her little body does not even get past your legs. "Yes, I want it," Taeyeon unleashes her rarely seen aegyo. "Rina I want you to film it," Taeyeon says as she puts her hands on both men's legs. Karina has a great view from the phone's lens, and with Taeyeon's little body surrounded by both cocks from such big guys, she can only record them from their torso down. Taeyeon's skin and especially her bush glow under the camera's lens as well.

"And then I want you to cum kiss me after," Taeyeon says, to which Karina reacts with her biggest smile of the day, which Taeyeon follows with one of her own, never losing sight of the two big cocks jerking off for her. "Are you guys ready to cum on my face and have my hot friend cum swap with me?" Taeyeon asks. Both of you start singing happy birthday to her as you guys get closer.

"I want every last drop," Taeyeon says just as you guys finish singing. As soon as she says those words, your friend is the first to cover her face, with Taeyeon scooping the cum that doesn't hit it with her bare hands. "Yes, perfect," she says. "Ah, fuck," your friend groans as she drains his balls to the fullest.

You're the next in line. Taeyeon's left cheek is already fully covered in semen as your friend slaps his cock in her face. "Thank you for such a good gift," she praises him and even rubs his tip on her eye, bringing back that feeling of jealousy in you. "Rina is gonna love this," she says, already aware of her friend's burning desire for your friend's cock.

"Ready to cum now?" Taeyeon sexily asks you. The load you drop on her is so sudden that she opens her mouth gleefully in happiness, watching as it reaches all the way down her chest, scooping what drops down and rubbing on it too. The next load hit her right cheek, as her face is now fully covered in cum, and you're also completely drained.

"You guys were so fucking good to me today; thank you for the best party ever," Taeyeon says, grabbing your friends already deflating cock while sucking your while still hard and then taking turns at giving both tips a few kisses.

"Take the camera and let Rina come here," Taeyeon tells you. Karina is extremely happy as she licks her unnie's cum-covered face, tasting it like the cream on top of a birthday cake. Taeyeon drops the cum in her mouth into Karina's, licking what spills into her face. "That's so hot, I love it," she says, looking at you. "Next time, it's going to be your face all covered in cum," Taeyeon tells Karina, who laughs, hoping that comes soon enough.

As you film the girls kissing each other, one final idea comes to Taeyeon's mind. "I can't go home all sweaty and full of cum; can you guys clean me before we leave?" she asks. "Sure, let's take a shower," you two say. "Yes, but not the kind of shower you guys are thinking," Taeyeon says.

"What kind?" They ask. "I want those cocks peeing all over me. I know you guys have a lot in the tank; after all, it's how you clean those pipes after so much cum, isn't it?" she says.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, never thinking that Taeyeon would ask for a golden shower. She never had before over all those years, but it's her birthday, and she wanted something a little more outside the box. "Stay there and film all of it, Rina," she says. "I want your friend to clean my body with his piss while you clear my throat as I get ready for tomorrow," she orders.

You guys oblige, as your friend makes sure to piss all over her body, giving her torso, boobs, face, and even her bush some cleaning. Meanwhile, your hot piss goes all into Taeyeon's throat. Not gonna lie, you love turning the throat that has sung some of Korea's biggest hits into your personal urinal.

"Amazing," Taeyeon says as you two run out of piss. She gargles yours in her mouth and then drinks it. "Thanks for such a great birthday party. You and your buddy, Karina, all did amazing today. I hope we'll have many more meetings in the future." Taeyeon gives a brief speech as she goes towards Karina and your friend first. "I think you guys should spend the night together, as long as you didn't schedule anything with your boyfriend, right, Rina?" she asks.

"No, unnie, I don't have anything tonight," Karina says. "Then fine, just watch for the paparazzi. They are always lurking. I can take you guys to my apartment if you want," she says. "Sure, unnie," Karina tells her as they get a hot, spicy shower together and minutes later leave the building.

Now it's just you and Taeyeon in the warehouse, both still naked. "You blew me away today. I loved how you felt so jealous when I gave your friend lots of attention. You really don't want to lose your favorite noona, don't you?" she asked. "Never," you said. "Then let's go to your house and enjoy a romantic night," she continued.

As you two have some post-sex fun in the warehouse's shower and get ready to leave it, Taeyeon gets in her car and heads towards your house for dinner. It was always her policy to leave in separate cars from her partner since the day she got caught dating in one. But before she did so, she said those final words:

"I can't wait to know what you're going to prepare for my 40th birthday." Yes, she was already thinking of it that far ahead.

Today, I'm starting a new series called Legends. This series is about some of the most iconic female idols and will feature longer stories with a lot of sex, that, depending on the idol, can be very passionate or very extreme. To feature on this series, the idol must be at least 30 years old and have some iconic moments that are entrenched into k-pop's lore. The stories will all take place around their birthdays, with each idol getting a special kind of celebration.

For this year, I'll take on idols born in 1989 and 1994 (so those who turn either 35 or 30 years old this year). Taeyeon, who turned 35 four days ago, was my choice to start it, featuring her in a DP foursome alongside Karina (who could very likely be herself a future legend) with a very nasty ending. Besides Taeyeon, there are other 3 idols I have in mind for this series in 2024: Suzy, Krystal (who turn 30) and Taeyeon's groupmate Yuri (who also turns 35).

[hyun0o]

Competition For You

[G!P Step-sis Yu Jimin & Kim Minjeong x Fem! Reader]

(OMEGA VERSE)

Summary: Your alpha step sisters that were crushing on you ever since the day you've met, are getting too hard from your pheromones in heat, so they decided they'd finally fuck you out of your senses to solve all of your problems ;)

WC: 3k words

(°=^)

6:01 PM

"Want us to help?"

Never in the past 9 months would you ever expect your two older step-sisters; Jimin and Minjeong who are Alphas, to ever say those words when you're in heat, all helpless in bed with trembling legs under the duvet covers. Was your scent that strong to the point where they could smell it from outside your room? What if they got a rut because of you? The guilt ate you up like a virus, and the hot tingling feeling inside of every part of your body wasn't helping you one bit.

All of this started 9 months ago, your mother remarried to a new wealthy man, wanting a new life from the troubles in her past marriage, but with the new man; there was his two daughters. The taller one that seemed to be older than you, her black jet hair was down on her shoulders to her back, her cold eyes softening while looking at you with a subtle surprised expression. While the shorter one with shoulder length hair checked you out, eyes going up and down with an amused expression. You felt slightly embarrassed, they were rich and hot!? Fuck you felt like you didn't belong, especially since the two sisters were clearly full blooded alphas, you could smell their strong furious scent a mile away. They didn't want to come and have a stupid family meeting but their thoughts immediately changed as they saw you for the first time. The newly married couple smiled in excitement, wanting for their daughters to get along like they always hoped. Your step-father cleared his throat and introduced his daughters to you.

"Y/n, these are my daughters, Jimin and Minjeong. They're a little older than you but I'm sure you three will get along!" He said to you with a large smile, tone evidently happy and excited. You simply nodded while looking down, avoiding eye contact as you were still feeling anxious from the intense stares by your step sisters. The tall man noticed and coughed, changing his tone. "Girls, this is Y/n, I'm hoping for you oldest to treat her with hospitality and kindness." His face looking serious, like hinting that they shouldn't mess with his 'warning' like statement. They hummed in unison, their eyes not leaving you. Your mom just bowed at the two young girls and tapped the mans shoulders, signaling for him and her to leave and let you three get to know each other more freely. So with that, the two left the large living room, the thick tension deafening your ears.

"Well... hello then step sister. My name is Minjeong, as my father said but you can call me Winter!" She introduced herself with a big smile, her hands on your shoulders for support. Surprise, you nodded flustered from how close she was from you face. 'So if she's Minjeong, the taller girl behind her must be Jimin' you thought to yourself while looking at the feline girl, noticing her eyebrows slightly furrowing at her sister. She came closer to the both of you and placed her hand on Minjeongs shoulder while side eyeing her coldly.

"And that makes me Jimin, you can call me Karina" Her voice deep and shallow, comparing the two, you could already tell who was older from their opposite demeanors. But you kept your mouth shut, assuming something can be deadly. Minjeong scoffed at her and pulled you closer, intertwining her arms around your neck. "How cold rina! Didn't you hear what Dad said? He said treat her with hospitality and kindness!" You wanted to die right then and there, you were sure the blush on your face was visible, almost making you look like a tomato and Minjeongs scent was so strong it started to make your mind go blank. You looked at Jimin, her face filled with annoyance, she noticed your stare and looked back at you, her expression contorting and going soft.

With a sigh she apologized and held your hand, slightly pulling you away from Minjeong. "Sorry for my rudeness, this is just how I greet people. I hope you didn't take it the wrong way." This time, Minjeong was the one who's pissed, she rolled her eyes and gently pulled you back. "Hm, I didn't know you were capable of apologies, is our new little sister an exception or do you just not want to look bad?" She asked with a sly grin, intentions clear that she wants to make Jimin look like a horrible person. You heard a low growl from the taller girl, coming closer to Minjeong with a sharp glare.

-

With that the competition of winning you over started the day they saw you. From the small things of quick physical touch, flirtatious remarks trying to seduce you, and strong stares when you're wearing something that's semi revealing or just hugging your curves. For them, your curves were perfect, how could they not stare? And of course, some days your two older step-sisters would race each other on asking you if they could sleep in your room, for some stupid reasons and which would lead to them glaring at each other and basically throwing insults until you tell them that they both can sleep with you for the night. The only rule was no snoring and funny business while you were asleep, you cherished your rest and you don't like getting waked up in the middle of the night. This was their chance to snuggle on to you and smell your precious scent, stating that they feel cold even though the duvet covers are warm and thick protecting them to any freezing temperatures.

You just let them do whatever they want with you, you can't just forget that they're still older than you and you still want to please them. As time went on Jimin decided to cut her hair to a short wolf cut, you thought that she was just feeling bored of her long hair but the truth is she over heard you in your room talking to your friends, stating that you find short hair on girls are attractive. She's that down bad for you. While Minjeong decided to grow her hair out, wanting for you to braid your hair into each others since you mother said that you loved doing that in the past. If simps were people, these two were its embodiment.

Now back to the present where you are currently going insane, not knowing what to do while your mind was spinning and going in and out of reality. Warm tears started to form in your eyes as you felt pressure, you loved them but you were just too scared! Whimpers were heard outside the room, making the two older girls worry, they agreed and decided to finally help you and maybe confess their love to you. As if it wasn't already obvious.

"Y/n... We're coming in, we don't want you to keep hurting." Jimin said as she unlocked the door, a gust of pheromones hitting them making their troubles in their boxers get worse. You lie on your bed trembling while clutching on to the fabrics if the sheets, trying to hold on to something.

"aw poor baby" Minjeong cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed pulling your body up gently wanting to kiss you, she held back, feeling scared that you'll reject it. Your tears rolled down your cheeks, feeling so vulnerable and guilty, you hated stealing their attention, you never felt worthy of their worry. Jimin went behind you and hugged you waist, going down on the crook of your neck and inhaled aggressively, hands trying not to give in to the temptation of touching and embracing your beautiful body.

"Baby... You shouldn't be so shy about these types of things. Please let us help you" She whispered all so softly to your sensitive ears, your pussy clenched in nothing as her deep voice made you even more needy. Whining as the tears kept rolling down your soft cheeks, Minjeong immediately kissed them dry as her knee got in between your shaking legs, making you feel some friction. You moaned out so lewdly, they both cursed under their breath with their cocks wanting to get inside of you and just fuck you until they're dry. "Unnie please... mhm" Without even realizing it, you started to spread your legs for Minjeong, feeling so hopelessly weak with your heart and body basically screaming for the touch of your older sisters. Minjeong and Jimins head perked up with excitement of you finally opening up, Jimins hands slowly roamed around your body while trying to rub her rock hard cock on your back hoping to get some tension. She cupped you beautiful breast with her other hand on your wet pussy, fingers gently circling on your clit. Fuck she couldn't wait anymore, she wanted to feel you and hear you scream her name.

Minjeong kissed your cheeks and slowly went down to your neck, feeling so happy that she can touch you like she have always wanted! "Oh god... I've wanted to kiss you and cherish you my princess, let us help you okay?" You moaned and shook your head in agreement, the two older girls started to undress you, night gown getting thrown out to the floor, you weren't wearing a bra and so they got to kiss your wonderful breasts with full passion like they've always wanted. They were basically eating every part of your body!! Being so excited and sometimes rough with you, they needed you so bad.

You completely gave into Jimins hold and pulled Minjeong closer to you, their warmth wrapping around your body. "Please touch me unnie, I need you both" A switch flicked in their head, with those simple words, they immediately went into breeding mode. Jimin nipped on your neck while roughly kneading your breasts with urgency, like this was the last time she'd be able to feel you. But you won't let that happen to your precious unnies. "Hm... You smell so good baby... You always do" Jimin complimented, moaning at her praise you called out to her, meeting her sharp gaze in a trance and kisses her passionately, placing your hand on the back of her neck. Minjeong however focused on your wet pussy, spreading your legs wider and going down on your throbbing cunt, she inhaled your addicting scent making you moan loud in Jimins mouth. "So fucking good fuck..." Minjeong growled, impatiently taking your panties off and ate your slippery cunt like there was no tomorrow. With your two unnies giving your sensitive body attention while the sun was setting, it was magical setting. Jimin kept praising you, whispering how good you were taking Minjeong, how cute you were when you were getting pleasured, and asking you questions that will lead to you answering in a soft whine, all while her finger tips wers drawing on your smooth stomach and other hand still on your soft breasts.

"My baby sister, do you like getting fucked like this? Do you want Rina-unnies cock?" She cooed, her mischievous smirk showed how much she enjoyed watching you getting fucked. Your mouth trembled, this was all so new to you, you'd just normally take pills to get through your heat but your mom forgot to buy you new ones for this month and so you only got informed during your heat. "Y-yes...yes I want u-unnies co- A-ah!" You tried to answer but failed due to Minjeongs wonderful tongue entering inside your tight hole, her eyes fixated on you. Your taste was making her go wild, you were far too much addicting! With the overwhelming pleasure coming to you, your legs tighten around Minjeongs head hoping to get some kind of support. But with the puppy like girls needs in tasting all of you and making you cum for her hard, she placed her hands on your inner thighs and pushed them on the bed leaving her more space for your sensitive pussy. She thrusted her tongue in and out of you while Jimin circled her fingers on your clit making you jolt.

"Unnie!- ah please... I'm close!" You screamed as your stomach started to bubble up in pleasure, you arched your back getting ready to cum, Jimin made you face her and roughly kiss you, moaning into her mouth while her tongue fought with yours. Minjeong was determined to make you cum, she went faster, and so did Jimin. Finally having the chance to release, you came hard with strings of moans and whines following, body shaking with your hips bucking onto winters mouth. Minjeong sat up kissed you deeply, passion in her tongue to make you taste yourself "Good job baby, mind to have one more, just for me?" Jimin kissed your ears and waited for your answer with loving eyes. You can't help but submit to them, your pussy was clenching on nothing and the need of getting filled up by your step-sisters just fueled the fire inside of you.

"Y-yes unnie" You whispered, their cocks were suffocating in their pants. Seeing and hearing you break from such orgasm left their member impatient. Switching their positions, Jimin positioned herself in between your legs and brought her huge cock out, smirking at the cute sight of you with tears and a hint of blush on your beautiful face. Minjeong made you go on all fours, facing her with her cock leaking with pre cum inches close to your face. You basically drooled at the wonderful sight, panting, you sticked your tongue out wanting to taste Minjeongs large dick. She chuckled with a pleased smile,

"Cutie baby, are you excited? You don't know how long we've waited for this moment!" Minjeong said, bawling your hair up and slowly inching you forward to her cock, you licked her cute tip, moaning at her taste. While Jimin placed her hand on your back as the other to your hip, getting ready to ram into you, "Hm... We ached for you Y/n, days on days fucking ourselves with the thought of you being all ours" Jimin entered your dripping wet cunt, slowly stretching you out. Her cock felt so good in you! You could basically feel her veins throbbing in your pussy. She thrusted slow but so hard, emphasizing on the skin on skin lewd sound with your gagged moan as Minjeong rammed her cock into the back of your throat. The two older sisters were too impatient to feel you!

With their incredible rhythm, the two of them fucked both of your holes while moaning and cursing, as their wish finally came true, Jimin went closer to your back and kissed the back of your neck, trailing up to your sensitive ear, "S-so fucking good baby... Fuck I want to impregnate you so bad..." The older girl growled while fastening her thrusting pace, your g-spot getting abused hard while Minjeong is basically using you as a flesh light not letting you breath properly. "Hm... Our baby sister is so cute taking the both of us so good, I think she deserves our w-wonderful seed in her holes right Jiminnie?" Minjeong stuttered with the feeling of your mouth was making her brain go insane, coming close to her release. Jimin chuckled as she gripped your hips harder, sitting up and fucking you with hard and fast thrusts making you choke with your saliva drooling on the sides of your mouth. "Fuck... Fuck.. fuck!!" Jimin grunted as she was also close, determined to fill you up with her warm and thick cum. While Minjeongs hips started to quicken her pace as she closed her eyes, throwing her head back while moaning your name over and over again.

Tears fell on your soft and puffy cheeks, you were so close, you wanted the feeling of your step sisters cum in you over and over again! But the feeling was all too much for the three of you, Jimin growled and finally came in your pussy as Minjeong fed her cum to you and pulled out, her semen going directly on your face and on to your breasts. The sight of you were too much! They couldn't get enough of you, immediately after that euphoric sex they wen on with different positions with you, making you wonder how much of a high sex drive and stamina they have!

As Minjeong marked your smooth neck, she growled as she was finally feeling your wonderful tight pussy. Jimin making out with you while you gave her a handjob, running out of breath you pulled away. She can't help but blush at your cute face, doe eyes glistening with tears with your rosey lips slightly apart, both of your tits making contact as Minjeong was fucking you from behind.

"U-unnie I'm close!" You screamed, the familiar feeling in your stomach forming, Minjeongs thrusts changed as her pace was felt with urgency to make you come. "Good girl, cum baby. Make us proud" The raven girl said as she kissed your nose, with one last thrust you and Minjeong shivered in pleasure, your juices squirted as she completely came inside you, while you felt warm cum running down on your hand, Jimin came as well, with soft moans and trembling hip making you stop from stroking her thick cock, Minjeong is still in you, being a plug for her and Jimins cum inside of your cunt. Somehow it made you feel a sense of comfort.

Jimin showered you with kisses, praising you while Minjeong licked your ear and whispered thank you's for making her cum so good. You felt warm with their embrace! Happy tears forming in your eyes, you tried to hide them by hiding in the crook of Jimins neck but the two of them immediately notices and asks what's the matter.

"Were we too rough baby?"

"Are your hurting? Tell us my love"

Their concern made you feel so loved, shaking your head, you both smiled at them and stopped hiding,

"I felt nothing but happiness and pleasure, thank you for helping me unnies, I love you so much" You confessed with the tears flowing down, their eyes widened as they smiled so wide, they've been waiting for those words for months!!

"We love you too Y/n" They both said in unison kissing your cheeks and marking your nape. With your two older step sisters comfort you felt happy and safe, hoping for the three of you to make more memories together <3

...

"Mhm... Baby can you take us both inside of you?"

Maybe a little too soon for new memories (–=–'')

(°=°)

This took me too long!! Sorry for no updates guys it's been a hell of a month lol, but now I can finish up requests! I'm also planning to publish another poly smut, I hope you guys can wait!!

- (^=^)

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Already Yours (Part 1)

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, arranged marriage

TYPE: Two Shot

Inspired by: urs-NIKI

A/N: i received several arranged marriage request for the past two years, but it felt too different to what i usually wrote. since it's the start of a new year and the best time to try something new...here you gooooo! a special thank you to @neoplatinum! i re-read several of her works to gain some inspiration for this one. highly recommend everyone checking out her posts :)

The heavy doors swung open, slamming against the wall with a resounding crash that echoed through the room. A tall, willowy figure dressed in a professional tan suit strode toward you, the sharp click of her heels punctuating the silence as she crossed the pristine marble floors. Behind her, two broad-shouldered bodyguards trailed in silence, their faces impassive. In contrast, her long black hair flowed behind her, each step full of purpose and anger. Scratch that. Lady Jimin was seething, her usually soft features now hard with barely contained anger.

“What is this, father?” Jimin addressed the old duke beside you, completely ignoring your presence.

Duke Yoo coughed, a nervous, helpless sound that filled the room. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fidgeted, clearly at a loss for words.

Before he could find his voice, his son stepped forward, his demeanor calm and predatory.

“Pleasant surprise seeing you here, Jimin.” Heesung’s smile was too smooth, his voice disgustingly sweet.

“Not much of a surprise, since this is the signing of my marriage certificate.” Jimin snapped, her eyes burning with a fire so intense it felt like she could burn the entire Y/LN enterprise building to the ground.

Your father, ever the one to involve himself in drama, couldn’t resist. “Ah, Lady Jimin. It's nice to finally meet my my future daughter-in-law.”

He moved toward her, arms wide, offering a false sense of warmth.

“There’s no way I’m getting tangled in your slimy business ventures, Y/LN.” Jimin spat, laced with pure contempt.

The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. The Duke shot a quick, nervous glance at your father’s impassive expression, sweat dripping down his chin now.

“I’m so sorry, Y/LN-nim.” The Duke hurriedly walked over to your father’s side.

“We didn’t have time to explain the agreement to Jimin. Let us talk to her first.”

“It seems she’s lacking in manners.” your father’s voice dropped several octaves, low and dangerous. “Perhaps we should address this before we finalize anything.”

Jimin’s anger flared, but it was quickly replaced by something darker—fear. As she caught sight of the cruel smile spreading across your father’s face, a cold shiver ran down her spine. The man was notorious for his ruthlessness, a cold, calculating figure who had controlled the country’s economy for decades. His power wasn’t just in his wealth, it was in his ability to make people tremble.

Even her bodyguards hesitated, inching closer to her but unsure whether to act.

That’s when you stepped forward, your silence broken at last.

You moved in front of your father, your hand gripping his arm and pulling him toward the desk. The weight of the room seemed to shift as your presence took control.

“Enough, father.” Your voice was soft, but unwavering, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Let’s just finish this.”

Without another word, you reached for the inkstand, pressing your thumb into the dark ink and leaving a red fingerprint on the flimsy paper.

You lifted your gaze, locking eyes with Jimin, expressionless.

Jimin let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers threading through her hair as she surrendered herself to the inevitable. She walked over and pressed her own delicate fingers to the paper, leaving a red mark beside yours. The blood-red ink seemed to mock her, a symbol of fate she could neither escape nor control.

“Good.” Heesung’s voice sliced through the silence, “Let’s let the lovebirds go and we can start talking business.”

.

.

.

.

The banquet buzzed with noise, of laughter, chatter, and clinking glasses. Friends, business partners, and classmates gathered, their faces painted with polite smiles and hidden agendas. Even the royal family was here to watch you and Jimin repeat the fake vows, marking as the wedding of the year.

The media waited outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wedding, to catch a glimpse of you and Jimin. After all, neither of you came from unknown backgrounds. Both of you were heirs to two of the most powerful families in the country. The cameras, the whispers...it was impossible to escape the spotlight, even if the marriage was nothing more than a strategic alliance disguised as a union.

Jimin, the eldest daughter from House Yoo of Luthraine, stood at the center of it all. Her family ruled the country’s banking, their influence far-reaching. The duke, her father, was weak and easily swayed. His wife, however, had made up for it with her sharp mind—until her untimely death left House Yoo in shambles, and its future in the hands of Heesung, her son. A reckless choice that led to disaster. Jimin had stepped up to manage the family’s failing finances as soon as she turned 18. Clever, soft-hearted, and breathtakingly beautiful, Yoo Jimin was someone everyone admired.

Then there was you.

The sole heir to Y/LN Enterprise, the largest multinational conglomerate in investment banking and real estate. You were known for your reserved demeanor, your sharp mind, and your ability to observe everything with calculating precision. Unlike your father, who was feared for his temper and ruthless business tactics, you operated quietly, out of the spotlight. Most people found you distant, cold even, but you never played the villain. You simply didn't care for the politics of the game.

Despite growing up in the same world, you and Jimin had never really connected.

You’d gone to the same prestigious, ridiculously overpriced private schools, but Jimin had always been surrounded by a crowd, adored by everyone. You, however, had preferred to keep to yourself, always in the background, never truly seen, yet always watching.

“What’s the bride doing here drinking alone?” A warm voice interrupted your thoughts, bringing a grin to your face.

“You should be celebrating with your wife for a happy marriage.”

“If that’s what you expect from an arranged marriage,” you laughed, sloshing the champagne in your glass, “then you’ve got it all wrong, Hwang.”

Yeji, your best friend and business partner, flopped down beside you. She smoothed out her lavender dress and white wool jacket with practiced grace. It was strange to see her in a dress, usually preferring professional suits for work.

“You look hot. Very lady-like,” you teased, earning a middle finger from her.

“Shut up, Y/LN.” She sniffed, then waved over a server to order a beer, an odd contrast to how she was dressed. “Besides, you’re the one who chose these stupid lavender dresses for the bridesmaids.”

“Jimin, not me.” You shrugged, your head spinning from the alcohol. “I didn’t attend any of the marriage meetings.”

Your gaze drifted across the room, landing on the raven-haired girl as she danced with her friends, smiling effortlessly, her usual scowl replaced with something more relaxed.

“Seriously?” Yeji’s voice was laced with disappointment.

“I didn’t expect you to let your partner do all the work. What happened to chivalry?”

“Honestly, Jimin looks like she’ll bite my head off every time I try to talk to her. So I thought I’d just let her decide.” You drained your glass, the words slipping out.

“I kind of ruined her chance for love, so the least I can do is let her have this.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Yeji’s tone softened. “You were trying to help her. I think you should just give this marriage a chance.”

You shook your head stubbornly, ordering another drink. Yeji’s concerned gaze bore into you, but you ignored it. This was your pity party, and you were the guest of honor.

“I’m planning on keeping my distance,” you said, wobbling off the stool and grabbing your fresh glass.

“And finding a way to get her out of this mess.”

Yeji rushed to steady you, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace. Her heart ached for you, but this was beyond anyone’s control.

“Just try, Y/N,” she said gently, before muttering, “Jesus, you’re drunk.”

She managed to straighten you up, her hands resting on your shoulders as she faced you.

“Besides, didn’t you have a crush on her in high school?” Yeji added, her voice thoughtful as she stood before you.

“Shut up, Yeji,” you hissed, suddenly sober, your eyes flicking to something—or rather, someone—behind her.

“I mean, you liked her for, like, three years? Four?” Yeji rambled on, oblivious to the fear flashing in your eyes.

“Yeji. Yeji. Yeji.”

“What?” Yeji followed your gaze, then stumbled back in shock.

Jimin stood with another girl, her face twisted in something you couldn’t quite comprehend, while the girl beside her shot Yeji a playful grin.

“Ah… Lady Jimin,” Yeji quickly bowed, her face burning with embarrassment. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Yeji. Hwang Yeji.”

Jimin gave a curt nod, waving her off dismissively. “Just Jimin is fine. This is Ryujin, from the House of Shin.”

Jimin’s voice softened as she turned to you. “Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

You barely had time to compose yourself before you answered, “Yes.”

Without another word, Jimin walked off, expecting you to follow.

As you passed, you heard Ryujin's voice, teasing, “So… beer for the pretty lady? That’s special. I like special.”

The back door of the banquet hall creaked open as Jimin led you down a deserted hallway, pulling you into an empty room. You glanced over her, taking in the sight of her ivory lace wedding gown—still pristine, despite everything.

Yoo Jimin was undeniably beautiful, with soft brown eyes full of emotion, a delicate nose, and full pink lips. A cute mole on the corner of her mouth that would lift whenever she smiled. But ever since that fateful event two months ago, her face was set in a permanent frown, her brows furrowed in frustration. You wanted to reach out, smooth away the crease between them, but you stopped yourself.

“You’re drunk.” Jimin said, her voice a little softer as she surveyed your ruffled state.

“A bit.” you admitted, running a hand down your dress to smooth the creases.

She sighed, her expression softening. Then, she moved closer, adjusting the straps of your dress. The touch of her fingers against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through you. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You froze, then pulled away, putting more distance between you. Hurt flickered in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with annoyance.

“What did you want to talk about, Jimin?” you asked, trying to sound composed.

Jimin’s frown deepened as she met your gaze.

“I wanted to clarify a few things.” she said, her voice more subdued than before.

“I’ve been thinking about this marriage.”

You remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I never wanted this,” she continued, her words slow and deliberate. “I never wanted to marry you. I had no choice. I loathe your family—I know what your father’s been doing all these years—but my hands are tied. I just wanted you to know that before you get any wrong ideas.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, each one a jagged knife twisting in your chest. You knew how she felt, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

You forced a calm expression, masking the ache inside. “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t choose this either,” you said, your voice cool.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to end this marriage soon.”

Jimin nodded, her expression softening for a second. “Good. Now let’s play the part of a happy newlywed.”

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back toward the banquet hall, both of you walking side by side, smiles on your faces. Neither one of them reached your eyes.

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Living with you was unexpectedly easy.

You were quiet, meticulous to the point of being a neat freak, and even more of a workaholic than she was, rarely coming home before midnight. In the three months since your marriage, you hadn’t spent much time together. Yet, Jimin found herself looking forward to mornings. Brief moments where you prepared breakfast for both of you and shared a table. Most of the conversation came from her, while you listened quietly. You made it clear her words mattered, even if you rarely offered anything in return.

But she couldn’t shake the sense that she was speaking into a void. You were polite and attentive, yet you remained distant, never letting her glimpse beyond the surface.

She often snuck in a few glances at you while you drove her to work, admiring your side profile. She liked the sharpness of your cat-like eyes, always attentive to what she was saying, and the slight curve of your full lips whenever she said something funny. You were beautiful in an understated way, the kind of beauty that lingered in her mind.

Maybe marriage with you wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. But that didn’t stop her from craving something more.

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Work had been unusually slow lately. Ever since her marriage to you, the problems plaguing the bank branches under House Yoo of Luthraine had mysteriously disappeared. Gone were the endless debt, trade misconduct, and countless scandals she’d spent months trying to resolve. Her brother was off doing God knows what, leaving her to manage everything else on her own. She could only hope he wasn’t causing more trouble...the kind that had landed her in this marriage in the first place.

Sighing, Jimin took off her thin-framed silver glasses and rubbed her eyes, signaling the rest of the board that the morning meeting was over. The meeting room gradually emptied, leaving the young royalty in solitude, save for Ryujin, casually leaning in the leather chair next to her with a sly grin.

“Yoo Jimin, tired of work? I can’t believe it.” The young duchess teased, “Did you and Y/N stay up too late doing the dirty?”

Jimin choked on her coffee, nearly spilling the dark liquid on her crisp blouse.

“What? No,” she sputtered, her face reddening at the thought. “I’ve just been having trouble sleeping.”

Ryujin raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Still hate her?”

“I don’t hate her,” Jimin muttered, her voice quieter now. “I never hated her. Just her family.”

“Well, you’re stuck with her now. Might as well make it work. Maybe you should try acutally talking to her.”

“We do talk,” Jimin countered defensively. “It’s just... one-sided. I’m the one doing all the sharing. She never talks about herself. It’s like trying to have a conversation with an AI.”

Ryujin held back a laugh, “well to be fair, you do talk a lot, Jimin.”

Jimin shot her a sharp glare. “I do not.”

Ryujin’s grin only widened. “Sure. And she’s always working late because she just loves the office, right? Has nothing to do with cleaning up your brother’s mess?”

“What mess?”

“Wait, she didn’t tell you?” Ryujin frowned. “Yeji mentioned they’ve been working overtime to cover up some of the debt Heesung left from one of your family branches. That was part of the marriage deal.”

Jimin slumped back in her seat, stunned. She knew her brother had contributed to the downfall of her family-led banks, but he’d kept the full scope of it hidden. She had assumed the marriage proposal was purely for your family’s access to her network and land holdings, not their debt.

You were the reason why her family debts were gone.

Ryujin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “C’mon, let’s visit Y/LN Enterprise after work. I’ll drive.”

Jimin frowned, confused. “Why?”

“The way to the heart is through the stomach,” Ryujin said with a grin. “And I also want to see my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Well, not yet. But I’m getting there,” Ryujin laughed, her confidence unwavering.

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“What kind of food does she like?” Ryujin asked, backing her car out of the parking lot.

“I have no idea,” Jimin admitted reluctantly.

“Seriously?” Ryujin shot her an exasperated look, sighing in defeat. “Let me ask Yeji.”

This marriage was proving to be a tough case to crack.

Twenty minutes later, Jimin found herself standing in front of your office door, a box of jjajangmyeon in her hands. Ryujin had dropped her off with a giggle before driving away, Yeji seated beside her, cheeks dusted pink.

Jimin’s heart twisted with a pang of envy as she watched her friend. She wanted that kind of love, as much as she hated admitting it to herself.

Before she could muster the courage to knock, the door swung open, and you nearly bumped into her, face-first.

“What the f—” You stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening in surprise. “Jimin?”

“Hi.” Her voice was timid, suddenly laced with awkwardness.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your concern obvious in your tone. “Did something happen?”

“No!” She cleared her throat hastily, then raised the box in her hands.

“I brought you dinner. Thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh, I—” Her gesture caught you off guard, your carefully constructed walls crumbling. You were already finding it hard to maintain your distance, and now this small act of care threatened to shatter your resolve completely.

“Thank you,” you said, regaining some composure. “Please, come in.”

You stepped aside, and she walked in, her gaze sweeping across the room.

Jimin took her time studying your office while you dug into the noodles, only now realizing just how hungry you were.

She paused at a photo on your desk, one of you and Yeji at senior prom. In it, Yeji was having the time of her life, while you looked like a drenched cat reluctantly dancing with your friend.

“You look so miserable,” Jimin giggled, her voice teasing as she turned to you.

Your mouth was full of noodles, and you hastily swallowed in an attempt to respond.

“Dancing isn’t exactly my forte,” you admitted, your tone calm, though the tips of your ears betrayed your embarrassment. “But you’re good at that, right? I remember you won prom queen that year.”

Her heart fluttered at your words. So you had been paying attention, even back then—even when Yeji had mentioned you had a crush on someone else in high school.

As she continued her inspection of your office, Jimin noted how bare it was. Aside from the photo with Yeji and a few scattered pens on your desk, there wasn’t much personality in the room. She made a mental note to change that.

When you finally finished eating, an awkward silence settled between the two of you.

“Thank you for the food,” you said again, your voice soft. “It was really good.”

Jimin hummed in acknowledgment, her honey-brown eyes piercing into yours. The intensity of her gaze made you fidget slightly, but you held it nonetheless.

“I know about the debt,” she said finally.

Your eyes widened briefly, but you masked your reaction quickly, choosing your words carefully.

“Sorry for not telling you,” you said, your tone steady, though your fingers twitched nervously against the desk. "I didn't know how."

She shook her head and reached over, her warm, soft hands covering yours. The simple touch sent your heart racing.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice gentle. Her lips curved into a smile, one that you weren’t used to seeing on her usually stoic face.

Your cheeks flushed scarlet, and you cleared your throat in embarrassment. “It’s nothing.”

At your feigned nonchalance, Jimin couldn’t resist teasing you. Maybe you weren’t as robotic as she’d initially thought.

With a mischievous grin, she intertwined her fingers with yours, her thumb drawing slow circles on your palm.

“Can you drive me home?” she asked innocently. “Ryujin drove me here.”

You quickly composed yourself, pulling your hand away and shaking your head as if to dispel the spell she had cast. Something about Yoo Jimin made resisting her nearly impossible, and maintaining your distance was proving to be an uphill battle.

“I can, but I have one more meeting tonight. Can you wait?”

She nodded, her soft smile making it hard to focus.

Just then, the speaker on your desk crackled to life.

“Ms. Y/LN, Ms. Kim is here.”

You pressed the button to respond. “Let her up.”

“There’s a meeting room next to my office,” you told Jimin. “You can wait for me there.”

She nodded again, her smile lingering as she moved toward the door. You couldn’t help but mirror the expression, the corners of your mouth lifting involuntarily.

“I’ll see you in a bit. Good luck with your meeting,” she said warmly, opening the door.

What she didn’t expect, however, was to come face-to-face with one of her flings from the past: Kim Minjeong of Legacy Capital Enterprise.

Jimin froze in the doorway, her breath hitching as recognition struck. Minjeong’s sharp gaze softened, her lips curling into a slow, confident smirk that Jimin had once thought charming but now found unbearably loaded with unspoken memories.

“Jimin.” Minjeong drawled, her voice dripping with smug familiarity. “It’s been a while.”

“Minjeong.” Jimin replied stiffly, her voice strained. Her fingers gripped the doorframe tightly, grounding herself as the weight of the past surged back, enveloping her in the awkwardness of their shared history.

Minjeong’s eyes flicked to the now-empty box of jjajangmyeon in Jimin’s hands, then trailed back up, her smirk deepening. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Late-night visits? How... intimate.”

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat. The insinuation in Minjeong’s tone made her skin crawl, her shoulders stiffening.

“I could say the same about you,” she retorted, her voice sharp but betraying a hint of nervousness.

Minjeong opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, you appeared behind Jimin, your steady presence immediately commanding the room.

“Ms. Kim,” you greeted coolly, your professional demeanor slipping into place. “Shall we?”

Minjeong’s gaze flicked to you briefly, her expression unreadable, before sliding back to Jimin. The smirk didn’t falter, but her eyes sparkled with something almost predatory.

 “Of course.” she said smoothly, stepping into the office.

Jimin stepped aside hastily, her shoulders tight, feeling the weight of Minjeong’s gaze lingering on her as she passed. She silently prayed that Minjeong wouldn’t say anything more, wouldn’t twist the knife any further.

“I’ll see you after the meeting,” you said softly to Jimin, your voice warm despite the neutral expression on your face.

Jimin gave a quick nod, her stomach twisting as you closed the door behind you, sealing her alone with her thoughts.

Inside your office, Minjeong wasted no time in testing your patience.

“You have a lovely wife.” Minjeong remarked, leaning back in her chair as if she owned the room. “You must be very... proud.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, though your tone remained calm. “Jimin’s her own person. I don’t take pride in people like they’re possessions.”

Minjeong’s smirk didn’t waver. “Interesting choice of words.”

The meeting dragged on, but your focus remained sharp, despite the growing frustration bubbling beneath the surface. You didn’t have the luxury of cutting ties with Minjeong, not when your efforts to rebuild Jimin’s family’s branches relied on securing this partnership.

But with Minjeong’s intentions becoming increasingly transparent. She found opportunities to steer the conversation back to Jimin, her admiration thinly veiled beneath casual comments.

“She’s matured a lot.” Minjeong said at one point, her voice almost wistful. “There’s something about her...strong, yet so beautifully delicate.”

Your jaw tightened, but you forced yourself to respond evenly. “She’s always been remarkable.”

Minjeong’s smirk widened, as if she took your words as a challenge.

When the meeting ended, you walked Minjeong out, your tone polite but measured.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Kim.”

She gave you a sly smile before glancing once more at the closed door to the meeting room where Jimin was waiting.

“I’ll be seeing you both soon, I’m sure.”

Her words hung in the air like a warning before she turned on her heel and left.

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You found Jimin in the meeting room, perched on the couch with her phone in hand. She glanced up as you entered, her expression betraying unease, embarrassment, and something else, something she couldn’t quite mask.

“Is she gone?” she asked, her tone wavering, as if she was hiding something.

“She is,” you replied, sitting down across from her. “Who is she?”

Jimin hesitated, her fingers toying with the hem of her sleeve. “Someone I used to... see.” she admitted reluctantly.

Your brow raised slightly. “See, as in date?”

The young royalty nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap. “If you can call it that. It wasn’t serious, and it didn’t end well.”

You hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in your seat. “Well, for what it’s worth, she made it pretty clear she’s still interested in you.”

Jimin’s head shot up, her eyes wide. “She—what?”

You chuckled dryly, trying to cover your jealousy.

“She practically spent the whole meeting weaving you into the conversation. Subtlety isn’t her strong suit.”

Jimin groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe her.”

A silence settled between you before you spoke again, your tone softer this time. “You know, about the whole marriage thing...”

Jimin lowered her hands slowly, looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

“It’s just for appearances,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “If you want to see someone else—Minjeong or anyone else—I’m not going to stop you.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and you continued.

“This arrangement isn’t about controlling you or your choices. You’re free to live your life however you want.”

Jimin stared at you for a moment, her honey-brown eyes searching yours. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place

She hesitated before adding, “The same goes for you, you know. You didn’t exactly choose this either.”

Your chest tightened, but you quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. “Something like that,” you said, lying through your teeth.

You stood, offering her a hand. “Ready to head home?”

Jimin slipped her hand into yours, and as you led her out of the office, the warmth of her touch lingered far longer than it should have.

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Your relationship with Jimin had changed in ways that felt both comforting and unsettling. The walls between you gradually fell, replaced by the kind of easy flow you hadn’t expected. She’d drop by your office for coffee, and linger during breaks, and suddenly it wasn’t just about the arranged situation anymore. It was about two people learning to be around each other, to talk, to laugh, to share moments that made you forget about the circumstances.

She’d visit you at work often, showing up unannounced just to grab coffee or chat. At first, it seemed like a random visit, but the more it happened, the more it became clear that she enjoyed spending time with you. You’d even look forward to her visits, finding comfort in the quiet moments you shared away from the chaos of your daily lives.

Social events became less of a hassle, too. Instead of sitting off to the side or making small talk with people you didn’t care about, Jimin would be there, and the two of you would engage in casual conversations, the kind that made you forget about everything else happening around you.

You were friends, you thought. Genuine friends.

But even in those easy moments, there were signs, small, subtle things that made you pause. You noticed Jimin staring at her phone more often, her thumb flicking over the screen in a way that was hard to miss.

You had a good idea of who it was. Minjeong. It wasn’t like you hadn’t expected this. After all, you’d given Jimin the freedom to see other people. You had told her—no, insisted—that this arrangement wasn’t about control, that she could live her life however she saw fit.

And yet, watching her respond to Minjeong’s texts, the way her face lit up when she’d see a new message, it grated on you in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You weren’t supposed to care.

But you did.

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On your birthday, you could feel the familiar mix of emotions swirling inside you as Jimin walked into the office, dressed in a beautiful flowy dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The soft fabric of the dress seemed to move with her effortlessly, its delicate hue catching the light in a way that made her seem almost ethereal. The way it draped around her waist and flared out just enough to hint at her figure was both graceful and captivating. Her hair, styled in loose waves, framed her face perfectly, soft strands falling gently over her shoulders and glowing under the office lights.

She had this quiet elegance about her, something so effortlessly beautiful that it made your heart ache just by looking at her.

Her eyes, always warm, had this soft, shimmering glow when they met yours, like everything around her faded a little, just so she stood out more. You couldn’t really explain it, but in that moment, it felt like she was the only thing in focus. She wasn’t trying to look perfect—she never had to—but the way she moved, how that dress just clung to her in the right places, it made your head spin.

You couldn’t take your eyes off her. It wasn’t like you wanted to stare, but she made it impossible to do anything else. She wasn’t trying, yet there she was, making everything else blur and all you could think about was how damn beautiful she was.

And in that moment, you thought she came to surprise you for your birthday.

But how silly it was to think that when you never told her your birthday.

Your eyes caught hers, but her smile was different. It was more forced, as though she was conflicted. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it felt like she was already pulling away.

You tried to brush it off, but the question tumbled out before you could stop it.

“You look beautfiul,” you said, your voice casual but your stomach knotting with a strange feeling.

“Going somewhere?”

Jimin hesitated for a split second, a flicker of something passing across her face before she answered. “Yeah, I’m meeting Minjeong for dinner.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water. You had known it was coming. You had prepared yourself for it. But hearing it out loud, so casually, felt different.

“Oh, Minjeong...” you said, trying hard to keep on the mask of calmness that seemed to be slipping the longer you were married to Jimin.

“Have fun.” You couldn’t keep the edge out of your tone, even though you tried to mask it with a smile. “I’ll be out drinking with Yeji later. Should be good.”

Jimin nodded, a slight unease in her expression, but she didn’t press the issue. She just smiled, a little too tightly, and turned to leave.

“I’ll see you later,” she said softly. “I just wanted to check on you first.”

As she walked away, the weight of your own words hit you like a slap. You had told her she could see whoever she wanted. You had given her the space to do so. Yet, the jealousy that twisted in your chest, like you were the one breaking the rules you had set.

Maybe you didn’t have the right to feel this way. Maybe you didn’t even have the right to feel hurt. You had told Jimin she was free to make her own choices, to be with whomever she wanted. And yet, the jealousy remained, simmering under the surface. You wanted to ignore it, to push it away, but it lingered, sharp and insistent.

You had given her the freedom to choose. But you had never thought about how hard it would be to watch her choose someone else.

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It was well past midnight, and you were still at the pub with Yeji, both of you tipsy and getting progressively more sloppy. The karaoke was horrendous, your voices completely out of tune, but neither of you seemed to care. Shots kept coming, and you were taking them like it was a contest, each one making your thoughts blur a little more.

“I don’t get why you don’t just tell her you like her,” Yeji slurred, her voice thick with alcohol as she tried to keep herself upright.

“Tell her you like her, and you wouldn’t be here like this.”

You hiccupped, eyes half-lidded, and tried to focus on her. “You—” you muttered, “you know it’s not that simple.”

“How is it not?” Yeji pointed a finger at you, wobbly, but firm in her opinion.

“You’re married to her. Married. What’s the problem?”

You took another drink, feeling the burn in your throat, and shrugged. “I promised her… promised I’d work on getting a divorce. Promised her on our wedding day.”

Yeji made a face, clearly too drunk to hide her disbelief. “That’s fucking stupid,” she mumbled, staring at you like you were an idiot. “Your father would kill you.”

You sighed, glancing away, the alcohol making it easier to pretend it didn’t bother you. “Yeah, I know. But I’m worried about what happens to her after the divorce.”

“Is that why you’ve been making me do all this overtime with you?” Yeji waved her hand dismissively, clearly trying to piece things together. “Doing global stocks and all that shit?”

“I just want her to be okay,” you muttered, the words slurring slightly. “I want her to have someone who can protect her. Make sure her family ties stay strong.”

“And that person is Minjeong?” Yeji gasped, eyes widening with realization. You didn’t even look up, staring into your glass as you mumbled a response.

“She could be,” you said, taking another shot.

Yeji shook her head, still processing everything through her alcohol fog.

“Have you even asked Jimin if she still wants the damn divorce?”

You shook your head, a little too slowly. “No. She doesn’t know what happens if it does either.”

Yeji slapped you on the head, the impact startling you more than it should’ve.

“Ow,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead and glaring at her.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Yeji muttered, slurring even more now. “Just tell her you like her and don’t get divorced.”

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “I told you. She doesn’t like me like that.”

Giving up, Yeji signaled for another tray of shots, her face set in determination.

“Fine, fine. You’ll get it someday, I guess.”

You downed the next shot, feeling the warmth spread through you, and tried to shake off the uncomfortable tension. At this point, the only thing you could focus on was the next drink, the blur of the night, and the gnawing feeling in your chest that no amount of alcohol would fix.

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Jimin was worried.

You hadn’t picked up your phone ever since she left your office that night, and it was nearly four in the morning. The unease in her chest only deepened as the minutes passed without a word from you.

Her date with Minjeong had ended up being a disaster. The evening had been an attempt to forget you, a futile one at that. Minjeong had asked Jimin out, and despite her hesitation, Jimin agreed, thinking it might help push her feelings for you out of her mind. But it didn’t work.

Every moment of the date was filled with thoughts of you, how you looked when she mentioned Minjeong’s name, that small flicker of hurt Jimin had seen in your eyes, and how much she wished you had been the one to ask her out instead.

Jimin had gone to dinner with Minjeong in a forlorn attempt to move past her emotions, but all it did was make her feel further from you. As the night went on, she couldn't shake the feeling of regret. She realized, with each passing second, that she didn’t want to be with Minjeong.

She wanted you.

She wanted you to be the one asking her out, to be the one sharing the moment with her. Instead, there she was, pretending to enjoy a night she didn’t want, with someone she didn’t feel for.

And then there was your birthday.

Jimin hadn’t even realized it until she saw Ryujin’s message. Your birthday. How could she have not known? She had been so wrapped up in her own conflicted feelings, and now she had missed it. She hadn’t even called you to wish you well. Instead, she had gone on a date with Minjeong, leaving you alone when you should have been her priority. The guilt gnawed at her. She should have been celebrating with you, but instead, she abandoned you for an old fling.

Jimin couldn’t stop thinking about how she must have hurt you, how selfish she had been.

Finally, the sound of the door opening broke her thoughts. One of your drivers had you slung over his back, and Ryujin was close behind, carrying Yeji in her arms.

You groaned as the driver gently set you down on the couch, before grimly walking out of the door.

Ryujin’s eyes met Jimin’s, and she simply shook her head in disappointment before carrying her half-asleep girlfriend away.

The young royalty stood there for a moment, feeling lost. You lay on the couch, flat on your back, murmuring incoherently, your arms covering your face. She couldn't stand seeing you like this—vulnerable and clearly intoxicated. It made her feel even worse for not being there for you earlier.

Jimin walked to your room and picked out your night clothes, the weight of her guilt growing heavier with each step. As she returned to you, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her emotions tangled. She knew she should have been there with you. She should have been the one to care for you on your birthday, not someone else. She couldn’t keep running from how she felt about you anymore.

She gently walked over to you and sat down next to you, her hands shaking as she reached for your arm. She didn’t know what to say or how even to start, but she had to do something.

“Y/N?” she gently shook your arm. “Let’s get you changed.”

When she reached over to remove your blazer, your eyes immediately flew open. The intensity of your gaze caught her off guard, and she froze for a moment, her breath catching.

Your hazy brown eyes met hers, and you frowned, your voice slow and slurred.

“You are a very pretty lady, but I am married.”You tried to pull your blazer closer to your chest. “My wife is very beautiful, and she won’t like it if you touch me.”

Jimin’s heart fluttered despite herself.

She couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, drunk and a little delirious. Despite the alcohol, there was a vulnerability to you, a sincerity that made her chest tighten. You were a different version of yourself, and she couldn’t help but feel drawn to this side of you.

Exasperated but finding you incredibly endearing, Jimin giggled softly, her worries momentarily fading.

“I am your wife, pabo,” she said with a teasing smile, her fingers brushing your cheek as she gently cupped your face.

“Really?” Your eyes widened, your voice full of wonder.

“Yes,” she said, finally managing to remove your blazer and start pulling off your dress shirt.

You whistled, “Damn I got lucky.”

Jimin rolled her eyes, her face flushing pink as she avoided looking at your body, quickly pulling the nightshirt over your frame. It wasn’t easy, seeing you like this, vulnerable, messy, and it felt like everything that was left unsaid between you both was now laid bare in the silence.

After a while of wheedling and convincing, she managed to drag you into her bathroom. She gently lowered you onto the edge of the tub, sitting down behind you as she reached for the makeup remover.

You were a mess, leaning heavily into her as she wiped your face, the gentle motion soothing in the quiet. As she cleaned your face, her thoughts turned inward again, the guilt over the earlier part of the night resurfacing. She needed to say something, but she didn’t know how to start. She wanted to take it all back, to be honest with you about how she felt, about how much she wished you’d been the one there with her instead of Minjeong.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Mhmm.” You slurred, still dazed, her mind a bit foggy. “For what?”

“For going on the date with Minjeong… and for not spending your birthday with you,” Jimin admitted, her words tinged with regret.

“S'not your fault.” Your voice was slow but comforting, the warmth in her tone meant to ease the guilt. “It’s okay.”

“But I hurt you,” Jimin pressed, her eyes searching for any sign of forgiveness.

“Maybe, but I had a crush on you since high school, so you get a free card.” your voice wavered with a small giggle, still distant, as though you words were floating in and out of consciousness.

What?

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat, a warmth spreading through her chest as the truth washed over her. The crush Yeji had mentioned on their wedding night...was Jimin all along?

Her heart fluttered at the thought, and in an unexpected twist, a wave of embarrassment rolled over her. She realized, with a soft flush, that she was jealous of the past version of herself.

She finished drying your face with a clean towel, but her mind was elsewhere. She needed to tell you. She couldn’t keep holding it back, even if she was scared, even if everything felt so uncertain.

“During the date, I kept thinking how much I wished it was you who asked me to go on a date,” she admitted, her words barely above a whisper.

You paused, looking at her with slow, heavy eyes, as if processing her words.

Jimin’s heart thudded in her chest as she waited for a response.

Was she too late? Had she ruined everything?

But then you looked at her, your eyes suddenly sharp and focused, and her heart stuttered in her chest.

“Do you still want a divorce?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying an emotion she couldn’t place.

Jimin hesitated.

Her emotions were swirling, you were the one she wanted, and had always wanted. But the doubt lingered, and she needed to hear you say it, needed to know if there was something real between you both.

“I…” She shook her head slowly, her voice almost trembling. “I don’t think so.”

Your face broke into a grin, that rare, beautiful smile that Jimin had longed to see, and her heart melted in response.

“Then would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow, Lady Jimin?”

She laughed, the nervous tension breaking. “Will you still remember this tomorrow?”

You quickly nodded, your voice steady, “Yes.”

“Then yes,” she replied, her heart soaring. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

You punched the air in excitement, nearly toppling over. Jimin couldn't help but laugh at your dorkiness. She had liked this side of you, so carefree, so you.

She couldn’t hide her adoration for you any longer. She leaned closer and whispered, “Close your eyes.”

You did without hesitation, trusting her with a vulnerability that mirrored her own.

And before you could even process it, her soft, full lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was gentle, lingering just a little longer than you expected. The touch of her lips, soft and sweet, sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding as the world around you seemed to stop.

It was more than just a kiss. It was everything that had been left unsaid, everything you both had been too scared to express. And as Jimin pulled back, your eyes still closed, a smile spread across your face.

It has always been her.

lots of angst in the next chapter! giving you guys a warning here first 😬 be prepared

[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

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 13

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6k

warnings: descriptions of and talk about sa!!

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 13/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It keeps raining, and two hours later when it’s hitting the roof in a calm rhythm, you enter the garage through the open door. Rock music sounds from a speaker but it’s overshadowed by the powerful hits of Jeongguk’s gloved hands against the sandbag hanging from the mount. He’s foregone a shirt, his sweat-covered muscles glistening.

“You call that ‘taking it easy?’” you call out, notifying him of your presence.

He stops his punches, turning to face you with his hand steadying the bag.

“Huh?” he questions, chest heaving.

“I said: ‘you call that taking it easy?’”

He smiles, very out of breath. “I didn’t say ‘easy,’ just easier than what I’m used to.”

You shake your head, venturing further into the garage and reaching the bike.

“How do you even get on this thing? It’s so tall?” you wonder skeptically out loud as you trace the black leather seat with your fingers. It’s definitely a lot taller and wider than just an ordinary bicycle.

Jeongguk steps away from the sandbag, loosening the gloves with his teeth as he heads your way, heavy breaths echoing. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches, but instead of demonstrating like you thought he would, he stops behind you.

“Here,” he places his hands under your armpits.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you try to protest, but it’s too late, and you’re already being lifted onto the seat like a three-year-old.

You definitely also feel like a three-year-old because you don’t even try to reach for the handlebars, instead holding onto the little hill in front of the seat. It probably goes without saying that your feet don’t wholly touch the ground.

“We could go for a ride someday if you want?”

You turn your head to look at his grinning face.

“Uh... no.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

You see the realization of what he just asked flash across his face, but you know it wasn’t how he meant it.

“You don’t seem to value your life very much, no,” you argue, hinting at how he almost died for you.

His face turns relieved, a small smile decorating his lips. “I do. But sometimes, there might be risks I’m willing to take.”

It’s your turn to not know exactly what to say, so you're quick to ask something else instead. You lean forward, actually managing to grab the handlebars somewhat correctly. “Do I look cool?”

Jeongguk’s smile widens, “Absolutely. Even more so if you had the appropriate gear.”

“So… highway patrol? Car or one of these things?”

“One of these things,” he chuckles. “It was exciting, especially car chases really got your blood pumping. Although I think my mom was in a constant state of a heart attack. And the chases didn’t happen that often; most of the time, it was just writing tickets, and I wanted to make more of a difference.”

“Understandable. Your mom, I mean.”

“Yeah. Also, who told you?” he narrows his eyes playfully.

“Jimin. He told me absolutely everything there is to know about you. All your secrets.”

“Nice try; I don’t have any secrets.”

You wonder to yourself how true that really is.

You’ve managed to keep your mind busy and occupied during the day, but when night time rolls around and the rain has only increased, you’re feeling a little anxious.

Standing outside the door to your room and staring at the handle, you don’t notice Jeongguk.

“You know, I don’t mind you sleeping with me.”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes. He’s shirtless again, looking as if he just came from the kitchen. Should you? Last night was very cozy, and if you're being honest with yourself, you liked it a lot. Probably more than you should. You felt… safer.

You hesitate.

“It’s up to you, but I’ll leave the door open.”

He prepares to leave, but you’re quick to make up your mind.

“No, I, um… I’ll just go and change, first?”

Giving you a soft nod, he leaves for his bedroom.

It takes you five minutes to change into a large t-shirt and some shorts and to wash up, and when you enter through the open door, closing it behind you, Jeongguk is folding a pair of pants to hang over a chair. You won’t pretend that you don’t let your eyes quickly skim over his shirtless body as he moves, your heart skipping a beat or maybe two.

“Is that the ring you wore during the mission?” you ask, watching him turn, first to face you and then to look at the object in question on his nightstand.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you keep it?”

He shrugs as he approaches the other side of the bed, the same side he slept on yesterday. “I don’t know. I wore it, then the hospital put it in one of those bags with my other belongings while they took me into surgery. Took the whole bag home, put the ring there. Didn’t wear it because… well, we’re not married, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”

“Hm, okay,” you accept what sounds like a reasonable explanation.

Jeongguk lifts the duvet, getting into the bed while watching you. “You didn’t keep yours?”

“Don’t know what happened to it, but it was fake and pretty much worthless, so…”

“Ouch,” Jeongguk says, clutching his chest.

“Okay, first of all, you just said we weren’t married. And there was no material worth to it. Second, your heart is on the other side.”

Smoothly–and definitely making you giggle while you follow his lead and get into bed–he switches hands to hold the right side of his chest instead. You guess it’s a learning curve.

“Ouch,” he repeats, “Just tell me if you want a divorce.”

It’s with a big smile that you get comfortable, pulling the white duvet up to your chin as you lay on your side, facing the nightstand.

You feel Jeongguk move around a bit too.

“I think the rain’s gonna let up tomorrow,” he mumbles. “It’s been a while since it was this… persistent.”

“Yeah… Thank you for letting me sleep here. It feels… better to not be alone.”

“It’s no problem; I don’t mind.”

Silence falls after that. You listen to the rhythmic beat of raindrops hitting the roof, trying to slow your breaths and heartbeat enough to fall asleep. Although you don’t feel as anxious anymore, it still doesn’t happen. 

Minute by minute ticks by, and you don’t know if Jeongguk is asleep or not.

“It was raining,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “That night when we followed a suspect into a hotel bar.”

You take a breath, listening to the silence of the room, half expecting Jeongguk to stop you. But he doesn’t; maybe because he’s asleep? So you continue quietly, revisiting a memory.

“He stayed there for quite a few hours, so we did as well. We were hoping he’d lead us to his brother so we could arrest both of them for arms trafficking. Hoseong ordered us beer, more so for appearances, but still, and we talked while we kept an eye on the man and waited for him to leave. I remember that we talked about another case we’d just solved, and Hoseong was going on and on about how smart he thought I was and how glad he was to have me as his partner. I was smiling ear to ear, thinking that I was so incredibly lucky, getting to work with and learn from someone who truly saw me. When the suspect instead got a room there for the night, we did as well, figuring it would be more comfortable than sitting in the car all night.”

It’s still quiet, but it feels cathartic to get it out, regardless if Jeongguk is awake to hear it or not. While you've unfortunately noticed more similarities between him and Hoseong than you'd like--like their dark, expressive eyes--Jeongguk feels... different.

“We were meant to do shifts, always have the door open just a sliver so we’d notice if he left. We took our jackets off and Hoseong placed his stuff on the bedside table. Since it was summer, I was wearing a t-shirt and a skirt with my gun strapped to my thigh under it, and so I put the gun in the pocket of my jacket. When I turned around… he kissed me. I was caught by surprise, but I… I kissed him back at first because… Well, I loved him. But then I tried to step back to tell him that we really shouldn’t, that we needed to be alert and ready to follow if the suspect left. But he didn’t listen.”

You pause, feeling the pain and the fear from that day all over again, your skin turning cold. There’s movement behind you, and an arm is slowly and gently draped across your middle, grasping your freezing hand. It makes you feel something, peering down at his hand and the tattoos covering his skin. He’s very warm, and he feels like he’s… stable. Like he has roots growing into the ground that makes him unshakeable. Meanwhile, you’re a leaf; at the mercy of everyone and everything. Easy to blow away, to rip to shreds, to stomp flat to the sound of your bones crunching.

“He held my jaw so tight, I couldn’t speak, and he told me that I’d been teasing him all day in the skirt and that I should be happy because he knew that I loved him. Said I should just suck it up and put out. He… ” you go quiet, unsure of how many details you’re willing to relive. 

Does Jeongguk need to know every step you were pushed toward the bed, how he threw you onto it and got on top of you while you fought? How he unzipped his pants and how he violated you? He probably doesn’t.

“He used his handcuffs and cuffed my hands around the metal bed frame. I tried to…. He said he’d kill me if I screamed.” You remember his hushed yet furious voice in your ear, remember knowing how it was going to end, how he’d kill you right then and there.

“I don’t know if he did it at first because he enjoyed it or if he realized right away that he would need to get rid of me, but he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. I pulled my hands so violently that I dislocated a thumb, but… I got one out. So I tried to stop him, but he was too strong, using all his body weight. My nails on his skin didn’t faze him, and I was losing consciousness. At the very last second–while my vision was turning spotty–I managed to grab the gun from his holster. I aimed it for his thigh and pulled the trigger. He let go. Somehow, I managed to get him off me, and… out of me… but I could barely see or breathe, and there was blood everywhere.

“He swore at me, and I think he tried to get up but couldn’t, so he reached for his phone, and I ran for the door as best I could. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops? What do you think he was doing? I heard him ask our coworkers for help, and I knew. They were coming to help him. So I stood there, in the hall of a shitty hotel, with no car keys, no phone, and nowhere to go, while his back-up was mere minutes away.

“Then, someone down the hall opened their door. It was a young woman, and she peeked out, looked at me where I stood, a shaky, bloody, wheezy mess, and she came and pulled me inside right before the police exited the elevator. I managed to say that we were all law enforcement, but I didn’t need to tell her that they’d kill me off if they found me because we heard Ryung’s voice through the door, telling the rest to find me and make me… pay.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as I was when they knocked on her door. She gestured for me to get inside the bathroom, and I did, watching as she pulled a bathrobe around her body, turning most of the lights off and opening the door to pretend like she’d just woken up. I heard them ask for me, and I heard her politely tell them that no, she hadn’t seen a woman or noticed any commotion. But I saw how her hand trembled behind the door, and I thought the whole time that they knew and were just waiting to push their way inside to get me. But they didn’t. Instead, they left. Shaken, she sat with me on the bathroom floor as I cried, and she helped me clean up a bit and loaned me some of her clothes before she helped me to the hospital across the city border. I stayed the night to have my injuries tended to and documented and a kit done, and the next day, I went to that city’s station to file a report. A female officer helped me, and she’s the only one I’ve told most of this stuff to. Well, except for you now, but I take it you read the report? And the station… you weren’t working that day, but it was your station, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” comes a strained mumble, and you feel him hug you just a bit tighter.

You stare at the wall, feeling both anxious and numb. “It changes you, having someone do that to you. All my life, I’ve known, theoretically speaking, that there’s a risk. A man, anywho, anywhere, anytime, can decide that I don’t get to live anymore. But to experience it, to see the intentions in his eyes, and how he’s… deciding… and not being able to do anything about it. It changes you. It’s always there, the feeling of helplessness.” “I…” Sounding like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, Jeongguk lets silence fall again. 

“You don’t know what to say, do you?” you smile a sad smile to yourself. “No.” “It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you.”

You feel him move closer while also gently pulling you back toward him. You roll back, finding yourself inches away from him where he lies, head supported by his hand and looking down at you. “I’m just… furious, and frustrated, and I wish so badly that I’d been there to help you. If I had just transferred earlier… maybe I could’ve prevented it, or stopped it, or even just caught him and helped you get your justice. Instead, I came along and made it worse.”

You find yourself so lost in him. In the warmth of his body that’s thawing the entirety of yours, and in his kind brown eyes. You can’t believe he’s the same person who took every chance he could to hurt you as recently as a few months ago. He just… looks so sweet.

“You know, you look like a little kid when you’re sleeping” you smile, watching Jeongguk slowly open his eyes, looking a little confused. “You’re also always up before me, so I’ve rarely seen you asleep. I’m not really a morning person.”

The moment he comes to properly, he smiles lazily and rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “I’m not a morning person either, actually,” he explains, his voice lower and raspier than usual.

“Then why are you always awake so early?”

He looks at you as if he’s not sure what to say. “Cause… I have… stuff to do?”

“Okay…”

Jeongguk doesn’t address the suspicion in your voice, instead, he stretches his arms over his head. The duvet moves, exposing his chest and the scar to your eyes.

Letting your fingertip hover just above it, you look back at his still very sleepy face. “Did you really never know about your organs being mirrored?”

“No,” he yawns. 

“But… how? Didn’t you ever have your heart and lungs listened to?”

“I did, but apparently, it’s not too much of a different sound. Sure, my heart beat would have sounded a bit fainter from my left side but it’s such a rare condition that there was no real use investigating further. I had a heart that beat in the right rhythm and no other symptoms so that was enough, I guess,” he shrugs.

“Can I listen?” you bite your lip hopefully.

He raises his eyebrows, “To my heart?”

You nod enthusiastically

“Buy me dinner first, why don’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you feel warm. You meet his gaze and slowly lower your head to his chest while moving your hair out of your face.

His skin feels nice against the side of your face, his chest moving up and down under you slowly, and you hear it. It’s strong, rhythmic, but…

“Are you sure you’re fine, though?” you ask, turning a little more serious, “It’s beating kinda… fast?”

Surely a fit guy like Jeongguk has a slower resting heart rate? 

“You’re also, you know, listening to my heart,” he says, like it’s supposed to mean something?

Wait. Is he… Is he implying that you listening to his heart is making it race? That can’t be true, can it?

You lift your face off of his chest, and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other softly, curiously. His black hair is a little messy, but he looks so warm, and you–.

His phone rings.

Jeongguk sighs but reaches for it where it lies on his nightstand, his eyes widening when he reads the screen. “Shit, I gotta take this.”

He throws the duvet off of him and gets up as he answers the call, and you see him in just his shorts as he disappears out of the room with the phone to his ear.

Following his lead, you rise from the bed, but instead of going wherever Jeongguk disappeared to, you head into your room to throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. While alone, you take a moment to think about last night. You weren’t actually planning on talking about it. You never have, not in that much detail, although you definitely left some things out. And while it feels… hard, it also feels… better? Or, like you’re at least not too scared of him looking at you weirdly or saying it was your fault. Or even worse, like you opened his eyes how easy it was to render you entirely helpless…

Quietly, you enter the kitchen, spotting Jeongguk standing at the counter with the tray of cupcakes you made together in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt now.

He places the phone between his raised shoulder and ear as he peels a wrapper off, “can you ask them to mail copies of the documents to the station? And how did it go, did you manage to reach the mechanic?”

You watch him as he listens to whoever’s on the other side, putting half a cupcake in his mouth. “Mhm, no, no, just book whatever time she’s available. We can meet at the station if she wants to come in or I can go to her. Same for the hotel staff.” 

Is he… looking into your case again? Like, thoroughly following up on all leads and with all possible witnesses? You definitely know it’s not because of what you told him last night; he must’ve decided to do it priorly.

His eyes find you as he listens intently to what the voice has to say. You take a few steps, coming to stand next to him, smiling softly at how cute he looks when he’s multitasking. With one hand, he lifts the other end of the cupcake to you. You take it, watching him as he looks off into the distance absentmindedly. “Alright, thank you.”

You pop the piece into your mouth, chewing it while making a note to definitely bake more.

He ends the call and puts the phone down on the counter. “These are actually really good,” he says, putting his frosting-covered fingertip to his mouth.

You smile, admiring him and all he’s done and is doing for you. A little overcome with emotions, you place your hand on his shirt, pulling it down slowly at the collar and him toward you. He looks curious, but you focus on his lips. Biting your own, you try not to let the fear of rejection win, and you stand on your toes, and you kiss him carefully.

It’s brief, and it’s sweet, and you can’t help but smile when your heels touch the floor again.

“Thank you.”

He blinks, looking happy but surprised.

“What?” you chuckle a little nervously when he doesn’t say anything.

“Nothing. I just… wasn’t sure you actually liked me. Like, at all.”

You tilt your head, listening to him as he continues.

“I know that we kissed that time on the hammock, but we probably weren’t on the same page then, were we? Cause I thought we were, that we were alone and that we had something, but you… you played along because there were people watching, right? You were still acting while I wasn’t.”

You haven’t thought a lot about that moment, embarrassed about what happened and how you reacted, but he’s right. You were acting. You weren’t sure he was, but if he really wasn’t… What were his motives that night?

“Yeah, but you kinda literally took a sword to the heart for me later, and you’ve been really, really kind and sweet to me ever since.”

He grabs another cupcake, chewing a piece of it with a look on his face that tells you he’s… planning something. You wait, expecting him to say something but he just smiles and lifts the other piece to your mouth. Before you can even decide whether to take a bite or not, he nudges the cupcake against your mouth, getting streaks of frosting across your lips.

“What the…”

But he grins, puts the cupcake down, and smiles in a way that lets you know this was exactly what he wanted. Putting his fingers under your chin to lift your head, he leans down to kiss you. You hold your breath, feeling his soft lips against yours again.

He tastes of frosting and racing heart beats, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are warmer than usual.

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

And you feel warm, almost ecstatic, but also like you’ve… forgotten something.

The day after, Jeongguk receives a call that has him hurriedly looking through the house for the keys to his bike, rushing off somewhere after telling you that he’ll probably be back in a few hours. ‘A few hours’ is too vague to really tell you anything, and you’re so used to not asking questions that you don’t think to.

While he’s gone, you decide to start the dishwasher, and you’ve come to learn that Jeongguk always has at least one mug in his office that he’ll keep refilling with coffee way too many times without washing.

Approaching the office, you’re not surprised to see the door to it ajar. It’s rarely closed, and it’s almost like it signifies the transparency between you. Jeongguk doesn’t say much about the case, but it’s not because you can’t know; it’s because he knows you don’t want to know. 

Or didn’t want to know. As you’re standing in the quiet room, his blue mug in your hand, you see a disheveled stack of papers. Usually, you would’ve walked past it, or maybe even re-stacked it neatly before walking past it. 

This time, Hoseong’s name catches your eye. Of course, it’s not weird considering it’s Jeongguk’s main case, but you still find yourself staring at the printed letters. 

Three hours after he left, Jeongguk unlocks his front door, opening it and stepping inside. He sighs at how the people he despises most on the planet always just seem to slip out of his grasp. But when inside, he finds himself easily letting go of that thought and instead thinking about something that has him smiling to himself.

With his shoes and jacket off, he begins his search, expecting to find you either in the living room or your bedroom and getting confused when you aren’t. He peers inside the kitchen and even puts his head into his own bedroom, almost starting to get worried when you’re nowhere to be seen.

He’s about to visit the second bathroom when he passes his office, seeing movement from within the small sliver in the doorway.

“There you are,” he comments happily as he opens the door wider, looking around and taking a moment to process what he’s seeing. “I almost thought you’d evaporated.”

You look up from the floor, where you’re sitting with a bunch of papers spread out in front of you, Jeongguk’s empty cup beside you.

“These are the ones you’re observing?” you ask, lifting a paper toward him, a pen wedged between your index and middle finger.

He takes it from you, quickly reading a summary of months of hard work. “Mhm.”

“Okay,” you say, looking at another paper in your hand, twirling the pen absentmindedly in your other, “I think I have some suggestions.”

After spending hours and hours with Jeongguk, having him explain the progress they’ve made and who they’re investigating, you take a step back to look at the post-its on the living room wall. It has all the fugitives’ relatives, their friends, coworkers, neighbors…. everyone. Since neither of the four men have used their card nor phone, they must’ve almost certainly gotten help, but from who?

You sink down onto the soft cushions of Jeongguk’s couch with a tired sigh, reaching for the remote and smiling when there’s a rerun of a zombie movie.

Jeongguk follows your lead, spreading out as well. “You wanna like… hold hands or something? Cause I could do with a good hand-holding.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, feeling your chest warm from the inside. It’s so easy for him to make you all giddy, forgetting about all of your pains and worries. Or almost all of them, at least.

Still, you nod, and your smile grows when he scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his warm one.

Even as he directs his focus toward the TV, you keep yours on him. On his tired yet still bright, dark eyes, his nose, the faint hollowness under his cheekbones, and his mouth. His hair is just calling out for you to run your fingers through, but you stand your ground, settling for getting to hold his hand. 

“What?” he asks, smiling cheekily at you.

“You asked to hold my hand?” you remind, moving his hand between the two of yours, tracing the veins on the back of it.

“Yeah?”

“It’s cute. You buy flowers and hold hands and open doors.”

Surely, a guy like him can’t exist, right?

“I do. Which reminds me, you were just giving my flowers away?”

He looks at you, faking hurt. Slowly, and with your heart beating hard to nourish the butterflies growing in your stomach, you intertwine your fingers with his. “I didn’t know they were from you; there was never a card or anything.”

“Fine.”

Seemingly accepting your short answer, Jeongguk watches the movie with you for a while in silence, your head coming to rest against the top of his arm. You keep his hand between yours, trying to stay cool despite how being this close to him affects you. There are definitely some sort of butterflies.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about as well?” he mumbles quietly after a while.

“No?”

“At the barbeque, the guy that you were talking to? Who was that? And what did he say?”

You search your mind for a second before it comes back to you; the tall, handsome man who approached you. “I don’t know. He said his name was Haneul, but I don’t think he lived there. I think I heard something about someone having their cousin over or something like that, so I think that was him. Don’t think I saw him again.”

“And what did he say to you? You didn’t look…. very happy.”

You recall the way he felt… off and how he wasted absolutely no time, insulting your husband and offering to take his place. You definitely remember the unfunny feeling of actually wanting to have a rude Jeongguk around just to keep Haneul away.

“Uh, he hit on me.”

“Did you say you were married?”

You scoff. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mind. Basically accused you of lacking in bed and offering to take your place in secret.”

“What?” Jeongguk asks, sounding surprised. “He didn’t look that ballsy to me?”

“It was before he saw how intimidating you are.”

“I’m glad it seemed like I scared him off then. If he was bothering you?”

“Yeah…”

“So why didn’t you tell me? When I asked about him? I would’ve kept an even closer eye on you.”

That, you don’t have to search your mind for. You remember very clearly how scared you were that Jeongguk would laugh. Or that he wouldn’t even believe you because after all, why would anyone hit on someone like you? Especially a man who looked like Haneul because creep or not, he was handsome. Like so often, you fill with shame. Embarrassment for who you are and how you look. It’s been surprisingly easy to not focus as much on it, but it will always be at the back of your mind, and this is just a painful reminder.

“I… didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He squeezes your hand, and you hear and feel him sigh sadly. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you and for being such an overall disappointment. I want to think that I sensed that you were scared and that’s why I kept an eye on you after and asked you about it. But I couldn’t even tell that you were afraid of me as well, so I don’t know, honestly.”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not. I guess I hope your future real husband will be better than your fake one,” he jokes in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Oh. I’m not… I don’t think the possibilities of me getting married are very big.”

“Oh? Because you don’t like… men?”

You nearly snort. Honestly, yeah, all of your problems and issues could be summarized into that short sentence.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in marrying a woman, but I’m not… I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with a man–that went deeper than acquaintances–which didn't leave me hurt in one way or another. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I know you said your dad’s an ass, and I know what happened with Hoseong and us guys at the station, but what… If you want to talk about it, what else…?”

“Who else has hurt me, you mean? It’s complicated, I guess.” 

You look down at your intertwined hands, how Jeongguk’s looks so big between yours. 

You sigh at the memory of how… non mind-blowing your relationships have been so far. Most guys you’ve dated haven’t made even the slightest of efforts for your birthday–if they even remembered it–or to plan dates of any kind after the first honeymoon months. You’ve tried, but with many men, it feels more like they want a live-in maid, who provides sex. It's definitely a conscious effort, how you try not to match Jeongguk to what your younger self dreamed of in a man.

“You remember… at the house? When you said you loved your ex, and I laughed because you’re a man and not capable of love?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that sums it up. My dad didn’t care for my mom or me, he only returned when his new, younger girlfriends–whose bodies weren’t ruined by childbearing–grew tired of his disrespectful, old ass. He knew that she still loved him, and he took advantage of that. I guess I was a little weary around men from a young age after that, but still hopeful that there could be good men out there too. Then I started dating and noticed pretty quickly that… I wasn’t really important like I’d hoped. I wanted dates–even just a picnic in the park occasionally–and I guess I took birthday celebrations–of any kind–for granted. One guy got me a bunch of candy he knew I didn’t like, so he could eat it himself, and another guy entirely forgot it was my birthday even though his was ten days before, and I got him a relatively expensive watch he’d been wanting. One guy did take me out to eat at a pretty nice restaurant, but he was also shamelessly checking out the waitress right in front of me. I saw my friends be treated the same way, and we all just… kept trying. One of my friends was in a relationship for four years, and he was a real sweetheart; made time for her, got her flowers, gave her compliments, all that. Then she discovered he’d been cheating since day one. It wasn’t until Hoseong that I truly decided it wasn’t worth it.”

“You shouldn’t give up hope.”

“It’s easy for you to say, Jeongguk. You’re a man. Your fellow men look out for you and women still care for you. And to be honest… like I said, what happened to me… it’s not something you just move past. Wherever I go, I know that practically every man I meet on the street could decide to hurt me just because he wants to. And it would be up to him, the fate of my entire life is in the hands of every random guy I pass. If he wanted to kill me, there isn’t much I could do. Not only do I know that theoretically speaking, most of them are stronger than me and don’t care what happens to me, but I know the feeling of having it happen.”

“I understand,” he assures softly, squeezing your hand, “I didn’t mean it in a ‘get over it’ way, just that I know there are men out there who would treat you like an equal partner and who would like to do those things you described that you used to want.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it just isn’t worth the risk for me. Romantic love isn’t everything.”

There is still a trace of pity in the look he gives you when you smile sadly at him.

After brushing your teeth and changing into your sleepwear, you find yourself outside the door to your bedroom. The storm has passed, so you definitely should go back to sleeping in your own room.

As if he could read your mind, Jeongguk, on his way to his bedroom, slows down as he passes you. He turns, looks at you and smiles gently as he continues to back toward his door. “You don’t need an excuse, you know? If you want to sleep in your room, that’s fine, but I can’t say I’m not hoping you’ll sleep with me.”

You lift your eyebrows at him, as if to say ‘oh, really?’ He should definitely stop saying ‘sleep with me.’

He shrugs, “I like having you close.”

For half a second, you shut your eyes, realizing you have no defense against him. So you open them, sighing and dropping your shoulders before following him with some species of critter in your stomach. He chuckles.

<previous | next>

author's note: please let me know if you like it! i feel like this part was really important and it was definitely hard to write because fortunately(!!!) i have not experienced what reader has and while i did my best to portray it how i think someone could react and deal with stuff like this, at the end of the day, i don't actually know and i'd hate if it comes off as wrong or glamorizing in any way. if it does, that is 1000% not my intention. on a lighter note; this is very much a calm before a storm lol

[w1w2]

Taste

Karina x Fem!Reader feat. Winter

Word Count: ca. 6k

Synopsis: Amid the shimmering lights of an exclusive party, Y/N finds herself drawn back into the orbit of a complicated past. Memories and emotions collide as she faces unspoken truths and unresolved tensions with two familiar figures. As the night deepens, Y/N is forced to reckon with what she’s lost, what remains, and the strength it takes to walk away.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The venue exuded understated elegance, its high ceilings and minimalist decor a perfect canvas for the glamour of the night. Warm golden light spilled from modern chandeliers, catching the shimmer of sequins and polished champagne flutes as Korea’s entertainment elite mingled and posed for photographers.

Y/N stepped inside, the click of her heels muted by the soft carpeting. She wore a sleek, tailored dress that hugged her frame, a vision of quiet confidence. The air was alive with the hum of conversations, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Her lips curled into a practiced smile as Irene, tonight’s host and star, approached.

“Y/N,” Irene said warmly, her shimmering gown catching the light. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Congratulation.” Y/N replied, her tone as smooth as the champagne she plucked from a passing tray.

They exchanged pleasantries—industry updates, compliments on Irene’s solo debut—but Y/N’s attention began to waver, her eyes scanning the crowd over Irene’s shoulder.

She’s here.

The realization hit before she even saw her. There was an electricity in the room, a pull she couldn’t ignore. And then, as though drawn by instinct, her gaze found her.

Yu Jimin stood near the far wall, radiant as ever. Her long, dark hair framed her sharp features perfectly, her elegant black dress accentuating her tall frame. She was smiling, laughing softly at something Kim Minjeong had said.

Minjeong.

Y/N’s throat tightened as her eyes shifted to the smaller woman at Jimin’s side. Minjeong’s blonde hair fell in soft waves, her white dress glowing under the golden lights. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her laugh bright and unrestrained as she leaned closer to Jimin.

They looked perfect together. Too perfect.

"Oh, I leave quite an impression. Five feet, to be exact."

Y/N’s lips pressed into a thin line as the lyric echoed in her mind, bitter and sharp. She forced her attention back to Irene, nodding at something she’d said, though she hadn’t processed a word.

“Excuse me,” Y/N murmured, lifting her champagne glass in a half-toast before retreating toward the bar.

The bar offered a small reprieve from the crowded room, but it did little to quiet the storm brewing in Y/N’s chest. She tapped her nails against the glass, her thoughts racing.

She hated how easily Jimin still got under her skin. The way her presence filled a room, the way her laughter—so effortless—could drown out everything else.

And yet, here Y/N was, stuck in her orbit again.

Her eyes betrayed her resolve as they flicked back to the far side of the room. Jimin had leaned in closer to Minjeong now, her hand resting lightly on the small of Minjeong’s back. The touch was subtle, casual even, but it screamed intimacy to Y/N.

"You’re wonderin’ why half her clothes went missin’. My body’s where they’re at."

She clenched her jaw, the memory slicing through her composure. Did Minjeong know? Did she know about the stolen nights, the whispered promises, and the way Jimin’s voice used to tremble when she said Y/N’s name?

Y/N turned back to the bar, signaling for another drink.

Flashback

“Do you always have to be so dramatic?” Jimin teased, leaning against the kitchen counter as Y/N searched for a coffee filter.

Y/N spun around, brandishing the empty box. “You’re telling me you live here and don’t have coffee filters? What kind of monster are you?”

Jimin laughed, that low, melodic sound that always made Y/N’s heart skip. “A tea person. Obviously.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. She stepped closer, the box still in hand. “This is unforgivable.”

“Is it?” Jimin asked, her voice softer now. She reached out, her fingers grazing Y/N’s wrist. “How are you going to punish me?”

Y/N tilted her head, her breath catching at the way Jimin’s eyes softened, her teasing replaced by something more vulnerable.

“I’ll think of something,” Y/N murmured, leaning in until their lips met.

End of the flashback

Y/N blinked back to the present, setting her glass down with more force than she intended. The memory still clung to her, its edges bittersweet and raw.

From across the room, as though sensing Y/N’s turmoil, Jimin’s eyes met hers.

The connection was immediate, electric. Jimin’s laughter faded, her smile dimming as her gaze lingered. For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to dull, leaving only the unspoken tension crackling between them.

Minjeong, oblivious, tugged lightly on Jimin’s arm, pulling her back into their conversation. Jimin tore her gaze away, her expression unreadable.

Y/N exhaled sharply, her chest tight. She turned back, signaling for another drink.

Y/N took the fresh glass of champagne from the bartender, her fingers wrapping around the stem as if it were her only anchor. She hated how easily Jimin still got under her skin. The way her presence filled a room, the way her laughter—so effortless—could drown out everything else.

And yet, here Y/N was stuck in her orbit again.

Her eyes betrayed her resolve as they flicked back to the far side of the room. Jimin had leaned in closer to Minjeong now, her hand resting lightly on the small of Minjeong’s back. The touch was subtle, casual even, but it screamed intimacy to Y/N.

Does she know?

The thought twisted in her mind, sharper than she wanted to admit. Did Minjeong know about her? About the stolen nights, the whispered promises, and the way Jimin had trembled in her arms? Did Minjeong know that, even as she smiled so sweetly now, Jimin still carried the ghost of their time together?

Y/N clenched her jaw, her polished exterior barely holding under the weight of it all.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

She turned, startled to find Irene standing beside her. Irene’s sharp eyes missed nothing, though her smile remained polite.

“Fine,” Y/N replied quickly, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Just needed a breather.”

Irene studied her for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching. “A breather or a distraction?”

Y/N chuckled softly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re too observant for your own good.”

“It’s a gift,” Irene replied, her tone light but her gaze pointed. She glanced toward Jimin and Minjeong, her expression unreadable. “You know, some things have a way of lingering even when you think they shouldn’t.”

Y/N’s lips tightened around the rim of her glass, but she didn’t respond. Instead, her eyes flickered back toward Jimin, unbidden. The sight of her, standing so effortlessly close to Minjeong, stirred something sharp and restless in Y/N’s chest.

The room felt warmer, the noise of clinking glasses and muted laughter pressing in. Y/N took a steadying breath, her fingers tracing the edge of her flute.

Irene seemed to sense her unease. “Don’t let the ghosts win,” she said softly, her voice almost lost in the hum of the crowd.

Y/N blinked, turning to look at her. “What makes you think they have?”

Irene smiled faintly, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she offered a polite nod and slipped away, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

As Y/N let her gaze drift back across the room, her breath caught. Jimin’s eyes flickered toward her, the connection immediate and electric.

Jimin felt Y/N’s gaze like a static charge in the air. It prickled at her skin, pulling her attention no matter how hard she tried to focus on Minjeong.

“Jimin?”

Minjeong’s voice was gentle, her head tilted in that familiar way that always made Jimin feel safe.

“Hm?” Jimin blinked, realizing Minjeong had asked her a question.

“Are you okay?” Minjeong asked, a hint of worry creeping into her tone. “You seem... distracted.”

Jimin forced a smile, giving Minjeong’s hand a light squeeze. “I’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”

Minjeong seemed to accept the answer, but her eyes lingered on Jimin’s for a moment too long. There was a quiet curiosity in her gaze, as if she sensed there was more to Jimin’s distraction than the weight of the event.

“Okay,” Minjeong said softly, her voice tinged with a gentle reassurance. She turned her attention back to the room.

Jimin exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly when Minjeong wasn’t looking. Her gaze wandered again—inevitably—to Y/N.

Y/N, leaning against the bar, looked unshaken on the surface. But Jimin recognized the tension in her posture, the way her fingers traced the edge of her glass as if holding herself in check.

For a brief second, Jimin allowed herself to linger, her chest tightening with the weight of everything unspoken.

Y/N was halfway through her second glass of champagne when her resolve finally cracked. The air around her felt too thick, the noise of the party too loud. But it wasn’t the room that suffocated her—it was the unanswered questions, the lingering tension that stretched between her and Jimin like a taut string.

Y/N had just set her glass down when she saw Jimin approach. Her movements were deliberate, her expression poised, but Y/N could see the cracks beneath the surface.

“Y/N,” Jimin said softly, the sound of her name almost lost in the noise around them.

“Jimin,” Y/N replied, her tone smooth but edged with something sharp.

Before the tension could unravel further, Minjeong appeared beside Jimin, her timing impeccable. Her expression was curious but polite as she took in Y/N, her smile warm and unassuming.

“Hi,” Minjeong said, offering a small nod.

Y/N’s chest tightened. She managed a faint smile. “Hi.”

The silence stretched, awkward and palpable. Minjeong glanced between them, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Minjeong,” Jimin said, her voice unusually tight, “would you mind grabbing us some water? I’ll be right here.”

Minjeong hesitated for the briefest moment but nodded. “Sure.” She touched Jimin’s arm lightly before walking away, her presence leaving a noticeable void.

Y/N didn’t wait for Jimin to speak. “She’s sweet,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

“She is,” Jimin replied, her voice quieter now.

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “And yet, here we are.”

Jimin’s breath hitched, but she said nothing, her eyes darting to the glass in her hand.

“Funny,” Y/N continued, her voice low but cutting. “She doesn’t seem to notice the way you keep looking at me.”

Jimin opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The tension between them was a living thing now, thrumming like a heartbeat.

"I heard you’re back together, and if that’s true, you’ll just have to taste me when she’s kissing you."

Y/N took a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Does she know, Jimin? Does she know that when you touch her, you’re thinking of me?”

Jimin flinched, the sharpness of the words slicing through her composure.

Before Jimin could respond, Minjeong returned, her bright smile cutting through the haze like sunlight after a storm.

“Here you go,” Minjeong said, handing Jimin a glass of water.

Y/N stepped back, her mask slipping back into place as easily as a curtain falling over a stage.

“I’ll see you around,” she said smoothly, her gaze flicking between them before she turned and walked away.

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd, Jimin’s grip tightened around the glass, her knuckles white against the delicate crystal. She drew in a slow breath, but it did little to steady the weight pressing down on her chest.

She turned back to Minjeong, who was mid-conversation with another guest, her soft laugh cutting through the noise of the room. For a moment, Jimin envied Minjeong’s lightness—the way she could immerse herself so fully in the moment without the shadow of someone else pulling her attention away.

Jimin’s gaze darted back to where Y/N had been moments before, but she was gone. The space she’d occupied felt like a void, lingering in the back of Jimin’s mind like a stubborn echo.

The sound of laughter from the far side of the room blended into a dull hum as Y/N leaned against the bar. Her polished exterior—so carefully constructed—was starting to falter, and she hated it. Every glimpse of Jimin and Minjeong together chipped away at the armor she had built around herself since the breakup.

The memories came unbidden, vivid and cruel, pulling her back to moments she thought she had locked away.

Flashback

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jimin had whispered, though the way her hand lingered on Y/N’s wrist told a different story.

Y/N smirked, stepping closer. “Maybe not. But here I am.”

They were in Jimin’s hotel room, the city lights spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting everything in shades of gold and shadow. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the world outside nothing but a distant hum.

Jimin looked at Y/N like she was a question she didn’t know how to answer. There was hesitation in her eyes, but it was overpowered by something deeper, something hungry.

“You’re trouble,” Jimin murmured, her voice soft but unsteady.

Y/N tilted her head, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “You like trouble.”

Whatever restraint Jimin had been clinging to snapped in that moment. She pulled Y/N closer, her lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. Y/N’s hands found their way into Jimin’s hair, tugging gently, earning a soft gasp that sent a shiver down her spine.

For a while, it was just them—no consequences, no questions.

End of the flashback

Back at the bar, Y/N’s fingers curled around her champagne flute as the memory faded. She exhaled shakily, her chest tight.

"Every time you close your eyes… Just know I was already there."

The lyrics twisted in her mind, bitter and taunting. Y/N took a sip of champagne, willing the ache in her chest to dull.

Flashback

“What are you smiling about?” Y/N asked, her voice soft and teasing.

Jimin turned her head, her cheek resting against the pillow. Her dark hair was a mess, her face bare, and her expression unguarded in a way that made Y/N’s heart ache.

“Nothing,” Jimin said, though her smile grew.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, rolling onto her side to face her. “You’re terrible at lying.”

Jimin laughed, the sound low and melodic. “Okay, fine,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I was just thinking… this feels nice.”

“Nice?” Y/N repeated, pretending to be offended.

Jimin rolled her eyes but leaned closer, her hand finding Y/N’s beneath the sheets. “You know what I mean.”

Y/N’s teasing faded as she took in the sincerity in Jimin’s eyes. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a while, tangled in the quiet morning light, the world outside their little bubble forgotten.

End of the flashback

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she watched Jimin from across the room. She leaned in to whisper something to Minjeong, earning a soft laugh in return. The sight sent a fresh pang through Y/N’s chest, though she refused to let it show.

She used to smile like that for me.

The thought was bitter, yet undeniable. Y/N knew she had left her mark on Jimin, even if she’d been cast aside.

Flashback

“You’re really going back to her?” Y/N’s voice wavered despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Jimin stood near the door, her arms crossed, her expression conflicted. “It’s not that simple, Y/N.”

“It is,” Y/N said, taking a step closer. “You’re making it complicated.”

Jimin’s shoulders slumped, and she turned her gaze to the floor. “I can’t… I can’t keep doing this. With you. With her.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to speak. “So, what? You’re choosing her? After everything we—”

“It’s not about choosing!” Jimin interrupted, her voice rising for the first time. “It’s about… it’s about history. And safety. And not ruining everything I’ve worked for.”

Y/N froze, her chest tightening. “Ruining everything?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin’s expression softened, regret flashing in her eyes. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Y/N said, cutting her off. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You meant every word.”

Jimin reached for her, but Y/N stepped back, shaking her head. “Just go,” she said, her voice breaking. “If that’s what you want, then go.”

And Jimin did.

End of the flashback

The memory still felt fresh, even now. Y/N closed her eyes briefly, the noise of the party becoming a distant hum as her thoughts spiraled.

"You can have her if you like. I've been there, done that once or twice."

She hated how true the words felt, how much of herself she had given to Jimin, only to be left behind.

When she opened her eyes again, she caught Jimin looking at her from across the room. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded.

Y/N held her gaze, refusing to look away, even as her chest tightened with everything unsaid.

And then, just as quickly as it happened, Jimin turned back to Minjeong, her expression unreadable.

Y/N exhaled slowly, setting her empty glass on the bar. The night was far from over, but she was already exhausted. The air felt too thick, the noise of the party too loud, pressing against her like a weight she couldn’t shake.

She glanced over her shoulder, half-tempted to slip away unnoticed, but something held her in place. A pull she couldn’t resist.

Her gaze drifted across the room, searching for the source of her unrest.

The crowd ebbed and flowed like a tide, vibrant and alive, but Y/N stood still, her gaze fixed on Jimin and Minjeong across the room. They looked effortless together, a picture of ease and harmony that made Y/N’s chest ache.

Minjeong’s laugh was bright and unrestrained, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. She had an openness about her, a warmth that drew people in without trying. Y/N watched as Jimin leaned in closer, her tall frame almost curling protectively around Minjeong’s smaller one. The movement was subtle, instinctive, and painfully familiar.

She learned that from me.

The thought hit Y/N before she could stop it, sharp and unrelenting.

She couldn’t unsee the parallels. The way Jimin tilted her head just so, nodding along as Minjeong spoke, her lips curling into that soft, private smile. It was the same smile Jimin had once saved for Y/N, during late-night conversations and whispered secrets.

Y/N’s grip tightened on her glass as another laugh rang out. Jimin was teasing Minjeong now, something clever and understated that had Minjeong giggling and swatting at her arm playfully. The sound of Jimin’s laugh—low and melodic—sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

"She’s funny now, all her jokes hit different. Guess who she learned that from?"

The thought was bitter, yet undeniable. Y/N had taught Jimin how to wield humor like a weapon—lighthearted but disarming, a way to draw someone closer without them even realizing it.

Jimin glanced up, her gaze flickering to Y/N for the briefest of moments. Her expression remained unreadable, her polished composure firmly in place.

But Y/N saw through it. She saw the crack beneath the surface, the hesitation that lingered in Jimin’s movements every time their eyes met.

“Jimin,” Minjeong said, her voice cutting through the moment. She tugged gently on Jimin’s hand, smiling up at her.

Jimin blinked, her attention snapping back to Minjeong. Her lips curved into a smile. Warm, reassuring, but not quite reaching her eyes. “What is it?”

Minjeong tilted her head toward the dessert table. “They’ve got those little tarts you love. Want to grab some before they’re gone?”

Jimin hesitated, her gaze darting back toward Y/N’s direction, but she caught herself quickly. “Yeah,” she said, squeezing Minjeong’s hand lightly. “Let’s go.”

The two moved together, weaving through the crowd, but Y/N’s eyes followed them like a magnet.

Y/N set her glass down on the bar, her fingers tracing the rim absently. She hated how much power Jimin still held over her, even from across a crowded room. But there was something else there, something she couldn’t ignore.

Pride.

Despite everything—despite the heartbreak and the bitterness—Y/N couldn’t help but feel a small, stubborn sense of pride in the way she had shaped Jimin. Their time together had been brief but intense, and it had left an imprint on Jimin that couldn’t be erased.

The way Jimin leaned into Minjeong now, her touches gentle but deliberate, mirrored the intimacy they’d once shared. It was a habit Y/N had teased her about endlessly, back when they’d stolen moments away from the rest of the world.

From the dessert table, Jimin glanced over her shoulder, her eyes seeking out Y/N once again. Minjeong didn’t seem to notice, too busy chatting with the person next to her, but Jimin’s focus wavered.

Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but the words died in her throat. The weight of Y/N’s gaze, the history between them, lingered like a ghost in the air.

Minjeong turned back to Jimin, holding up a tart with a playful grin. “Got one for you before I ate them all.”

Jimin laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thanks,” she said, her voice gentle.

But as Minjeong handed her the dessert, Jimin’s hand trembled slightly, the crack in her facade growing just a little wider.

Minjeong, ever perceptive, tilted her head curiously but said nothing, her focus shifting to a nearby conversation. Jimin’s eyes darted back toward Y/N, the weight of their shared history tugging at her chest.

Across the room, Y/N noticed the hesitation. The tremor. The way Jimin’s gaze flickered toward her as if she couldn’t help herself.

Y/N exhaled slowly, letting the tension settle in her chest. She didn’t need to fight for Jimin’s attention; she already had it. Every glance, every hesitation, every joke Jimin told was proof of the mark Y/N had left.

But it wasn’t enough—not anymore.

Her gaze shifted away, back to her own reflection in the bar’s mirror. The woman staring back at her looked composed, confident. But underneath, she was tired. Tired of being haunted by someone who had chosen stability over passion.

"You’ll just have to taste me when she’s kissing you."

The lyric echoed in her mind, bitter and unyielding. Y/N straightened her posture, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips.

Let Jimin remember her. Let her feel the weight of Y/N’s absence every time she touched Minjeong. Y/N wasn’t going to fight for someone who didn’t choose her—not anymore.

The thought gave her a fleeting sense of closure, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the restlessness thrumming in her chest. The noise of the party felt louder now, the air heavier.

She needed to get out, to find some space where she could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in.

Y/N turned away from the bar and slipped through the crowd, weaving past clusters of chatter and bursts of laughter until she found a side door leading to the balcony.

The balcony was quiet, the distant hum of the city below muffled by the soundproof glass doors behind her. A faint breeze teased at the edges of Y/N’s dress, the chill of the night air biting against her skin. She leaned against the railing, her champagne flute dangling loosely from her fingers, the golden liquid untouched.

The room inside had become too much—the laughter, the stolen glances, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on her chest. Out here, under the glow of the moon and the soft glitter of city lights, she could breathe.

But not for long.

The sound of the door sliding open made her stiffen. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Y/N.” Jimin’s voice was soft, hesitant, but it carried through the still night air like a whisper in a cathedral.

Y/N didn’t look at her. “I was wondering when you’d come,” she said, her voice steady but devoid of warmth.

Jimin stepped closer, her heels clicking against the stone floor. “I just... needed to talk to you.”

That made Y/N laugh, low and humorless. She turned, leaning her hip against the railing as she finally met Jimin’s gaze. “Talk?” she repeated. “Now you want to talk?”

Jimin’s lips parted, but no words came. For the first time tonight, her polished composure wavered, cracks appearing in the armor she’d so carefully built.

“I saw the way you were looking at me,” Y/N continued, her tone sharper now. “Or maybe you were just trying to see through me. Is that it, Jimin? Hoping I’d disappear if you ignored me long enough?”

Jimin flinched, her hand tightening on the clutch she’d brought with her. “That’s not fair,” she murmured.

“Fair?” Y/N took a step forward, her voice dropping into something softer, more dangerous. “You think this is fair? Watching you play house with her while you look at me like—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Forget it.”

Jimin took a shaky breath, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t plan this, Y/N. I didn’t plan on you being here tonight.”

“And yet, here we are,” Y/N said, a bitter edge to her words. She swirled the champagne in her glass absently before setting it on the railing. “So, what do you want? To explain? To apologize? Or are you just here to make yourself feel better?”

“That’s not why—” Jimin started, but Y/N cut her off.

“Spare me,” Y/N said, her voice laced with exhaustion. She looked at Jimin, her eyes sharp and unyielding. “You chose her. Again. And maybe that’s what hurts the most—not that you left, but that you always seem to come back just to remind me of it.”

Jimin’s carefully constructed walls began to crack, her breathing uneven. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice trembling.

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head. “Congratulations. You failed.”

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of traffic below.

“I still think about you,” Jimin admitted quietly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her gaze dropped to the ground, as if saying it out loud was too much to bear. “I see you everywhere—in my head, in my jokes, in the way I…” She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Y/N’s throat tightened, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, wry smile. “You’ll just have to taste me when she’s kissing you.”

Jimin’s head snapped up, her eyes wide and glassy. She looked like she wanted to respond, to fight back, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Look, Jimin,” Y/N said, her voice softening slightly, the sharp edges of her anger dulled by exhaustion. “I don’t want to be your regret. But I know I’ll always be your ghost.”

Jimin flinched at the word, her composure crumbling further. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to argue, but no words came. Instead, her hand lifted halfway, fingers trembling like they were caught between reaching for Y/N and letting go entirely.

“Don’t,” Y/N said quietly, her tone not harsh but resolute. The single word carried a finality that made Jimin’s hand falter. It dropped back to her side, and she took a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her own indecision.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispered, barely audible over the soft hum of the city behind them.

Y/N’s gaze softened, but her expression remained unreadable. “Yeah,” she said after a long pause, her voice steady but distant. “Me too.”

The silence that followed was deafening. They stood there, inches apart but separated by a chasm neither of them could cross. The memories between them felt alive, pressing down on the air, filling the space with everything they couldn’t say.

Jimin looked at Y/N one last time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

Y/N’s lips quirked into the faintest, bittersweet smile. “I know,” she replied, her words softer now. “But you did.”

For a moment, Jimin hesitated, as if she might stay, as if she might say something more. But the moment passed, and with visible reluctance, she turned and took a step back.

Her hand hovered on the glass door, her reflection ghosting over the city lights beyond. She paused, casting one last glance over her shoulder, her face shadowed with regret.

Y/N met her gaze evenly, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. There was no anger left in her expression, just a quiet resolve that made Jimin’s chest ache.

Jimin finally slid the door open and stepped back inside, leaving Y/N alone on the balcony.

Y/N didn’t move, even after the door slid shut behind Jimin, leaving her alone on the balcony once more. Her chest felt hollow, her breath shallow as she leaned back against the railing. The chill of the metal seeped through her dress, grounding her even as her emotions churned.

She tilted her head back, letting her gaze drift to the stars scattered across the vast, inky sky. They seemed impossibly far away, distant and untouchable. For a moment, she envied them—their silence, their constancy.

The tears came quietly, slipping down her cheeks unchecked. She didn’t fight them. It wasn’t the kind of grief that demanded sobs or outbursts; it was quieter, more resigned. It wasn’t about what could have been anymore. It was about what never truly was.

There was no collapse, no shattering. Just a slow, aching acceptance of something she had always known deep down: Jimin had been a ghost in her life long before tonight. A flicker of light she had tried to hold onto, even as it slipped through her fingers.

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. It wasn’t a smile born of joy, but of understanding—of the weight finally lifting, even if it left a scar behind.

The city stretched out before her, endless and alive. The buzz of traffic below, the distant glow of streetlights, the muffled hum of voices inside the venue—they were reminders that life continued, indifferent and unstoppable.

She was still here.

She straightened, pulling her shoulders back, the breeze teasing her hair as she turned to glance at the glass door. A part of her wondered if Jimin would come back, but the thought didn’t linger. Y/N no longer needed her to.

The party was beginning to slow, its earlier energy now replaced by a quieter, more reflective buzz. Conversations grew softer, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and bursts of laughter that seemed to echo in the half-empty room.

The golden glow of the chandeliers felt warmer now, casting long shadows across the thinning crowd. The music had shifted too, slower and subdued, as if the night itself was winding down alongside the guests.

Y/N stood near the edge of the room, a fresh glass of champagne cradled in her hand. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, the glass more of a prop than a comfort. Her gaze wandered over the room, though her focus was elsewhere, her thoughts still tethered to the balcony.

Ghost.

The word lingered in her mind, heavy but strangely freeing. She had spent so much time fighting to hold onto pieces of what she and Jimin had shared, clinging to memories as if they could somehow make her whole again. But out on that balcony, as Jimin had walked away, Y/N had finally felt something shift.

It wasn’t closure—not entirely. Closure suggested an ending, clean and final. What she felt was more like an exhale, a slow loosening of the grip she had held on something she no longer needed.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The familiar voice drew her back to the present, and Y/N turned to find Irene standing beside her. The singer’s earlier, crowd-working smile had softened into something quieter, more personal.

“Not worth that much,” Y/N replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Irene chuckled, raising her own glass to her lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You’ve had that look all night.”

“What look?”

Irene tilted her head, studying her. “The one that says you’re carrying something too heavy to set down, even though you want to.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, letting out a quiet laugh. “That obvious, huh?”

“To me, maybe,” Irene admitted, her tone gentle. She set her glass down and leaned in slightly. “You don’t have to tell me, but... if it helps, you’re not alone. Everyone’s haunted by something.”

The words hung in the air, simple but resonant, their weight settling over Y/N like a warm blanket. She let the silence stretch between them, her gaze shifting back toward the far side of the room.

There they were—Jimin and Minjeong.

Minjeong was speaking animatedly, her hands gesturing as she laughed at something Jimin had said. Jimin was smiling too, that soft, private smile Y/N had once known so intimately. They looked happy, a picture of comfort and stability that could have made Y/N ache.

But as she watched, Y/N caught something else. Jimin’s fingers tapped lightly against her glass, a nervous habit Y/N recognized all too well. There was a faint crease between her brows when Minjeong wasn’t looking, a flicker of something unspoken in her expression.

She’s carrying it too, Y/N thought.

The realization didn’t bring comfort exactly, but it brought something close to peace. They had both been changed, scarred in their own ways, but Y/N was no longer tethered to that pain.

She exhaled, the breath steady and deliberate, her grip on her glass loosening as she set it down. The weight wasn’t gone entirely, but it was lighter now, easier to bear.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” she said, turning back to Irene.

Irene nodded, her expression soft with understanding. “Sometimes leaving is the bravest thing you can do.”

Y/N smiled faintly, the corners of her lips curving upward with a quiet gratitude. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it carried weight—a silent acknowledgment of the truth in Irene’s words. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, the movement simple yet deliberate, as if shedding the last remnants of hesitation.

The walk toward the exit felt longer than it should have, every step echoing with memories she was letting go. The golden glow of the chandeliers flickered over her, each footfall a quiet rebellion against the weight in her chest. Conversations buzzed faintly around her, their cadence softer now, as if the party itself was winding down.

As she reached the door, her hand brushed against the cool metal of the handle. Something made her glance back—a pull she couldn’t entirely resist.

Across the room, Jimin and Minjeong remained in their own world. Minjeong’s laugh floated through the air, light and uninhibited, and Jimin’s lips quirked into a smile that once had been reserved for Y/N. The pang in Y/N’s chest flared briefly, a sharp reminder of what was and what would never be again. But there was a difference now—an unexpected softness to the ache, like a bruise fading under time’s patient touch.

She turned back to the door, her fingers tightening briefly around the handle before she pushed it open. The night greeted her with a crisp embrace, the chill biting against her skin yet somehow refreshing. It was a stark contrast to the warmth of the venue, a reminder that outside those walls, life stretched on in endless, unpredictable patterns.

The city spread out before her, alive with a thousand stories, none of which she was beholden to. Y/N paused at the edge of the sidewalk, her breath visible in the night air. Tilting her head back, she let the city lights blur into the stars above, her heart settling into a calm rhythm she hadn’t felt in months.

“If you want forever, and I bet you do. Just know you'll taste me too”

“She’ll taste me every time.” The words slipped out softly, carried away by the breeze. They weren’t bitter or triumphant—just an acknowledgment of the truth she had lived.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of those words settle. They weren’t about holding on anymore. They were about release—a final reminder to herself that she had left her mark and didn’t need to keep proving it.

When she opened her eyes again, the world seemed sharper, more vibrant. The streetlights flickered against the pavement, and the distant hum of traffic reminded her of everything waiting beyond this moment.

With a steady breath, Y/N straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she began walking, each step sure and unwavering. The night stretched ahead, vast and full of potential, and for the first time in a long time, she felt ready to embrace it.

She didn’t need to look back.

She was done looking back.

The memories, the pain, and the lingering echoes of Jimin’s presence—they would always be a part of her, but they no longer defined her. Y/N was more than what she had lost. She was the sum of every moment she had survived, every choice she had made to stand back up.

As the cool night air wrapped around her, Y/N allowed herself a small, private smile. This wasn’t the end of her story—it was a new beginning.

She was ready to reclaim herself.

[kooqitas]

— sharing ★ with: bts

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

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

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

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

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

you laughed, because you know that’s real…

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

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

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

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

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

and then the doorbell rang.

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

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

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

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

and then they rang the doorbell again.

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

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

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

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

shit, jungkook shouldn’t have teased you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

god, your boyfriend was a perv.

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

“dude, respect my girl!”

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

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

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

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

“i want something” taehyung said.

"what do you want to see?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i need to get it!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and this triggered a series of humiliations.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[honeylations]

- In The Right Place -

NING YIZHUO x FEM!READER

Prompt: You knew moving into a new school wasn’t easy, but when Ning Yizhuo tried bullying you, the tables turned after she finds out your secret.

Warnings/Notes: g!p new student reader, bullying, eventual smut, bully Aespa but Ning is mostly shown, unprotected sex, shower sex, mostly dom reader

“Welcome to hell!” Huh Yunjin dramatically announced to you while presenting the corridor of students that seemed to be calmer than she had anticipated.

You looked at your new friend with a questioning smile.

No seriously, you two became friends a few minutes ago after she accidentally ran you over with her skateboard at the entrance gate. Then Yunjin offered to tour you around the school as an apology.

“Seems chill. Where’s the ‘hell’ in this?”

“You’re looking in the wrong direction actually” Yunjin corrected and forcefully turned your head to where 4 girls were cornering a smaller student at their locker.

It was clear that they were bullying her, from how they stood with their arms crossed, all wearing an intimidating smirk you knew too well.

In the next second, the tallest of the 4 slapped the victim’s books causing them to scatter all over the floor. You hung your head back and groaned.

“Bullying, seriously? Let’s grow up”

Yunjin’s eyes widened when you calmly walked to the scene and picked up the fallen books, returning them to the small girl that muttered a tiny thank you before running off.

“Jang Y/n, you are done for” Yunjin muttered, not daring to follow you but rather watch from afar.

Yizhuo tilted her head up at you before waving her phone in your face and then letting it fall to the ground with a thud. You were confused by the action but still bent down to grab it and hand it back to her.

“Careful” you softly said.

Yizhuo hummed. She liked your features.

“So obedient. I like that”

You were tall and you smelt fresh yet sweet. But what the shorter girl noticed the most was that you were wearing slacks instead of the school’s skirt.

“You know the policy says girls are to wear skirts right?”

You chuckled. “And you know the policy says no bullying…right?”

Murmurs filled the halls and Yizhuo’s 3 girls sent them glares that immediately made the hall go quiet again.

“You’re new aren’t you?” Yizhuo smirked, tracing the lines of your name badge. “Jang Y/n? I’m Ning Yizhuo and this Jimin, Minjeong, and Aeri”

“Are you gonna bully me too?” You mockingly tilted your head like she did earlier.

Yizhuo only smirks. She takes a step back to examine you one last time, then clicking her fingers to signal the girls their leave. “Watch your back, Y/n” were her last words before disappearing down the hall.

Yunjin slowly wrapped her arm around you. “Dude…Rest in peace”

It’s been a couple weeks..

You honestly thought Yizhuo was all talk like most bullies are, but her and her clique would somehow know when you’re walking alone whether it was in the locker room, the halls, or in the library.

You are currently in the cafeteria with Yunjin and Chaewon (who she introduced herself to you as Yunjin’s girlfriend) after the lunch bell rang. It was peaceful until you felt the presence of the 4 girls surrounding you.

You didn’t need to question who they were.

“Scram” Yizhuo simply ordered to your two friends, easily obeying and moving to a different table.

The girls then sat with you, watching you like a hawk as you fed yourself. You reached for your juice bottle but Aeri quickly snatched it from your reach and giving it to Yizhuo.

The Chinese girl was smiling like a maniac, ensuring you were watching her every move. She brought the opened bottle to her lips, running her tongue all over the rim before spitting inside, then returning it to you.

“Drink up, puppy”

You swallowed the rice in your mouth and retrieved your beverage without a fuss, surprising everyone from your nonchalant demeanor. Maintaining eye contact with Yizhuo, you took huge gulps of your juice until the bottle was empty, your confidence just fueling the fire within the Chinese girl.

“Good girl. Now drink this” Yizhuo stood up to grab your bowl of miso soup and pour it all over your head, letting it drench your uniform.

You got up in shock, not realising the wet top sticking to your skin was basically flashing your abs underneath. Yizhuo blinked and noticed that her friends were staring too, mouth agape.

Not from Yizhuo raining soup on you, but from the free ab show. To which you were oblivious about.

“Nice one, Ning Yizhuo. Now I gotta shower” You grumbled and abandoned your food tray to storm out of the cafeteria.

Being in the school for not even a month allowed you to get a taste of Yizhuo’s antics, but being humiliated in front of the school from a stupid soup pour was over the line.

Luckily you had soccer practice later after school so the only clothes you could change into was your clean jersey and shorts.

Once stripped naked out of your ruined uniform, you hopped into a shower stall and managed to get the miso out of your hair and skin, feeling relief of not having to smell like a wet savoury rag for the next few hours.

As you busked under the warm water, your mind wandered back to the cafeteria incident when Yizhuo played with your drink. How she stared deeply into your eyes while licking the bottle’s rim…

Your mind continued to wander into imagination of how the shorter girl would look on her knees in front of you, running that tongue around your tip as if it was the bottle…then spitting on it.

Your cock stood hard and proud from the short thought. You cursed yourself for thinking in such a way but there was no other way to fix it. You tried thinking of gross stuff but your mind would find its way back to your sudden sexual fantasies with Yizhuo.

“No wonder you wear slacks all the time” The familiar voice spoke cheerfully behind you.

You quickly covered your crotch and looked at Yizhuo with wide eyes. Not only did she catch your secret but she was also fucking naked in the stall with you!

“Get the fuck out!”

“Rude much?

You grabbed the nearest object to further hide your erected cock. That object unfortunately being your bottle of shampoo.

“Yizhuo, why are you in here?!”

“To shower”

“So go shower in the other stalls?!”

The bully didn’t answer but continued to approach you in slow, alluring steps like she was trying to hypnotise you. Her cat like eyes were boring into yours and you felt yourself fall further.

Then, just like in your imagination earlier, Yizhuo went on her knees and pushed your hands away from your genitalia. “Never thought of you as the type to pack a lot”

You rolled your eyes at the backhanded compliment. “Should I thank you or beat your ass?”

She titled her head at you with a cheeky smirk. “You can beat my ass with this cock of yours”

“Yizhuo please don’t tell anyone about this. Im serious.”

“My god, you’re so fun to mess with. You just gave me the easiest blackmail ever”

The thought of the girl exposing your secret to the school which could potentially ruin your life, snapped something in your brain. As if automatically, your hand grabbed a fistful of her head and pulled tightly. “Listen here bitch”

Yizhuo gasped, a sudden gush of wetness slobbering all over her pussy and thighs from the rough hair pull. It hurt, but turned her on soooooo much.

“I was already nice enough to let you mess around with me during class and lunch, but if you ever open that goddamn mouth about my dick, I will fucking. End. You”

“I-It hurts, Y/n”

“Wow, this is the girl everyone gets stepped on? What happened to your bully persona, Ning Yizhuo?”

Yizhuo could only moan at your words like they were aphrodisiac. “Hngh, Y/n-ie…please fuck me! Fuck my mouth!”

“If I knew you’d be so obedient like this, I would’ve fucked you earlier” You smirked, removing your hand from the girl’s hair and grabbing her jaw to force it open.

Yizhuo felt her mouth stretch when you entered your entire size inside, not giving her time to adjust, causing her to gag.

You leaned back into the shower wall and groaned at how beautiful Yizhuo looked sucking you off. She looked innocently into your eyes while bobbing her head, holding onto your thighs for dear life.

“Y-You’re so pretty, Yizhuo. Holy shit..” you breathed out.

The Chinese girl pulled her mouth away from your cock. “You…You’re pretty too”

“Am I?”

Yizhuo stood up and pecked your lips while jerking your needy cock. “And hot…so hot”

You pulled her closely by the waist and attacked her lips with passion, all the anger and hatred flying out the window.

Another groan left your lips as Yizhuo stroked your cock faster, her other hand exploring the bumps of your abs that shined from the water.

“Y/n, I need your cock inside my pussy…please I’m so fucking horny” Yizhuo whined.

“Hmmm, if you turn around and show that pretty pussy then maybe I’ll even cum inside you”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She was already following orders and faced her back towards you to bend forward, a hand on each ass cheek to spread them apart and present both holes.

“I like you when you’re not being a bitch. Should I fuck you all the time just so you can be nice to me? Hm?”

Yizhuo felt you rub your fat tip around her slippery pussy before slowly pushing inside. And to your surprise, she was tight.

“Fuck Ning, I thought all those dicks you talked about fucked you loose enough”

“Mmmh! Holy shit you’re so big Y/n!…T-Too fucking big!”

You chuckled breathlessly. “Ah is that why? My dick is the biggest you’ve ever had?”

Yizhuo wanted to tell you to stop being so arrogant but you weren’t wrong. Your length and girth were nothing compared to the other people she’s slept with, and she’s already fallen hard enough to be addicted.

You melted into the pleasurable feeling of Yizhuo’s cunt sucking you in like a vacuum. She was taking all of you like a good girl, pushing her ass back while you pounded into her.

The wet slapping noises were echoing off the walls and the sudden thought of being caught by someone increased Yizhuo’s horniness by a million.

“Hah…oh my fucking god you feel so good, beautiful” You growled, sending Yizhuo into another fit of surprise.

“Y/n! I love your cock so much, baby”

“Yeah and it’ll be the only cock you love”

Your hand snaked over Yizhuo’s shoulder to hold onto her neck, forcing her up so her back kissed your front, all while you were still impaling your cock inside her. “You were made for this dick, weren’t you beautiful?”

Yizhuo nodded and gasped from your fingers finding her swollen clit. You rubbed it deliciously, it got the shorter rolling her eyes back, lips parted as she held onto you. You were exploring the curves of Yizhuo’s goddess-like body, paying special attention to her gorgeous breasts as much as you played with her clit.

She was getting unbearably tighter. Your cock suffocating from her gummy walls, nearing you to your orgasm. Clearly Yizhuo was on the same boat, her sentences slurring into babbles, crying out your name.

“Mmm Y/n, Y/n, Y/n! Please cum inside me! I can’t take it anymore!”

“You’re making me insane, Ning Yizhuo” You growled and bit her earlobe.

“Please-fuck ah! I’m cumming, holy shit I’m cumming!” Yizhuo threw her head back on your shoulder, shaking violently in your embrace as you continued destroying her from behind.

“You ready for my cum, pretty face? Will my cum filling your pussy make you happy?” You muttered into her neck, already marking your territory with dark purple splotches all over her pale skin.

A couple more profanities left your mouth before softly biting on Yizhuo’s shoulder, fully thrusting up to explode your cum all over her walls.

Yizhuo felt so amazingly full. She pushed her lower stomach and smiled when she felt the cum squirt out her pussy. You were resting your forehead onto her, trying to catch your breath and also process what the fuck just happened.

You went from hating this girl to cumming inside her pussy in your school’s showers.

“Yizhuo…please…please don’t say anything to anyone. I’m asking nicely”

She turned her head and placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek. “Don’t saying anything about your cock or you fucking me?”

“Uh my cock, obviously”

“Oh baby, the only reason I won’t say anything is so other bitches won’t get in on this big dick of yours. Let me establish that you’re mine now” Yizhuo smiled.

“I’m yours? Like your girlfriend or a dick appointment?”

“Take me out on a date and then we can talk about that girlfriend thing”

You shrugged. “Fine. Whatever”

Then let’s say you spent another two rounds after that…You weren’t one to go late to class, but here you were filling up Ning Yizhuo again and again.

A/N: I ALMOST got equal votes for the Mafia au, so don’t worry my honeys. You will get a second Yizhuo fic soon ;)

[wonlvures]

A QUIET CONNECTION — YOO JIMIN (PT.1)

PAIRING: Girlfriend!Karina x Girlfriend!reader

GENRE: fluff, romance

SYNOPSIS: Y/N, lost in a book, unexpectedly meets Karina, and through a shared conversation about the escape found in art—whether through stories or music—a gentle connection forms between them, leading to the promise of more moments together, as both women realize this fleeting encounter could be the start of something meaningful.

The café was quiet, the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, and the world outside felt distant. Y/N sat by the window, her fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee, her eyes glued to the pages of the book in her hands. She had always loved this café for the calm it provided—no rush, no noise, just the soft hum of background music and the occasional sound of a barista calling out an order.

She’d come here often, escaping into her stories as the outside world faded away. Today was no different—until the door opened and a new presence caught her attention.

Karina stood just inside, scanning the room. She was tall, with long, dark hair that framed her face, and a certain quiet intensity about her that immediately caught Y/N’s eye. She had that kind of presence—something subtle but magnetic. Y/N couldn’t help but watch her for a moment as she looked around for a seat.

Their eyes met for a brief second, and Y/N quickly looked back at her book, feeling a strange flutter in her chest. She wasn’t the type to get distracted easily, but there was something about this woman that seemed to draw her in.

Karina hesitated, then, almost as if on instinct, she walked over to Y/N’s table.

“Hey,” Karina said softly, her voice a little tentative, “Is this seat taken?”

Y/N looked up, startled for a moment, but then she saw the warm smile on Karina’s face and felt an unexpected calm wash over her. “No,” Y/N said quickly, smiling back. “You’re good. Please, sit down.”

Karina hesitated for just a moment longer before sliding into the seat across from her. She ordered a coffee from the counter, then returned to the table, settling in with a quiet, almost shy energy.

Y/N found herself watching her again, curious about this stranger who had just appeared in her little world. There was a softness to Karina’s features, but also something unspoken—like there was more beneath the surface. Something familiar. Something that made Y/N’s heart beat a little faster, though she couldn’t explain why.

Karina seemed to feel the same kind of quiet pull. She glanced at Y/N’s book, her eyes lingering for a moment before she spoke again. “What are you reading?” Her voice was gentle, like she was testing the waters, unsure of how to start.

Y/N glanced down at the book in her hands and smiled. “It’s just a novel I’ve read a few times,” she said. “It’s one of those stories that pulls you in, you know? Like, you can’t stop reading once you start.”

Karina’s eyes lit up with interest. “I get that,” she said, her gaze now fully on Y/N. “I love music for the same reason. It’s like I get lost in it, and everything else just fades away.”

Y/N found herself nodding, her fingers lightly tapping the rim of her coffee cup. “Yeah, exactly. I think that’s why people love art—whether it’s books or music or something else. It’s like you get to leave everything behind and just exist in that moment.”

The conversation felt easy, natural. They weren’t strangers anymore; in those few moments, a quiet understanding had formed between them. Karina seemed to relax, her posture softening as she leaned in slightly.

“Do you read a lot?” Karina asked, genuinely curious. Her voice was softer now, more personal.

Y/N shrugged. “I guess you could say that. Reading is like my escape. I love stories where I can get lost in someone else’s world. It’s like a break from everything that’s real.”

Karina smiled, the warmth of it reaching her eyes. “I get that,” she said again, her voice low and thoughtful. “I think that’s why I play guitar. It’s my way of feeling... connected, I guess. Like when the music flows, everything else just falls away, and it’s like I’m part of something bigger.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the way Karina spoke—so open, so sincere. It wasn’t often that people shared things like that so easily. But with Karina, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“You play guitar?” Y/N asked, her voice soft with interest.

Karina nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I’ve been playing for years. It’s... the one thing that’s always made sense to me.”

Y/N felt a spark of connection, something deeper than just a casual conversation. She wanted to know more. “I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she said before she could stop herself.

Karina’s eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in surprise. “You’d want to hear me play?”

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady but soft. “I think it would be amazing. I’ve always loved music, but I’ve never really learned an instrument. There’s something about the way it can make you feel like everything else is just... background noise.”

Karina’s expression softened, a flush creeping into her cheeks. She looked down for a moment, clearly flustered by the compliment, but when she looked back up at Y/N, there was a warmth in her eyes that made Y/N’s heart race.

“I’d love that,” Karina said, her voice barely a whisper. “I think... maybe I’ll even write something for you.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full. “I’d really like that.”

The conversation between them shifted into quieter moments. The air around them felt charged with a quiet energy, something unspoken that hung between them like a secret. Karina and Y/N both felt it—the pull, the connection, the way everything around them seemed to disappear when they were together.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden light across the café, Y/N’s eyes fluttered to the clock. It was getting late. She didn’t want to leave, but she knew she had to.

“So, um,” Y/N said, biting her lip nervously. “Would you maybe want to do this again? Grab coffee sometime?”

Karina’s heart fluttered, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’d really like that,” she said softly. “More than you know.”

They both stood up, reluctant to end the moment, but neither of them wanting to overstay it either. The world outside seemed a little less intimidating now, a little more inviting. There was a promise in the air—an unspoken understanding that this was just the beginning.

“See you soon?” Y/N asked, her voice low, almost shy now.

Karina nodded, her smile gentle and warm. “Definitely.”

As they parted ways that evening, both women walked away with the same thought: This was just the beginning.

[baelabong]

𝖡𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾

—————————————————————————

Pairing: glp Karina x fem!reader

Note: sequel to twisted devotion

Warning: emotional?! No protection (wrap it up yall) crying rina, asshole y/n, mentions of ningning

Word count: 1.3k

—————————————————————————

“A-anything! I’ll do anything!”, Jimin pleaded with doe eyes staring down into your own

You almost scoff in amusement but instead your smile faltered, loving the way she was so pathetic for you.

Leaning up and just grazing your lips over her ears, your hot breath fanning on her skin making the hairs at the back of her neck rise, you say with a small whisper

“Then fuck me”, with a small smile you pull back with an innocent expression

Nodding her head eagerly like a little kid, she presses herself closer against you as you reach down her boxers grabbing her limp dick. Ss if on cue, her dick hardened under your touch, your eyes widening in amusement.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this monster from me for so long, rina”, she shuts her eyes, suppressing back a moan from your own words

Grabbing her face with your free hand, you harshly grab her chin forcing her to open her eyes and look at you. The sight of Jimin with lidded eyes made you so wet you almost lost your patience and wanted her to fuck you.

But no. Letting out an amused chuckle you whisper a small “pathetic” while giving her that same innocent look in your eyes.

“Fuck me Jimin. Fuck me so hard I can’t walk”

An idea entering your mind you smash your lips against hers, tiptoeing to reach her tall figure, almost making the two of you fall back against the bed.

You pull away breathlessly and say

“Fuck me … like how Ningning fucks me”

In that moment, Karina's eyes darkened, a fierce possessiveness taking over her usually gentle demeanor. The mention of Ningning ignited something primal within her, and her grip on your hips tightened. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered in a low, commanding tone.

"You're mine tonight. Only mine."

With a swift motion, she lifted you up effortlessly, carrying you over to the bed and laying you down gently but with a sense of urgency. Her hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as if she was trying to memorize the feel of your skin. The intensity of her touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the anticipation building within you.

Karina's lips found yours again, this time more fervently, her kiss filled with a mix of desire and determination. Her hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body and pulling away any barriers between you. She took a moment to admire you, her eyes drinking in the sight of you laid bare before her.

"You’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice husky with need.

She positioned herself above you, her gaze locking with yours. The connection between you felt electric, a current of longing and passion flowing between you. Karina's hand moved to guide herself, her eyes never leaving yours as she entered you slowly, inch by inch, savoring the sensation.

Your back arched, a moan escaping your lips as she filled you completely. The feeling of her inside you, combined with the intensity of her gaze, made you feel more connected than ever. Karina began to move, her thrusts deep and deliberate, each one eliciting a gasp from you.

"Tell me how it feels," she demanded, her voice a mix of authority and tenderness.

"So good," you managed to say between breaths, your hands gripping the sheets as she increased her pace.

Karina's movements became more urgent, driven by both the desire to please you and the need to assert her dominance. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to her every touch.

"You're mine," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

The intensity of her words and the relentless pleasure she was giving you pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Karina followed soon after, her own release a powerful testament to the connection you shared.

As you both lay there, breathless and spent, Karina pulled you close, her arms wrapped protectively around you. The fierceness in her eyes had softened, replaced by a tender affection.

"You're mine," she whispered once more, her lips brushing against your forehead. "And I love you."

You smiled, feeling a profound sense of contentment. "I love you too, Jimin."

Karina’s embrace tightened around you, her breathing slowly evening out. But the spark of desire in her eyes hadn’t diminished. She shifted slightly, her lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

“I need you again,” she whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with emotion. “I need to show you how much I love you.”

You nodded, your own desire reigniting at her words. Karina moved over you once more, her touch gentle yet insistent. She guided herself back inside you, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. This time, there was a softness in her actions, a vulnerability that made your heart ache with affection.

As Karina thrust into you, tears began to well up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. The sight of her so emotional, so open, only made you love her more.

“You’re everything to me,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, and kissed her tears away, your lips brushing gently against her damp skin. “I’m not going anywhere, Jimin. I’m right here with you.”

Karina’s pace quickened, the urgency in her movements matched by the raw emotion in her eyes. Each thrust was a declaration of her love, a promise of her devotion. You could feel her trembling, her tears mixing with the sweat on her skin.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please, just stay with me.”

“I will,” you assured her, your hands sliding down her back, holding her close. “I’ll always be with you.”

Karina’s tears continued to fall, her sobs mingling with the sounds of your lovemaking. The intensity of her emotions fueled her movements, driving her to bring you both to the edge once more. As you felt yourself nearing climax, you held her tighter, wanting to give her everything you had.

With a final, shuddering thrust, Karina pushed you both over the edge. Your orgasms hit simultaneously, a powerful wave of pleasure and emotion crashing over you. She collapsed onto you, her body wracked with sobs, and you held her close, whispering soothing words in her ear.

“It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmured, kissing her tear-streaked face. “I’m here. I love you.”

Karina’s sobs slowly subsided, her breathing evening out as she clung to you. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “More than anything.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the woman in your arms. “We’re in this together, Jimin. Always.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that no matter what challenges you faced, your love for each other would always see you through. And in that moment, with Karina’s tears still fresh on your lips, you felt an unbreakable bond between you.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Down Bad 💜 PJM (Part 1)

Kissing you was not on the agenda, and it threw him off. How the fuck was he supposed to let go of you now?

PAIRING: Vampire!Jimin x human(f)reader

SUMMARY: You find the cure to your clumsiness in becoming Jimin’s dance partner. But twirling in his arms risks more than just your heart, especially after he bites you.

WORD COUNT: 18.7k (Total: 31.5 k)

GENRE:  Soulmates AU, angst, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: typical vampire-related warnings (blood, biting, scents, feral moments), arguing, fighting, graphic depictions of cuts, bites, and wounds (including blood), angst, multiple smut scenes (unprotected sex), including praise kink, oral (f rec), penetrative sex, pleading, bit of a dom!Jimin

A.N. Here we have it, my Christmas gift this year. For some reason, I've been... unexpectedly insecure about my writing, so this story was somewhat... more difficult to perfect than usual. I'd like to thank @downbad4yoongi, @pars-ley, @colormepurplex2 and @hisunshiine for working through it with me and helping me reach this final version - by far the most fleshed-out and intriguing, even if it became huge. Also thank you to @itaeewon for the beautiful banner! This is my entry in the upcoming @bangtanwritershq 4th Quarter Writing Event: Monster Mash!

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“Hey! Good to see you!”

You smiled at Jung Hoseok and adjusted the strap of your gym bag on your shoulder with a small smile. His pearly whites showed a gorgeous smile that once wouldn’t have had you wondering how he hid his nature so well.

“He’s already here in the backroom with a few other contestants,” Hoseok continued as he circled the reception counter of his gym to reach you. “Do you need help with anything? Need to change?”

“Changed at home,” you replied quietly, motioning the hands still inside the pockets of your closed coat. It was freezing outside due to the snow, and you still didn’t have the guts to open it up. Your toes were blueish from the chill, and you wiggled them a little; maybe you shouldn’t have put on your open-toed heels before coming.

“Alright, good.” He nodded affably before raising his hand in the direction of the corridor you knew so well. Still, he walked side by side with you, intending to escort you. “How was your Christmas?”

You told him about your grandmother’s wailing, entirely compensated by her delicious cooking, and how you helped your sister with your baby nephew. “He just looks at me with such wide eyes, and I instantly feel like a fraud, you know?”

You huffed, a bit discouraged, as Hoseok laughed and pushed the door open. 

“There she is.” Taehyung grinned, skipping in your direction. He was the image of tall perfection, hiding a soft teddy bear personality underneath his dazzling eyes and handsome features. Some were just born like this, and you doubted his nature was the only reason for it. “I thought you might get cold feet.”

“My feet are pretty cold,” you mumbled, looking down, and he chuckled, eying Hoseok, who was smiling too.

“Are you ready?”

Taehyung towered over you as he stood by your side and waved Hoseok away, and the strain on your neck from looking up reminded you of how this was supposed to be different. How you had been excited about this moment for a year; trained, planned, dreamt of it… Only for it to turn out so different. 

Only for that uncomfortable strain to make you grimace slightly and press your fingers into the back of your neck. “Yeah, let’s warm up.”

You let him guide you across the room, then put your bag down and draped your coat over a chair, revealing your red, sparkling dress that ended just above your knee. You had to rub your arms for some warmth, and Taehyung waited for you without touching you, and you appreciated him for it. You knew he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate, but…

You sighed and raised your arms, signaling you were ready, and he grabbed your hand. He spun you a few times to loosen you up, then pulled you closer to start what you instinctively assumed were a few of your Cha-cha-cha choreography moves. 

It wasn’t enough to pull your thoughts away from the pit they invariably fell back into. Taehyung wasn’t the problem; he had always been respectful and treated you with utmost care. Jimin picked him after everything that happened, and you trusted his judgement. After all, Jimin—

You were twirled across the dance floor, spinning beautifully with your delicate arms floating at your sides as you were supposed to, but then you gasped. Your heels didn't find purchase on the floating wood floor; you were spinning too fast. You couldn’t discern Taehyung in the blur around you nor call out to him, overwhelmed as you were. Your arms flailed, further taking you off course, and suddenly, a smear of a reflection caught your eye right before your right side collided with an immovable object. Whatever you smashed into sent you sprawling on the floor in an unceremonious heap.

You groaned and closed your eyes to avoid the wave of nausea that threatened to sweep over you, then felt a few shattered glass pieces falling from above you like a short drizzle. For a second, you were too dazed to comprehend what just happened. But then you winced and sat up, feeling countless prickling sensations all over your leg, arm, shoulder, and even your cheek.

You winced as something sharp dug into your skin, and you turned your palm up. Dusting off whatever debris and mirror glass had bothered you there made you aware of the big glass shard nestled into your arm's soft flesh.

Someone kneeled beside you, but you didn’t hear them. Your first instinct was to remove the foreign body from your arm, and as the glass clinked on the floor, you gasped.

“Shit!” You were surprised, pressing your palm to your arm to stop the torrent of dark crimson blood.

It dripped between your fingers, and you looked up, searching for help, but what you found cooled you to the bone. Taehyung had shifted back, still on his knees, and one look into his eyes told you everything you needed to know before your eyes drifted across the other contestants. Some were the same as him, hence why they were frozen, unnaturally static as they observed you.

Your eyes turned back to Taehyung; he winced, and that was good enough for you.

You jumped to your feet with as much speed as you could muster, regardless of pain, and stormed out of there without bothering to look back. Sounds of struggle still reached your ears before the heavy doors closed behind you, but you kept running down the hallway. People would stop to look at you; some were frozen inside their classes or in the machines room, and so you kept running with fear gripping your heart. You couldn’t tell how they were looking at you, seeing that there were one-way mirrors between you. No one should know you were on this side, running, and yet there they were, with their eyes fixed on your rushing form. It made your stomach twist, and suddenly, it felt as though everyone was the predator, with only you left as the prey.

You rushed for the exit but quickly realized by the looks of the people you crossed along the way that you’d never make it. You knew what the sting of a bite felt like, but at that time you were elated, in love; this would be different. You were safe with Jimin, no matter what he said, but he wasn't here. He left you, and those were different. 

This would be the death of you.

So, in a last-ditch effort, you swerved left and disappeared behind a door that said, Staff Only. You raced down the stairs and reached the basement, where a boiler room lay quietly under the purr of plenty of machines. You didn’t care how dark and damp it was; you used your whole strength and body weight to push the old, stuck metal door closed, then pulled the lever into place so the door would be locked.

Your heart raced inside your chest louder than the machines, and as your breathing calmed, you considered if maybe your reaction was disproportionate.

But then a smack to the door, what sounded like someone trying to push it open, startled you into jumping away from it. You could swear you heard hisses and growls, though who knew over the noise? Still, you backed away to the opposite corner and sat on the floor, curling your knees to your chest, and fought the tears as you pressed your wound again.

You had no idea how to get yourself out of this one. Maybe a friendly vampire would come to get you out.

14 months earlier

“Take my hand.”

Jiyu’s voice from above made you sniffle and look around. The waiter you collided harshly with was already sitting up and apologizing profusely while he stayed on his knees to collect the glass and porcelain shards all over the floor. A few colleagues of his were helping him and while the manager tried apologizing to you, and Jiyu smiled and reassured her, you kept your eyes low.

The entrance bell chimed with the old lady you had dodged leaving the café slowly, and your eyes fell on the treacherous step responsible for the whole ordeal.

“Hey,” Jiyu called your name, drawing your attention to her hand. You finally took it and allowed her to pull you to stand. “Are you burned?”

You looked down; besides the brown stains and whipped cream on your white blouse, you were fine.

“I’m not, it’s fine.”

She nodded, a sigh of relief crossing her lips quietly, before she ran a hand through her long, black hair. “This can't continue. I mean it,” she insisted when you scoffed playfully. This was your daily life; you were too clumsy to take two steps without tripping. “I don't think you'll survive me moving out.”

“I’ll be fine,” you retorted automatically.

You knew of her worries about you, but it was becoming silly. Sure, you were the type to collide with waiters, almost get run over by bikes, and constantly have things go wrong. But that didn’t mean Jiyu should not move in with her fiancé just to stay by your side.

After a million apologies from both the waiter and you, Jiyu finally opened the door for you to exit into the early evening ahead of her. The bell chimed above her head, and she said, “You know what? You’re coming with me.”

“Where?” you asked curiously.

“My Zumba class,” she revealed as she laced her arm with yours.

You were effectively dragged with her. “No, I’m— I’m not good at it and— I’m not sporty like you and—”

“Maybe that’s the problem!”

Her humor didn’t resonate with you as you both crossed the street to make your way to your apartment. “But I have nothing to wear!”

She snorted, “But I do.” She could feel your shoulders squaring as you walked stiffly beside her, and she poked you with her elbow. “Come on, it will be fun! I promise!”

When two hours later your ass met the floor for the fourth time that day, you groaned and knew it would be blue and sore in the morning. You were confused, not about sitting on the floor, but by the turn of events. Exercising was supposed to help you, but you couldn’t follow the instructor’s directions while moving and making sure to stay in your assigned spot. Jiyu was next to you and tried helping, but you stumbled over your own feet. Not even she could save you from yourself.

And her worried eyes as she reached out to check on you only made you feel worse.

“Maybe you should rest a bit.”

You accepted the instructor's hand to get back on your feet and left the room, hearing them resume class as you grabbed your things and wandered off to the reception to wait for Jiyu.

“Hey!”

You turned to look at the tall, gentle-smiled man at the reception. Jiyu had called him Hoseok, and he was very nice — he owned the place and let you try the class for free.

“Shouldn’t you be in class? It’s not eight yet.” He checked the clock on the wall behind him before turning back to you with raised eyebrows above inquisitive eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“I just… I’m no use,” you confessed with tearing eyes and a quivering chin. You were tired and sad, and Jiyu was probably disappointed besides worried.

“What? Nonsense! How about coffee? Come with me.”

You normally wouldn’t have gone, but you were feeling so low that it was easy to drag your feet behind him into a new hallway. He was cheerful and comforted you the whole time as he took you to the staff break room, even taking your arm to pull you out of the way of a door that abruptly opened across the hall.

He sat down with you after pouring you both coffees, and as you explained your plight to him, he listened attentively.

“Hmmm,” he mused. “Jiyu had the right idea, but to start by attending an advanced Zumba class was not the right move. But dancing is definitely the way to go — it will strengthen your core muscles and help you with your coordination. How about private classes?”

You looked down at your half-drunk coffee and sulked further. “I don’t know.” You remembered the look on the waiter’s face, and your shoulders slumped. “How can I do that to them?”

“Who? The dance instructor?” Hoseok burst out laughing before giving you a gorgeous grin. “Don’t worry. He’s perfectly equipped to handle it. In fact, I know just the one. He can do miracles.”

He kept selling this trainer to you, mentioning the many dance competitions he had won and how he was the gentlest, most patient soul, having worked so hard to be such a good dancer, and eventually, you nodded. Your sad eyes raised to meet his, and you gritted your teeth in determination; you could do it. He was a professional, after all, and you wanted to fix this annoying trait about yourself.

A week after your first encounter with Hoseok, you were back at the gym for your first class and you were a bit nervous. Jiyu advised you to take comfortable clothes and sneakers, and you even picked an oversized jumper just so you could hide your hands in the sleeves in case you started picking at your nails or the skin surrounding them.

Hoseok walked you to the dance room and kept it casual, reassuring you that this would be great for you, and while you wanted to listen to him, you couldn’t. The most stunningly handsome man had just entered the room with the gentlest smile as he neared you both, and you forgot how to breathe. He talked about something with Hoseok, and you kept blinking up at him, mesmerized. He raked his fingers through dark, lush strands of hair to pull them out of equally dark eyes of such an intensity that your heart skipped a beat. And yet, while his eyes and beauty were off the charts, his smile was dazzling, gentle, and warm. Everything about him glowed grace and delicateness, especially as his soft hair fell over his eyes as he crouched, searching for something inside a duffel bag nearby. You couldn’t stop looking at him and wondered if you’d be so lucky to have him.

“Oh, this is Jimin,” Hoseok said apologetically, probably noticing you were lost. “He’ll be your instructor this evening.”

Jimin glanced at you and smiled, and your stomach did cartwheels, hitching your breath. Something warm made you flush as you shuddered from head to toe with a single thought in your head — him close, eyes closed, kissing you and nuzzling you like you were his whole world.

He got up, giving something to Hoseok, and you blinked, rubbing your cheeks in an effort to ground yourself. Those thoughts were completely inappropriate and—

“What’s your name?”

You peered up at him and stammered your name out.

He simply smiled again and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

You grabbed his hand with your eyes transfixed on his, and Hoseok raised an eyebrow beside you, shaking his head softly.

“You’re set, have an amazing time! And don’t be hard on yourself. You’re only just starting.”

Those last words as the door closed behind him broke your trance away and made you swallow dryly. Even then, you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Jimin.

“He’s right.” Jimin smiled to put you at ease, but his next words made your stomach twist with nervousness. “I’ve heard you’re a bit clumsy.”

“That’s an understatement,” you mumbled instantly, and he smirked.

“Let’s see, shall we? I’ll turn the music on.”

You bit the inside of your lip as you tried to focus on his instructions, but it was hard. The fear of messing up was too great; you felt like a kid on the first day of school.

You should have known your clumsiness would have flared even harder in the presence of an instructor; you were as good as cursed. Tripping on your suddenly untied shoelaces after not even ten steps into the warm-up routine was just devastating.

At least until Jimin laughed and picked you up from the floor by pulling your hands. “Oh, I see. This is going to be fun.”

Your big eyes looked up at him in wonder, but then he kneeled, turning his gaze down so he could tie your shoes for you. Your cheeks flushed even more as you stammered quiet thank yous, and in a flash, he was done. 

He smiled contentedly at you. “Ready?”

You hurried to get back in position by his side, and everything got back on track. That was possibly the first time you didn’t feel embarrassed or apologetic for tumbling down. On the contrary, you wanted to laugh it out, too. 

When the class ended, you felt quite good about yourself. You were tired and sweaty, but your smile was as big as his. You couldn’t recall his words of encouragement throughout, or the amount of times you tripped or stumbled, only that you were dead set on feeling like that again. Especially by his side.

Hoseok entered the room not long after the music stopped. He found Jimin toweling his face as you drank water and seemed pleased. “So?”

Jimin looked at you, giving you a subtle nod to share your thoughts, and you tried not sounding as eager as you felt, “I liked it…”

Hoseok nodded as though he expected more information, and glancing at Jimin, he caught the hint of a hidden smile disappearing under the towel. “Alright… so, second class?”

“Sounds good,” Jimin agreed, putting the towel over his shoulders and hanging onto it. “In two days?”

You nodded as unenthusiastically as you could and, after settling a few details, left the two men to go home. 

*****

Hoseok turned to Jimin as soon as you walked out the door and asked again, “How was it?”

Jimin’s eyes were still on the door. His silence made Hoseok tilt his head, intrigued by the weird turn of events. Your reaction to Jimin wasn’t entirely implausible — Jimin was undeniably charming; it was only natural to stare and drool. But Jimin’s reaction to you was odd. Why would he ask your name when Hoseok had already told him? Not to mention, Jimin was not the type to get close to his students. He was not touchy with them and was usually distanced and professional — so why would he choose to take your hand rather than just to bow? The way he lingered with that connection while looking at you was all the weirder, but it continued even now that you had left, with his eyes fixed on the door as though he could still see you walking away behind it.

Jimin finally licked his lips and grabbed his bag. “She’s…”

Jimin seemed distracted while he searched for words and Hoseok tried helping, “Clumsy—”

“A ray of—”

Hoseok’s eyebrows twitched in surprise. “What?”

Jimin began walking away, and it seemed to Hoseok like he wanted to escape that conversation. 

So he followed him. “Hey, if you’re uncomfortable because she’s—”

“No,” Jimin’s reply was instant as he stopped to face his hyung. “She’s just… the clumsiest ray of sunshine I’ve ever seen.”

Hoseok nodded slowly. “It’s not often we get to see that…”

Jimin’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing else, and Hoseok let him go. Both knew he was not just talking about the sun, but whatever else was happening, Jimin preferred to stay quiet.

12 months earlier

So you started your tri-weekly meet-ups. You appreciated Jimin agreeing always to have the class at the same time after dinner, which made it easier for you with work. No matter how many times you tripped on your feet or lost your balance from a simple side step, you didn’t give up. His hand catching you every time before you could get hurt was surely a reason for you to not hold back, but even as it became less necessary, you found he was always there, supporting you however you needed.

It started fun and cheeky, back when he still needed to catch you multiple times per lesson. Two months later, he still occasionally teased you about your stiff Hip Hop moves but never made you feel bad about yourself. On the contrary, he smirked every time you needed him and eyed you in this way that always warmed your cheeks, especially when an arm circled your waist or a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“I’m going back to my hometown to visit my family for Christmas, so this is our last lesson of the year.” You smiled just as he stopped the music.

He returned to you with a gentle nod. “That sounds fun.”

You scoffed playfully, “Hardly. My older sister is pregnant, so I have no drinking buddy for New Year's Eve.”

He smirked as you put everything inside your duffel bag and got out a thin jacket. “Maybe you need a new one.” You put the jacket on despite still feeling so hot, and increasingly so; was he offering? “How about dancing with somebody new?”

You physically recoiled but disguised it as just adjusting the jacket before you grabbed your thick winter coat. “And risk stepping on their feet? No, thanks.”

“What if they want you to?”

You looked at him quizzically, and he raised his hands, beckoning you closer.

Your heartbeat still quickened whenever he’d look at you with that playful smile dancing on his lips, and as usual, you took his hand, letting him have his way.

He pulled you closer, causing you to lose your balance and step on his foot. You gasped, about to apologize and pull back, but he grinned and pulled your hand to force your balance to shift. Your foot pressed into his harder as your other foot raised from the floor, and he pulled you flush to his chest. Your other hand pressed to his firm chest, making you huff and look up. All that awaited you was a gentle smile and sparkling eyes. Then his eyebrows raised playfully, and you gasped.

You were floating. No, you were hovering. Your feet rested on his, lulling you to a mimicry of a slow dance. His arms stayed around your waist, supporting your back gently, and you looked up at him again with stars in your eyes. That was the first time you danced with someone.

The holidays came and went, as did the stroke of midnight, without a dance or a kiss in sight, but you didn’t want them. Jimin just chuckled when you revealed the lack of a dancing partner on those occasions, hence no reason to dance, but you had sheepishly shrugged. You didn’t want to dance with anyone else.

You realized you harbored feelings for your dance instructor. Almost three months into your classes, it was hard not to. Your sister noticed something was up; you were at ease with her and uninterested in partying, and she tried poking you, but you had nothing to say. Jiyu had suspicions, and once you told her the truth of the matter, she had just sighed. She had moved out with a clear conscience since you were at significantly less risk of injuring yourself, but now she was worried about something else.

“It’s harmless, innocent, I promise,” you told her when you visited her to see her new place.

“I just don’t like the power dynamic… You pay him to teach you, and he has a role of authority.”

“So… you’re saying he’d never look at me twice if he wasn’t paid to and that he has power over me because he can dance better than me?”

She huffed in frustration, “You know exactly what I mean.”

You shrugged. “You may be right on the first part—”

“That’s not what I—”

“— but it doesn’t change anything. I’m not paying him to go on dates with me. Nothing is ever going to happen, I know that.”

It hurt you a little bit to admit that, but you were at peace with it. You thought there was no harm in your crush until you realized that every week of improvement brought the inevitable end to your classes. Of course, he would have better things to do than spend three hours a week with you. After all, being less clumsy did not make you a worthy dance partner for such a fantastic professional.

But to your surprise, he suggested something else once you could do Zumba, Hip Hop, and Cize.

“I want us to try this,” he suggested with his bottom lip between his teeth as he showed you a colorful poster. It featured a couple entwined in a dance, and reading it, you gasped.

“What?”

“It’s a regional competition of Latin dance styles. I’d like us to participate.”

You widened your eyes at him. “I can’t do that!”

“Would I have suggested it if I didn’t know you could?”

His intense dark eyes felt like a caress down your neck, and you sighed. “If you think so…”

“I know so.” He put down the poster, and you shrugged.

“I guess we can try—”

He grabbed your hands and pulled you closer. “We can do it. We have the whole year to train.”

Your heart was beating so fast, flushed to his chest again while looking up at him. Naively, you thought maybe he also didn’t want the lessons to end. He surely didn’t have to be so enthusiastic about it, telling you all about his ideas for the competition. He had so many ideas, he had already taken notes of some choreography moves he wanted to train with you and the styles he thought would suit you best. Jimin was excited about spending the next year training with you, and it made you smile.

10 months earlier

“Ugh, it’s just no use!”

You pushed yourself off Jimin and turned away with annoyance gritting your teeth. Your dress swooshed around you as the taps that always accompanied your steps made you cringe, and even Jimin's soft voice didn’t make it go away.

“Stop worrying about it.”

“I can’t!”

You couldn’t even face him; you didn’t want him to see your tears of frustration.

“Why not?”

He respected your need for space, staying exactly where you left him, and you bit your tongue.

One of Jimin’s worst ideas was for you to wear heels to every class from the moment you agreed to the competition. He said it was necessary, otherwise you’d have different mindsets attached to different shoes, and you believed him, but damn. You struggled to get used to it; you felt the looming threat of falling more sharply than ever before, even months later. 

He caught you every time, of course, but you kept stepping on him like just now and it just unnerved you. You weren’t good enough to dance by his side, to be by his side, to—

A sob shook you silently, and you looked at the ceiling so you wouldn’t cry. “I’ll just embarrass you.”

His chuckle from behind you shook you more than his touch on your arm as he spun you around.

“You won’t. You’ll be perfect.” His smile was dazzling as his hands settled back on your waist, and heat emerged on your cheeks instantly. 

You couldn’t help it, no matter how many times he had pulled you close to him like that in the last couple of months. It was part of the routine, of course, but your silly, palpitating heart didn’t know better. 

He tapped your temple with a fingertip. “You’re so much better than you think you are.”

You stared at him with stars in your eyes and thought for the hundredth time how it was impossible not to have a crush on him. 

“Let’s go again, come on. Ready?” He smiled softly like he always did before resuming the lesson, and you nodded, also accepting it was all it would ever be. A silly crush on your dance instructor turned dance partner.

As you let him twirl you around as he pleased with every new step of the choreography you were training, trusting him wholeheartedly, you considered that he didn’t make it any easier for you. He didn’t have to tease you about the perks of wearing heels — you could finally reach his chin — or about how you spun so beautifully into his arms. He made a point of saying it, praising you every time you twirled and landed softly back into his arms, and you had to remind yourself constantly that he was just doing his job.

Jimin always held you and spun you like the world was that room, making you feel confident and beautiful, at least until your thoughts got in the way. 

You almost tripped with the last step, but he pulled on your hand harder, making sure you landed safely against his chest. He kept you in his arms, both of you winded as you recovered.

He pulled away and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face, trying to look at you, and whispered, “Are you okay?”

You closed your eyes and nodded, always appreciating that contact and closeness more than you probably should. You never said anything about it, even now that he took longer and longer to let you go.

“Let’s repeat that last set,” he finally said as he gently let go of you.

You agreed and glued your eyes to the floor, trying to purge your thoughts so you could focus properly.

He restarted the music a bit before the set he was talking about, then returned to you. “Ready?”

His attentive eyes always made sure you were, and you nodded and raised your hand. He took it, restarting the dance on the right beat after a short countdown.

You were focused, concentrated not only on your feet or the choreography, but also on your balance. Yet, that last move was tricky; you tripped.

He caught you at the last second, his firm grip the only thing between you and the wood floor. Then, he held you to him again, only this time, he fitted your legs around him like a koala bear in his arms.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing your hair away so he could look at you. 

You nodded, not once worried or hurt despite his strength, and rubbed your cheek against his, appreciating his closeness yet again. Suddenly, though, it was gone. A set of plump lips gently brushed your skin instead, tracing your flushed, sweaty cheek, covering you in goosebumps until his lips found yours.

You trembled in his arms, barely believing that feather-like touch was gracing your mouth, but it was as sure as his firm hold on you. It wasn’t an accident or a mishap because he kept going; he brushed your hair aside and kissed your lips softly as though he had wanted to do that for a long time.

You’d never forget the look in his eyes when you pulled away, needing to breathe but, most of all, to believe that it was really happening. His eyes had a fierceness to them, making you wonder about his thoughts: what did he make of this?

A surge of emotions whirled through you as he carried you across the room. He sat down and simply held you on his lap, and that class ended like that — with you both letting that closeness sink in.

7 months earlier

Jimin should never have kissed you, he knew that. Once he did, the truth was out, and it could never be ignored again — his feelings weren’t platonic.

For as long as he held you in that firm embrace afterward, his mind was ravished by thoughts of inevitability and fate. 

At first, he didn’t believe it. He didn’t even know it could happen. He had heard the stories about his kind finding their muses, those special humans one would find in a lifetime whose spirit spoke to a vampire uniquely, but he figured them to be rumors. Dreams ushered by the elders to keep the younglings from going too crazy, in case they happened to touch one such human and make their matching vampire mad.

But then he met you, and certain things just made sense to him. He could never get tired of your stumbles, your scent awoke his senses, and when you moved near him, he just answered in tandem. But what made him certain, despite his initial denial, was that when you smiled, he saw light. Not concrete light, but a glimmer that he had never seen before and that he couldn’t help longing to see again.

He was inspired; he convinced himself the days spent planning your classes and how he could make you shine even more and brighter were due to your improvement, not his need to think about you incessantly. The competition was an excuse to keep working together, and he had given it so much thought and planning, he had most of the choreography figured out before you even said yes.

But then he kissed you, even when he promised himself he didn’t need that, and that he’d stay away for your sake. Of course, beautiful stories about the eternal love between a muse and a vampire were still told, but so were the cautionary tales. Sometimes, things went wrong, be it because of jealousy, unbridled fascination, or tragedy. Undoubtedly, there was always hurt — for the human, whose life would never be the same again, and for the vampire, whose existence would forever spin around one single axis. Once, he thought that was ludicrous. Who’d want that? But now he had met you, and he didn’t want anyone else. The very thought seemed senseless.

But he vowed to stay away from you for your sake — if you never got involved, you’d never have to suffer through such things. You’d never fully step into his world, and you’d be able to live your human life to its full extent.

Kissing you was not on the agenda, and it threw him off. How the fuck was he supposed to let go of you now?

He tried, though. You kept coming to class and, while he was perhaps a bit more attentive than before, he kept the space between you. He focused hard on the choreography, wanting to make sure you’d shine as brightly as he knew you could. It did sadden him that you never mentioned the kiss, but he would never bring it up and make you uncomfortable — seeing you smile as you twirled around was all he needed.

He thought that was all you needed, too, but then you showed him it wasn’t so. In the third class after he had first tasted you, you twirled into his arms as part of the choreography, but then you grabbed his cheeks and crashed your mouths together.

Your kiss was hot and hungry as your hips swiveled together with his, and he lost his mind. He grabbed you closer and groaned into your mouth, desperately drinking every drop of your taste. Even with his eyes closed, he could see light in the darkness, no matter how faint, and the enticement was powerful. The more you kissed him, the more his heart gave in, quickly promising you everything you could ever desire, even if rationally he knew he shouldn’t.

I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t.

That day, as you smiled up at him, he convinced himself that a middle ground was possible  — he could just give.

The intimacy of what you were doing was undeniable, he could recognize that. Dancing like you two did, touching and breathing closely, brought you close. But as he took you on that learning journey with each new step in your routine, he figured he could give you whatever you’d ask and keep himself in check. That way, he’d keep you safe and free and content, and he wouldn’t break his promise.

He started with the Cha-cha-cha choreography as the first dance of the competition. The dance was playful and flirtatious, and you focused very hard on each distinct step so you could claim an unspoken reward — stolen kisses.

Then came the Rumba, with smooth, flowing movements that had your heart beating intensely inside your chest; he could hear it. Every time he pulled you closer and guided your hips close to his, he noticed your blood rushing to your cheeks and who knew where else, deepening your breath. Often, he glued his nose to your cheek or touched your foreheads together as he moved your waist in movements that made his imagination fly, despite his self-castigation. The kisses that followed became fiery hot in time, and although he felt the urge to dive deeper into you every time, he always held back. 

Surprisingly, Tango was the hardest for you. After seeing how you excelled at the others, he thought it would have been easier. Even though he insisted it was all about trust and letting go, the intricate footwork and required precision drove you insane. You had to worry about your feet all the time, and it just didn’t work. You confessed you were a bit overwhelmed, but he wouldn’t give it up. That just meant more training and more time to be close to you.

“Stop worrying,” he said, swinging your bodies around with your chests glued together. “You’ll always land on your feet, or I’ll catch you.”

You swallowed and nodded.

“Keep your back arched, and I’ll spin us.”

With your heart racing, you did before he pulled you firmly back into his arms.

“Raise your leg.” He raised your knee to his waist. “When I pull your hand up like this, it’s your cue to bend back. Our feet are locked, and I’ll grab this leg.” He tapped on your knee around him, “and arm as you reach back to the floor. I have you,” he promised, and you let go slowly.

You didn’t dare bend too far back, but he caught you just as if you had, swaying you for a second before giving you the cue to step away and mirror him.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now close.”

You knew you were supposed to raise your hand and bring it slowly behind his head, gluing your foreheads, and you did, but then you stopped. He did the same, with his eyes focused on yours, not half as winded as you. 

He kept you close and connected, eyes fixed on every line of your face. “That’s it, you’re perfect.”

You couldn’t blush any more than you already had, but you could try and pretend it was just the exertion.

“We’ll get there,” he assured you. “Soon, you’ll be ready for me to raise you high and spin you around.”

You raised your wide eyes. “I can’t do that!”

He smiled. “You can.”

“No!”

“How else am I supposed to show you off?” Your lips parted in shock as he brushed your flushed cheek with all the sweetness in the world. “This is all about you and letting you shine. No one will be able to take their eyes off of you.”

“But I’m not the experienced dancer here,” you whined, confused.

“No, but you are exquisite.” He pressed you harder against him; that close embrace wasn’t enough. “Irresistible, delectable even, and you’ll show it with every move of your hips,” his words were slow, pausing to guide you with a deliberate, deep hip swivel. “Every time your heel touches the floor.” He leaned you back ever the slightest, and the tap echoed loudly in your heart. “And every time you hold your breath, making them all wait…”

He smiled and you blinked, dazzled. Your body was moving, responding to his every push, pull, and subtle shift in weight and pressure. You could be coordinated and sharp if you didn’t think about it. Letting him direct you into raising your leg around him and falling backward, arching your back to the max with tension stretching you from head to toe.

He smiled, pulling you back, and you fell into his arms, his lips finding yours.

You kissed him as passionately, reveling in the way he had sought your kiss for the first time in a while. You didn’t doubt he liked it when you touched him, but you had felt discouraged about being the one always searching for him. After a while, it made you hesitate, wondering if you were stepping over the line and making him uncomfortable, and so that untamed kiss washed away your worries.

Not only that, but it gave you the green light to feel more. You didn’t just want his company, his attention and affection; you wanted to fulfill that tension, that unspoken promise. He wasn’t just showing you that you could dance. He showed you that you could do it — you could dance by his side and be, too.

Your mouths never parted, with tongues sharing desires and heavy breaths never quite deeply enough. You couldn’t care less about breathing, though; you were burning up, gripping his shirt over his shoulders as you ground your hips still pressed to his.

Your back hit the mirror, making you gasp in surprise, yet as he kissed down your jawline and neck, you smiled. It was as though he had finally stopped resisting and touched you like flames licking at your silhouette. One of your legs surrounded him, welcoming his excitement rubbing your core deliciously, and you moaned, ready to ignite.

Only he pulled away and tried to breathe despite your lips on his cheek lowering to his neck.

“I can't.”

He sounded tortured and your blood froze. Your head fell back to the mirror to face him, not hiding the fear taking hold of you at his words. Why couldn’t he—

“No, it’s not that,” he reassured you, whispering as he cupped your cheek. “I just—” He was breathless and lost, and looking into your sparkling eyes, he finally gave in, “Not here. Not like this. It— It wouldn't be right.”

“Come home with me, then.”

Your whisper had him looking into your eyes with a glint of anxiety. “If you’re sure.”

You smiled. “I am.”

*****

That night, you took Jimin home. He hesitated to pass the threshold of your apartment, and you just grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. That simple gesture was enough for him to settle his hands on your waist and his lips on yours.

You weren’t just kissing or stripping as your lips and tongue tasted, your skin rampant with goosebumps and your core wet with need. You were connected; every press of his fingers guided you, while every brush of his plump lips over your exposed skin conveyed secrets. Elation made your heart sing. Your senses were heightened; every whisper shook you, and every graze set you alight.

He let you touch him and explore however you liked, even when your fingers first traced down his neck and onto his shoulders, gripping his muscles through his shirt. His response was instant, pulling you closer, deepening your kiss, urging you with sweet whispers to keep going, and you didn’t hesitate. You pulled every article of clothing from his body greedily, entertaining his kisses while you waited. Anticipation made your heart thrum faster until the last barrier disappeared. 

The white tee shirt fell on your carpeted floor with a muffled sound, contrasting your silent focus. His body was firm, his skin flawless under your gentle touch. You don’t think you had ever felt the urge to touch and know someone like this before, and you blamed it on his perfect body. Why was his chest so smooth, with round dark nipples, while his stomach was delineated with taut muscles on a delicate frame? 

You shook your head and quickly dragged your fingers up his chest to his shoulders to pull him close, falling into a passionate kiss as you placed his hands on the hem of your shirt. He felt slightly cold to the touch, and you wanted to heat him up. Luckily, with the way he followed your kiss, you doubted it would take long. You guided him to your bedroom between kisses, leaving your clothes and inhibitions behind, and parted your lips from his only when you sat on the bed. 

You moved back on your elbows with your eyes on his, offering yourself clearly to him despite the way you were trembling. His eyes drank you up silently, tracing every line and curve of yours so intensely you could feel his scorching gaze. Your nipples perked as your chest heaved under his gaze, aching for him before his eyes trailed lower, below your navel. You weren’t shy about opening your legs more, letting him see how dripping wet you were for him, and that was when you noticed his fists beside his hips, and a raging boner matching the tension on his features.

You raised your hand, ready to coax him to come closer when he seemingly relaxed. He kneeled on the bed and traced down your legs as he settled between them.

“Jimin,” you pleaded, needing him closer.

Yet he simply nuzzled down your inner thigh. “Not yet, little light. This is all about you.”

You whimpered, needing his touch all over you, and as he pecked your delicate skin, you trembled from head to toe in anticipation.

“Slowly,” he whispered, and you squirmed a little. He looked up, only to find your hands taking your breasts in full, squeezing them, and his eyes darkened. “That’s it. Touch them, make yourself feel good.” He traced the back of your thighs with his fingers until he squeezed your ass, making your legs open limply. “So perfect,” he murmured, tracing kisses just a little closer to where you wanted him, but not yet. “I wish I could squeeze all of you at the same time,” he sighed, and looking up, hummed. “Do that again, little light.”

You squeezed your breasts again, and a sensual moan fell from your lips.

“That’s it, so good… pinch them. Come on.” He smiled, grazing his teeth on the junction between your thigh and sex. You trembled and did as he said, pressing your nipples between your fingers, only to hump your hips toward him. He laughed darkly against your skin, sprinkling your mound with kisses. “Good, so good… I want you as wet as can be. What do you think? Should I check?”

You whimpered incoherently as he dragged his lips to your lower ones and parted them with his tongue, letting your slick coat it. His short growl was enough to make you flush, but the way he gripped your ass to pin you down under him made you clench.

You felt his sigh deep inside your core as he lapped his tongue in circles, taking every single drop of sweetness.

“All for me, little light.”

You contained your moans, feeling your face and chest so hot, you thought your very sweat would evaporate. You only noticed the way you were curling into yourself, lost, when he grabbed your hand in his hair to loosen your grip.

“Let me take care of you,” he coaxed, kissing your fingertips before leaning to nuzzle your clit. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It made your heart skip, and you finally laid back down. He placed your hand back on his head with a mischievous smile before diving in again, and you bit your lip, knowing you were melting, just giving him more of what he wanted. You didn’t know why, but the way he reassured you made it so you could relax and forget yourself, focusing simply on the pleasure. His tongue was restless, but his nose on your clit was gentle, almost a tease, as though poking a reaction out of you. You weren’t shy about sighing, moaning, or grazing his scalp gently now, but when he gave your clit a few circular rubs, you started shaking and let out a deep moan.

He kept his touches so light, his kisses so feather-like that you couldn’t help but moan and combust with each new lap. His dark eyes stayed on yours while his pink tongue leaped over you with utmost gentleness and led you down a path where, in the end, you felt like a supernova — a star about to burst and be set free.

Your climax made you moan and shake; you would have forgotten who you were if not for that single point of contact. You searched for him, and he grabbed your hands, instantly giving you the direction you needed. But while he coaxed you gently down to earth, you became anxious.

“I want you,” you breathed, looking down at him, still kissing your inner thighs as if he didn’t intend on leaving that spot.

“You have me, little light.”

“I need you,” you insisted.

“I know, and I'll give you everything you want.”

His tone was losing its lightness, but you were not sated. “Then give me… you,” you sobbed when his lips skimmed your folds, shaking you with a shiver. “Jimin, please.”

He squeezed your hands before latching his lips more firmly to your core, grunting and fluttering his eyes closed, but it wasn’t enough for you. You whimpered his name, pulling his hands to you, and he chuckled, “I’m trying, but—”

“No, you. I need to feel you inside me,” you pleaded, trying your best to describe the urge unsettling you from the inside out. “I'm so empty, I need you, please!”

You only noticed you had managed to pull him over you like a heated blanket when his face was hovering above yours. He cupped your cheeks with a line of worry between his eyebrows. “This is about you.”

“This is about us,” you instantly corrected, also cradling his lovely cheeks. “Please.”

His eyes peered at your features, and his hesitation hurt you. It hurt him, too. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, and he wished he could be truthful with you. You were everything he had ever wanted or ever would; his reluctance to continue was not out of uncertainty of his feelings or lack of desire for you. It was because he didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself with you. He knew what drinking someone drunk on lust tasted like, but they weren’t you. He couldn’t help his curiosity, but he could never endanger you like that. Not without you knowing the risks. On top of it, what if he marked you? Claimed you? He could feel his selfish, untamable urge to do so, to link you to him forever.

But how could he do that without telling you about him? Without changing your life forever? Without revealing that he had been lying to you? That the person you were lying with, who he was, was not what you thought?

“Jimin,” your quiet voice brought him back, and his heart made the decision. He just wanted to erase that deep sadness from your features and show you that with him, you’d never find anything but love.

He kissed you, vowing to himself for the hundredth time that he’d give you everything he could, and never hold you back or hurt you. To seal those promises, he dragged his lips and tongue down your jaw and neck. A whiff of your scent there as your jugular thrummed against his lips made him groan, but he trailed lower to your sternum, promising right to your heart.

You squeezed your breasts around his face and he smiled, obliging your desires. He grabbed them over your hands and nipped at a nipple, appreciating how you writhed under him. Your legs squeezed around his waist, humping your hips as though you could align yourself with him, and it was sweet. It was wild, untempered, and the thought that perhaps you felt as strongly about him as he did about you almost made him adjust so he could join your bodies as one.

But he groaned into your chest as he teased you and reminded himself that this was about you. So he pulled away and lay next to you.

A wave of cold invaded you, making you look at him with worry again. Did he really not want to—

“Get on top of me, little light,” he instructed, extending his hand to you. You eyed it, and he gave you a dazzling smile. “Come on, I want to see you.”

You pressed your lips and took his hand, letting him guide you as he had countless times before. You straddled him just like he asked you, and when his eyes moved down your body, you stayed put. A part of you feared you weren’t to his liking, but the way he drank your every detail, tracing his palms up and down your curves, soothed you quickly. Instead, you let the way he touched you relax you into lowering yourself down his chest.

He kissed you instantly, wanting you to get lost in him. You were easily overwhelmed, shuddering with his curious fingertips tracing your every line. Meanwhile, his lips pecked your cheek and jawline whenever you dared breathe, only to steal your breath away seconds later by kissing you again. This intimate rhythm distracted you enough to let him gently push and pull your waist over him. You found yourself moving in a steady sway, noticing only how it was making you burn and lose yourself when a moan pushed out of your lips.

You broke away from the kiss, noticing under your lowered eyelids how his lips chased yours.

“Good?” he asked, lips peppering every inch of skin they could find as he covered you with hot breaths. “Do you like it, little light?”

You would have smacked his shoulder out of embarrassment, but his hands pressed your hips down the slightest, and your clit on his hard shaft made you moan breathlessly. Your cheeks flushed as you hid in his neck, unable to stop your hips.

He suckled your exposed neck, feeling you exude heat as pleasure overtook your senses. “You’re doing so well,” he cooed, gently brushing your hair away. “You sound about to cum again—”

You froze and pushed away to face him. Despite the heat clouding your judgment, you realized what you were doing — just humping him, using him for your pleasure selfishly. When, in fact, you wanted so much more at that moment.

“Why did you stop?”

He caressed your cheek, and you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” His tone was ever so gentle, even as his brow furrowed. 

You nodded, “I got carried away.”

He smiled, “That’s good.”

You shook your head shyly. “No. I want to feel you, please,” you whispered to his lips, reminding him of what you had requested earlier. 

He sighed and pecked your lips once, cupping your cheeks. “You can do whatever you want, little light. I want to feel you, too.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips before rising to your knees and looking down. You could barely process the perfect body underneath you or the starry eyes looking up at you. Jimin was so perfect, with his smooth muscles matching astonishing features, not to mention his perfect hard cock glistening under you. You rolled your hips, grinding your slit on him just a bit more, and the friction drew a moan out of you as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip.

You grabbed his dick and gave him a few flicks of your wrist, but he was already as hard as can be. He was also the image of pure sin, gripping the sheets as he fought to keep his eyes from rolling back.

“Do you like it? This is what you do to me,” he managed to say with a low groan, and you bit your lip.

“Me?”

“You.” 

His eyes opened to set on yours, and you could instinctively read the hunger behind them. It could have intimidated you, but instead, you brought his cock closer to your entrance as though you finally understood each other. You couldn’t phrase it, but that desire you saw in his eyes was a reflection of your own. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, parting you open to fit with you in ways no one else could, and he wanted the same. You could feel it and know it as you sank on him.

He groaned and pushed himself further inside you, letting your tight walls squeeze a dream-like haze over him. You both moaned with the connection, and he had to hold back from biting you and drawing blood as he hid in the crook of your neck. Not even because he wanted your blood, but just because he couldn’t control the way he needed to become a part of you.

You moved your hips, and he groaned again, needing to still you seconds later. That unique, euphoric sensation lacing every wave of pleasure brought tears to his eyes, even more so when you pecked his forehead. Every time you moved, he saw sparks of white. It was beautiful and heavenly, and he knew he’d want it for the rest of his days.

You restarted your hips, moving in a way that his cock bottomed out, and he tensed again, unable to stop you and overwhelmed by everything you gave him. 

He could only breathe when you stopped again, moaning for him with your lip tucked between your teeth as you swiveled your hips to grind your clit on him. “I won’t last.”

He kissed your shoulder with closed eyes and knew you felt his hard dick throb inside you. No matter what, he’d let you have your way. He just couldn’t say no to you.

Your moans echoed across the room as you rolled your hips harder, making good use of his slicked length inside you, but it was only when he joined in, fucking you hard and fast, that you lost sight of yourself. You closed your eyes and let him take you, your desperate moans the only hint he could have to how close you were.

Until you sobbed his name, crashing down around him in waves of frenzied bliss. He fucked you slower, cupping your cheeks to keep you looking at him the whole time, and you almost cursed him. You had never felt so connected and complete, all while you trembled and cried your pleasure, staring directly into his gorgeous dark eyes.

His strangled name out of your lips as you peaked made everything come cascading down for Jimin. That single moment rewrote him and changed him, because as you came, and your body and blood sang to him, he swore he saw light. It made him cling to you, the only ray of light in his darkness, and the pleasure that washed over him as he joined you washed him clean. He wasn’t just Jimin, and he wasn’t just a vampire, he was yours. Undoubtedly, for the rest of his days, regardless if he ever claimed you.

You let your forehead fall to his as your hushed breaths filled the room, and he hugged you closer.

“I was made for you,” he whispered, then pressed his lips to yours before he’d confess more of the turmoil inside him.

“So was I.”

6 months earlier

“You always let me eat the whole popcorn tub,” you giggled as you dragged him outside the cinema and into the night as your dress twirled around you. The temperatures were rising, and Jimin liked seeing you in dresses.

“I know you like sweet things.” He shrugged as he followed you, ignoring the few people leaving the late-night session alongside the two of you.

“Still, not even one? You make me feel bad for letting you pay half.”

You were grinning, so he didn’t take it too seriously. At first, comments like those made him freeze and think of excuses, but a month was enough to know that you didn’t really care.

“Buy my ticket next time,” he suggested, pulling you closer to cross the park hand in hand. He knew you thought it was for safety, but it was just for the pleasure of it. No one would dare come close to you two, and if someone tried, he’d avoid it before you even realized the situation.

You walked side by side and raised your eyebrows, “Are you saying you want to do this again?”

He squeezed your hand, “You know I do.”

You chuckled and stayed quiet, turning your head up to observe the breeze move the tree canopies above your heads as you walked the city park. Lately, you had been there so many times that he knew the way back to your place like the back of his hand. He couldn’t help his smile as you observed the night sky with a light purse of your lips. 

“How about we go see the stars next time?” you asked, turning to him.

“So you don’t buy me a ticket?”

“What?” You chuckled and shook your head once you realized his tease. “Of course, I’ll get you a ticket. But on another day, we could go see the stars. We can’t really see them from here.”

You stopped to look at the sky, and he mimicked you, though your wonder was far more interesting.

“There’s this place outside the city…” he suggested. “It’s a bit of a drive, but it will be beautiful on a summer night.”

Your lips curved playfully. “Sounds like a good idea. Should we make it a weekend?”

He pursed his lips. “No, I can… drive us back.”

You nodded and looked down, taking one step to resume your walk, when he pulled you back to him.

“I’m not saying no to a weekend away with you,” he clarified, looking intently into your eyes. “We can plan something better than just star gazing.”

You hummed in thought, though you didn’t move away, letting your hands rest on his chest. “I’m sure it would involve cuddles at some point.”

“Cuddles?” It was his turn to hum, exaggerating as he swayed you in his embrace. “You’re right; that does make it much better.” You smiled cheekily, and he pinched your pink cheek. “We’ll plan something.”

You smiled, getting on your toes to kiss him when your phone rang. You pulled it out of your handbag and picked up the call in one swift movement that made Jimin sigh.

“Don’t tell me you’re still out?” you asked Jiyu in disbelief, knowing it was about three-thirty in the morning.

He raised an eyebrow, though he tried not to give away how much he could hear of the conversation.

“Yeah, we’re still out! And you are too, so get your ass here!”

“We’re just out of the cinema,” you started, glancing at him.

“So you’re already out of the house! And bring Jimin. It’s high time he hears some truths!”

“Are you drunk?” you asked gently, and the roll of high-pitched grumbles that followed confirmed it.

“You just never go out anymore! It’s all his fault! I never see you anymore, and it’s not because I moved out! Would I even see you if we still lived together?! You’re just out on dates every night or whatever!”

“We also watch movies at home and snuggle—”

“I don’t care!” There was a sniffle. “I don't know if I like him! I trust Hoseok, but ever since you started dating, I just don't see you! You're busy every night!”

“We are…” you started, looking at him before glancing away, “getting to know each other.”

Her voice sounded strangled, “Just get your ass here, or I’ll never forgive you!”

Jimin could hear the others’ awwws and don’t be like that, and knew Jiyu was crying. You looked at Jimin again and bit your lip; so you knew it, too. “Where are you? Okay, I know where it is.” You turned, looking around to situate yourself. “I’m fifteen minutes out. See you soon.”

Jimin had a light frown on his face as you put your phone away.

“Jiyu is at Club Gabbia,” you told him with a bit of a shy smile. “I haven’t seen her in a while, or the others, so I’ll join them before I go home.”

He pursed his lips, wondering why you weren’t inviting him to come along when it was clear Jiyu needed reassurance. “It’s not safe for you to go alone…”

You smiled while you shook your head. “Jiyu is with the girls, and they’ve had a bit to drink… I’m sure you’d be annoyed.”

“Not as long as I’m with you.” The words flew out before he could stop them, and he raked his fingers through his hair. “I just wouldn’t be at ease knowing you were by yourself.”

You nodded slowly. “I should tell you that… if they see you, they won't let you get away. Only Jiyu knows you, and they’re… curious,” you settled on a word, and he nodded. “And they’re also drunk, so they might be a bit too much.”

“Are you trying to convince me not to meet them?”

His tone had amusement, and you sighed. “Just telling you what to expect…”

He grabbed your hand and turned down another path, “Club Gabbia… I think I remember where that is.”

He led you calmly down the stone path, asking you things about your friends so you’d relax. He preferred to hear you talk than to worry about his problems — like the fact that Jiyu already noticed how close you were to Jimin. Only one month had passed, and you spent every night together, either out on a date or home snuggling — getting to know each other, as you said. 

Some would say that meeting your friends would complicate everything, but he couldn’t let you go alone or create even more friction with Jiyu. After all, you would always gravitate towards him; that was inevitable, but you were not bonded. He had made sure to keep that side of him in check precisely so you wouldn’t change or sacrifice your life to be with him. So you could walk away one day. Perhaps pretending to be a normal guy would help you with this.

You reached the club and entered quickly, and Jimin’s hand tightened around yours as you guided him upstairs. The whole structure was black metal, an industrial concept that made it seem like the building was still under construction. He tried focusing on the floor, but the flashing lights almost made his sensitive eyes cry. On top of this, the open concept meant that the booming noise from the dance floor echoed up, making him grit his teeth. Clubs were too much for creatures like him.

“I don’t believe it!”

A couple of shrieks and shouts ahead told him which table had your friends before you headed that way. Jiyu was sitting in the middle and didn’t get up like the others to greet you two. Instead, her eyes lingered on him while you greeted everyone and told them about being nearby.

“So you never go out clubbing?” Jiyu asked, raising her voice so he’d know she was talking to him.

“Not my thing,” he replied with a tense smile. “I prefer the bars downtown,” he added with a shout, making a point. “Easier to have a conversation.”

Jiyu pursed her lips, and you raised your hand to her, inviting her to get up and hug you, which she did. She was pouting, drunk, and Jimin only smiled to himself—he understood the feeling; he would also get jealous if he were in her shoes.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” A friend of yours smiled boldly, and you let go of Jiyu, who you were talking to by speaking in each other’s ears as you hugged.

“Girls, this is Jimin.”

They started giggling and teasing, and he found them amusing. You looked flustered as they asked if he was your boyfriend, and your reply was bashful. “We’re getting to know each other.”

He didn’t correct you, and a playful smile rested on his lips when he pulled you to sit next to him. He didn’t think you were downplaying what you two were doing; you were likely just afraid of saying something that he wouldn’t agree with. It was funny to him because you were so beyond “girlfriend” or any other human designation, and you didn’t even know it. Little did he know, however, that his smile was interpreted the wrong way.

Your friends were keen on getting to know him, asking him a myriad of unexpected questions. Fortunately, his handling of humans as a dance instructor meant he had a well-rehearsed story and was totally unfazed. Jiyu had the hardest questions, interrupting only when there was an opportunity to dig a little deeper. How many siblings did he have? Were his grandparents still alive? Did he own his apartment?

He didn’t take it personally and answered everything according to the fictional story Hoseok had drafted for him back when he started at the gym. It wasn’t enough, he thought. Jiyu kept analyzing him, scrutinizing his worth. Even you realized this, grabbing her hand and leaning into her ear to tell her to take it easy.

It didn’t help that he refused drinks vehemently and couldn’t hide how uncomfortable he was. Jiyu perceived it as disliking her questions, but it was really the nauseating flashing lights.

Your friends got on the bandwagon and joined the questioning, though their questions were more playful. Had he ever dated seriously, or did he prefer dating around? When was his last long-term relationship? Was he available to teach them to dance, too?

He wasn’t ready for those, and it didn’t feel right to answer them when you had never touched such topics just the two of you. Fortunately, that was the moment you decided to leave.

“It’s almost five, and I’d like not to be a zombie tomorrow.”

Jiyu agreed, and so did Jimin. “I’ll take you home.”

He was eager to leave before the sun showed and made it uncomfortable for him. Not that he’d instantly combust, but he hated the sun-induced rash even after just a few minutes of exposure.

Your other friends tried their best, but you were out quickly, taking Jiyu to a taxi where she eyed Jimin one last time with a small head bow.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Jimin told you when the taxi moved away.

“She’s just looking out for me,” you replied, letting him guide you by the hand out of the crowd. When you got to a side street, it was easier to walk side by side and talk. “I’m sorry about the others, though.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“They were… kind of intrusive, no? And that last question…”

His thumb brushed circles on your hand as he tried recalling. “About being available for more classes?”

You huffed and looked away. “Said like that, it sounds innocent, but… it was not an innocent question, and I…”

He looked at you, and you instantly stiffened.

“I mean, of course, you’re free to give anyone classes. I just…”

He stopped and pulled you close to make sure you looked at him. “It bothers you?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Their insinuation? Yes.”

“I see,” he hummed as he grabbed your other hand. “I’m not teaching anyone else one-on-one, but even if I were, this,” he squeezed your hands, “wouldn’t happen. We might have met through dancing, but we’re much more than that. You’re special to me.”

You blushed, looking up at him with stars in your eyes, and he chuckled when you got on your tiptoes to kiss him.

5 months earlier

“Well done, everyone.” Jimin smiled as he stopped the music and clapped along with everyone in the class. “Have a safe trip back home!”

The sweaty attendees of his class bowed and expressed their appreciation before starting to disperse, and Jimin turned his back to grab his things.

“We’re going out for a drink, Jimin-ssi.”

He turned to face one of the usuals smiling at him with a flushed, cheeky smile. He couldn’t recall her name.

She pointed behind her at a group of seven or so people from that same class. “Want to join us?”

He nodded at them in acknowledgment but instantly shook his head. “No, I got somewhere to be.”

“Come on, Eun-Yeong,” one of them called. “Can’t you see Jimin-ssi is going home to his girlfriend?”

Her scowl was instant as she turned to glare at the guy, and Jimin chuckled, “Well…”

“Oh,” Eun-Yeong suddenly said as realization spread over her features. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you— I’m sorry.” She bowed deeply, and Jimin grabbed his things.

“No worries. You enjoy yourselves and get home safely.” He gave them all light head bows before heading straight to the exit into the warm night. 

The days were longer now, which meant not as much time to be with you. While he was inside the gym, it was fine, but he couldn’t stay so long in the morning, which annoyed him greatly.

He walked to your place on autopilot, wondering about what his students had said. Girlfriend. Would you have said yes if you were asked? He hoped so, considering. Though he knew there was a chance you wouldn’t, and he’d understand.

It was his fault. He knew that for humans, dating and seeing each other every day meant being serious, and he was serious about you — he just didn’t want you to know.

Yes, he was yours, body and soul, but no, he had never told you that. He never revealed much about himself other than the made-up human story, and so it felt wrong to even touch on establishing a relationship. Because it would have been based on lies, and he didn’t want that, even though it had to stay that way.

With time, he became certain that he wouldn’t hurt you, even when lust-crazed. He would know, you spared no efforts trying to get him there. Whether you edged him for hours or begged him to fuck you while you two were dancing, you had understood two things about him: he’d never say no to you, and you were safe in his embrace.

This made it even more cruel that he never expressed how he felt about you, nor did he let you do it. You would look into his eyes with such endearment, and he’d kiss you to shut you both up, or you would cry his name as you came and while he chanted his love for you a thousand times in his head, he prayed that you wouldn’t say it. Even though he knew you felt it, and even though you never defined what you two were.

You had never expressed that being an issue for you, and he didn’t need to define it because he knew what you were to him. If anything, he knew you loved him because your blood told him so.

Not that he had ever tasted you like that, of course. He had grown confident that he could control that aspect of his nature and keep you safe and blissfully ignorant. Your blood still sang to him, though, but that was not an issue. It called to him, but it wasn’t what shot him up to the sky, letting him float among the stars under the glow of the moon. That elation that accompanied touching you, making his heart sing, had nothing to do with the prospect of sinking his teeth into you. It was just quite simply the way you were together; it was just you. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, be it your fruity slick, your flowery-scented skin, or your ambrosia-like kisses. He was so in love with you, that spending his nights by your side was all that mattered, blissfully ignoring the elephant in the room. 

At least until that conversation reminded him of all this, only for your sweet smile to make him forget all about it as soon as you opened the door for him.

“There you are,” you quipped, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

He held you and gave you a quick peck before coming inside.

“I always ask, but,” you started, already in the kitchen while he took off his shoes. “You’ve eaten?”

“As always, I have.”

You shrugged and grabbed a Twinkie. “I blame your schedule for my midnight snacks.”

He agreed and joined you on the couch. “I’ll take responsibility and make you burn the calories.”

He winked, and you chuckled with your mouth full; it was adorable. You hugged a pillow and put your feet on his lap, and he took them to press the balls of your feet. It was almost routine by now — you trained in high heels, and he massaged your feet.

“How was your day?”

You swallowed hurriedly to answer him, “I met Jiyu to hash out the last details of our summer trip.” You reached for the cup of iced tea you had left on the coffee table to push the cake down, waving your hand as though much had been said, but you weren’t going into details. “She insisted again that it wasn’t normal for you to not come along, and she went on this super paranoid tangent,” you laughed, putting the cup down. “She says that you act like a married man, always leaving, not introducing me to your family, never joining us on our trips, and I just had to laugh because she’s so dramatic.”

You were laughing with it but he couldn’t match you. He only pursed his lips for a moment, “It’s silly.”

“Right? I mean, we’re too young to get married, and we’ve only been together for like five months, and…” You paused, seeing that a light demeanor similar to yours could not be found on the other side of the couch. Jimin looked rigid, staring at your feet without ever stopping his digits digging into the sole of your foot. “Just because she is marrying her high school sweetheart, it doesn’t mean others have to do the same as her.”

You pulled your foot from his touch and he gritted his teeth, but kept his eyes low.

“Then she was going on about how it could be fun to go on double dates and so on, but don’t worry, I shot her down. You don’t have time for that type of thing.”

“I work at night.”

“She suggested during the day, but I told her you were a night owl type of guy.”

You got up from the couch, taking the cup with you to pour the tea down the drain and rinse it, and he stayed behind. He couldn’t think of anything to say; he didn’t want to admit he’d been lying, but he didn’t want you to think he didn’t care. He cared, so he couldn’t make it serious. He couldn’t go on trips with your friends or meet your family, and certainly not introduce you to his. This way, he could make sure that one day you could walk away and live the rest of your life in peace.

Which was ironic considering the way his heart was tightening painfully from just feeling the slightest disconnection between you. He didn’t want you to misinterpret him or distance yourself, so how would he ever let you go?

The cup clinked as you put it down, drying your hands with a towel. “So, as you know, I’ll leave tomorrow.”

He got up to join you, suddenly restless. The detachment in your voice was like a jab to his heart, and when your eyes raised to his, he felt it more sharply.

He grabbed your hands, and you looked down. “Will you come water the plants? The week I’m gone?”

“I’ll come every day,” he said quietly, hurting with the way your eyes stayed hidden. “I’m not married, and I don’t have anyone else, I’m just—”

He hesitated, and you offered, “A night owl?”

He nodded, looking away and pressing his lips. He gripped your hands, struggling with what to say and what path to take when you smiled.

“You’re not ready, it’s fine. I get it.” Your tone was soft, but he could see through you in the rigid lines of your face. “I have friends that dated for years and never introduced their partners to anyone, it’s fine. I mean, they’re not together anymore, but—”

His lips crashed to yours, his hand darting to hold your head in place when he suddenly backed off with wide eyes and blown pupils.

“What?” you asked, gripping his arms unceremoniously. You wanted him to kiss you, you didn’t know why he stopped. Thinking about all this made you insecure, so you needed to feel him close.

He licked his lips and looked at your mouth, and for a second, you thought he’d ravish you.

But then he raised your chin. “You picked skin on your lip?”

You pressed your lips. “I… do that sometimes—”

“You can’t. You can never hurt yourself like that again. Okay?” His tone was firm and commanding, and you blinked up, slightly befuddled by his strong reaction. He caressed your cheek. “What if it scars? Or hurts? How would I kiss you?”

“You’d have to wait,” you mumbled, seeing the worry in his watery eyes.

“I can’t, I need you.” His quiet confession made your stomach fuzzy as he kissed your lips again, groaning into your mouth.

In seconds, you were lost in the kiss and sitting on the counter with your legs around him. He kept tracing his hands over you firmly, possessively, and you matched his fervor. You could swear he felt insecure as well, and you didn’t want him to. You loved him, wanted him and a future with him, dreaded the upcoming week without him, and didn’t want him to feel uncertain about you.

But you realized that he wasn’t ready to talk about feelings or relationships, and while a year ago you would have shot down the notion of being with someone without knowing where you stood, with him, you just… Let it go. 

Because everything felt so right as he picked you up and carried you to bed. He undressed you and revered every inch of you revealed to him, and as always, you felt special, seen, and important. All you needed was for him to look at you like that, with such longing, and touch you with such care, almost like he was thankful you existed. It was selfish, perhaps, but you had never felt that way before, and it wasn’t just him. You knew you reflected that same myriad of feelings in your eyes, in your touch. It didn’t matter if you were yet to meet his parents or become officially his girlfriend or if he was too busy to go on trips with Jiyu. This was your decision, and you would pick him, always.

You welcomed his kiss, and although normally, Jimin would take his time preparing you and worshiping you, he couldn’t wait this time. He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in, settling as deeply as you would take him. It forced a groan out of him and a moan out of you, but when he looked at you, he knew you were fine; better than. You crossed your legs behind him, and he knew that expression of yours; you wanted to feel him, and he wanted nothing else.

Your heart and blood were calling to him louder than ever before, and he knew his was answering the same way, even if you couldn’t hear it. He could only show you, which was why he was fucking you hard, grabbing the back of your neck to him so you’d let him nuzzle your jugular as he thrust into you frantically. The slap of skin wasn’t enough, not even your moans were, so he suckled your skin, just to feel your heartbeat in his mouth. It was the closest he’d ever be to tasting and hearing your love, and it drove him wild. He needed you. Needed you in his life, in his mouth, in his body, and in his own blood. Needed to be a part of you, your life, and your body. He needed to mark you just as much as he needed to love you, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell you, even if he heard your love in your sweet heartbeat and smelled it in your blood. He couldn’t tell you, especially because he could. Because you already loved him, but you didn’t even know the truth.

Your voice vibrated on his lips as you moaned, tightening your warm, velvety walls around him as you sank your nails into his shoulders, and he closed his eyes. He knew you were about to find rapture, so when you jumped, he tumbled right after you, mixing his moans with yours as he came, trembling, same as you.

Your heart was racing as you kissed his head, caressing his hair gently, and he stayed put, just listening. He didn’t know how to keep you by his side, but he just couldn’t lose you. 

1 month earlier

You were happy that night when Jimin entered your bed, slipping in behind you, hugging you awake.

You had met for training earlier in the night, and you had teased him relentlessly. With only one month away from the competition, you deserved compensation for your improvements, and you didn’t care about trophies. 

He jokingly pointed out that he still caught you when you tripped, and you chuckled, “Maybe I do it on purpose so you’ll catch me.”

He hummed as though he wasn’t convinced, and you bit your lip.

“So come over and give me everything I deserve?”

He sighed at your pout, and you smiled victoriously when he said, “Maybe.”

You knew he was busy helping Hoseok with the competition, since it was happening at the gym. They’d pull all-nighters to get everything ready, and that meant you had less time with Jimin. You missed your movie nights and star gazing. You missed him, it was hard for you.

Jiyu had noticed his absence and your sadness, but even she had to admit it was likely tough for Jimin. “Plus, he’s participating, can you imagine? Must be super stressful.”

You sighed and snuggled closer to him; what mattered was that at least tonight he’d sleep at home. Or rather, with you. You finally felt at home.

Despite settling quietly behind you, Jimin was hard, and you weren’t shy about rubbing your ass against his crotch to make double sure. He groaned quietly with his hand on your waist, and you wasted no time, pulling your pajama pants and underwear down your legs. 

He groaned into your hair when he felt your soft, warm skin, and you pleaded, “Please.”

You knew you had him when his hand traced your curves under your shirt to squeeze your breast and tease your nipple.

“My little light,” he sighed, making you squirm. “I missed you.”

You were easily set ablaze, dragging his hand lower to settle between your legs. “I missed you, too. Please.”

His fingers were quick to catch your wetness and spread it to your clit, and you closed your eyes as you gripped the sheets. No matter how much you enjoyed it when he gave to you, focusing on your pleasure before his own, that was not what you needed tonight.

“Jimin,” you called, writhing more into his chest. “Fuck me. Please.”

He must have expected and welcomed your request because he didn’t waste a second. His lips pressed to your neck as he opened his pants only to enter you, groaning softly in your ear in tune with you. He knew the way inside you now like the back of his hand, just as he knew how to give you exactly what you wanted.

You needed to feel him hard and deep. You needed him to cover you with love bites just so you had something other than the soreness between your thighs to remember him by once he left at dawn.

You moaned when he gripped your hip harder, melting and tightening around his cock. You loved it when he fucked you like this, a steady rhythm meant to make you feel good and drive you both insane as the two of you teetered on the edge of your volatile emotions for as long as possible. Only tonight you knew that wouldn’t work for either of you; you were bound to pop quickly out of sheer longing. Distance makes the heart go fonder and all that, which right now meant that you were craving to cream his cock and hear him groan his pleasure in the form of your name as he nestled inside you, filling you with his cum. You wanted it enough that the slightest touch turned you on — and he was slamming into you full force.

You moaned his name and worked against his ruts to feel him as deeply as possible. “Fuck, don’t stop,” you pleaded, feeling a gut-ripping fire start to flare in your lower stomach. It was going to blow and take everything with it, and you wanted nothing else. “Harder, please!”

You loved when he bit down your neck as he fucked you so hard you saw stars; it was perfect. He was still the Jimin you knew, the one you wanted, yours—

“Fuck, I’m—” Your words vanished as you moaned, your mind slipping past you with your orgasm as you kept mumbling, “I love you—I love—”

You groaned harder when a prick on your neck made you squirm a little, but instantly the bee sting-like sensation vanished as your orgasm took a new breath. Something exciting and exhilarating was making you soar high. It was as though you were floating as your heart pumped pure bliss, nearly exploding with happiness. Your only thought beyond the white waves of pleasure was that Jimin was right there with you, joining you, taking this leap together. You could feel him coming deep inside you as his arms kept you tethered to him, and you needed nothing else.

Coming down, you were like a feather waiting for the breeze to gently put you down. Of course, Jimin couldn’t wait to kiss you, so he turned your head up to connect your mouths. A ferric taste invaded your tastebuds, but you thought nothing of it. Not until he pulled away with wide, spooked eyes and you frowned. What was that on his mouth?

You whimpered when the stung-like sensation returned to your neck, and you touched it. It was wet, and you knew that smell.

You got up from bed. “Ah shit, it’s going to stain the pillows—”

Suddenly, the world was spinning, and your head was too light. You frowned as you stumbled, but a firm hand grabbed your arm to keep you steady.

You smiled, about to thank Jimin for catching you, as always, when your eyes fell on the mirror and found a gruesome image: your white pajama top was crimson because you had two small holes in your skin, pouring blood down your neck. Behind you, Jimin was hugging you to him, and his mouth and chin had traces of crimson.

“What the fuck?” You moved away from him to see better in the mirror under the moonlight, but he didn’t let you go.

“Wait.”

You tsked, “You bit too hard!”

You faced him in the mirror, a bit angry, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. “Let me close it.”

You blinked, stupefied by his answer. “What?”

“Here, just let me—” He leaned down into your neck and swiped his tongue across both holes, and you shuddered from head to toe. “There,” he said quietly, and you pressed your hand to your neck in bewilderment.

He stepped away, and you looked in a mirror; you still had blood stains all over your skin and clothes, but you weren’t bleeding out anymore. Because he licked you. 

What?

You spun on yourself, frowning with a surge of questions rattling in your brain, only for them to abruptly stop. Jimin was gripping his hair a few meters away from you, and he looked absolutely panicked.

“What just happened?” you asked, as though you needed him to confirm it, else you would start thinking you were imagining things.

“I bit you,” he mumbled, glancing at you before looking away. His eyes glistened with such emotion, your heart tightened in response.

Still, you shook your head. “Yeah, but why go so far?” You looked at your white pajamas as though you needed to confirm the evidence was still there.

“Because I fucked up!”

He was clearly anxious, and you blinked a few times, bafflingly waiting for more information. He didn’t open his mouth, so you insisted, “Well, okay, but why? I mean, clearly biting me like this without asking me first—”

“Asking?!” He turned to you with wide, glossed eyes, and you frowned again. Why was he looking at you as though you had lost your mind? “What the hell are you saying?!”

“Well, obviously! I’m okay with you having a bite or blood kink or something, but you have to talk to me first so that we can—”

“Stop! Okay, stop, just—”

He covered his face with his hands as though he needed a moment, and the silence in the room almost made him believe time had stopped. If it weren’t for your heartbeat.

He fucked up. He tried so hard to pretend you could be together, to convince himself that he wouldn’t hurt you, that you were safe, that—

He sighed. He tried so hard to convince himself that he wouldn’t have to tell you.

He opened his eyes. “It’s not a kink. I’m not human.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

You were confused, but at least you gave him the benefit of the doubt instead of laughing. Maybe now you could sense the danger you were in.

“I’m a vampire.”

Your eyebrows skyrocketed as you eyed him from head to toe, and then frowned. “What?”

“I’m a—”

“No, no.” You waved your hand as you squinted your eyes. “You’re— You’re a specimen of a fictional species?”

“Now you know we’re not just fictional,” he replied darkly.

His lips pulled back, his tongue licked over his teeth, and then you saw them — his teeth were different. It was as though they elongated seamlessly before your eyes. They were still crimson with traces of your blood.

“You need blood.” You shook your head. “I mean, you— You feed on people?”

“No,” his answer was sharp and firm. “Of course, there are instincts and appropriate places if— No, I don’t. I haven’t in years.”

You stayed quiet, eying him as though you could catch him lying. “You did bite me.”

“It’s not the same.”

“How?”

He heaved a deep breath. “You’re— You’re not just someone I want to—” Your eyebrow twitched, daring him to speak openly, and he did. “You’re not someone I just want to play with for the thrill. You’re not someone I want to risk killing because I lost control. You’re not someone I want to endanger or bring into this world to just get torn apart by—”

His features twisted into a grimace as he stopped himself, and you observed as the conflict continued, hurting him inside and out. You didn’t know what he was talking about, you couldn’t follow his train of thought.

“Is that why you never told me? Or maybe it's the opposite.” You looked down, remembering a talk you once had with Jiyu. “I’m nothing serious to you, so why bother telling me. Right?”

He was already shaking his head before you were done. “No, not right. If you were nothing serious, I wouldn’t have bothered even looking at you twice.”

“But you never told me.” You shrugged.

“For your safety.”

“Knowing would put me in danger?” You arched a skeptical eyebrow. “How would anyone know I know?”

He chewed on his lip. “That’s not the only problem.”

“Then what is?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and, as the seconds ticked by in silence, felt his cum starting to drip down from inside you.

You huffed and searched for your underwear and pajama bottoms in between the sheets. His eyes stayed on you as you put your clothes back on. He also tucked his dick away and composed his clothes, but he didn’t answer your question.

By the time you were left standing, looking at him again, the quiet had already chipped at your patience. “Maybe the real problem is that you can’t seem to be honest?”

His jawline hardened. “I just wanted you to be safe.”

“From what?”

“From everyone!” He threw his hands up at your caustic tone. “From everything, from hurting, from— From me!”

You crossed your arms over your chest again. “Well, that didn’t work, did it?”

He growled and turned away, and you bit your tongue. You were angry, but saying that did not help.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I—”

“No, you’re right.” 

You instantly straightened your back; his tone was cold and detached as he turned back to face you.

“It was the one thing I wanted. To keep you safe from this side of me. I thought I could do it because no matter how good you smelled, or sweet you tasted, I stopped wanting your blood long ago.”

Your heart was beating harshly, anxiety gripping you as you waited for the other shoe to drop. “Then… What happened tonight?”

He pursed his lips for a moment, and you saw his inner battle before he looked away. His eyes held resolution when they faced you again. “You spoke your heart, and I… couldn’t keep it in anymore.” You were confused, and he chuckled, “It’s not your blood, or rather, not to feed. I didn’t want to feed on you, but I do want… to bite you.”

Your heart pumped strongly inside your rib cage, a mix of relief and —oddly— acceptance spreading through your veins. “That’s… that’s fine, I—”

“That is not fine.”

His tone was so absolute that you frowned. “What? Why?”

“Because you have no idea what it means.”

He turned away to leave the room, and you followed him, confused and agitated. “Well, because you won’t tell me! Maybe if you told me, I could decide differently, but—” He started putting on his shoes, and you sucked in an aggravated breath. “Won’t you face this with me?!” You couldn’t believe he wanted to leave instead of explaining everything to you properly. “Besides, it’s my body and my blood! Shouldn't it be my decision?”

He only glanced at you, a single look worth a thousand words — you had no idea what you were talking about.

“Fucking explain it to me, then,” you bit back at him as he grabbed the doorknob and stepped outside.

He turned to you with such a blank expression, your anger made you clench your jaw.

“This was a mistake on my part.”

“Biting me without warning? Sure—”

“Letting this… happen.”

He waved between you, and you weren’t sure you were breathing right or hearing properly, but suddenly, there was an agonizing sting in your chest.

“I should have known it wouldn’t work out. It was naive of me, I’m sorry.”

Your disbelief and pain morphed your features, but before you could say something, he was already stepping back and away.

“Let’s stop it here.”

It took you a second to react, but you did. “Wait!”

But stepping into the corridor, you saw no one. You looked both ways, confused, but then the building's front door slammed from the floor below yours, cutting through the silence, and you gritted your teeth.

You threw on a coat to withstand the November cold and a pair of boots for the snow and ran after him.

Or so you thought. Thinking about where you should go made you realize you didn't even know where he lived. It never bothered you as much as it did now as you kept running. 

But at least you knew where he worked, and it wasn't far. You saw the building lit up like a mirage in a desert of snow and made your way straight for the twenty-four-seven gym.

*****

Hoseok frowned as the doors that led to the staff area slammed, but he didn’t have time to say or do anything because, suddenly, his priorities shifted. His mouth salivated as his vision narrowed, a tension tingling down his spine as a sweet scent hit his nose. His first instinct was to rush to the reception counter and check the surveillance cameras — maybe a human had gotten hurt, though it was weird because—

You rushed through the automated front door with conviction, scanning the lobby before turning to Hoseok, who was speechless. He instantly could tell that you were the problem; how could you smell so sweet?

“Is he here? Is Jimin here?”

Hoseok was already stepping toward you with his hands in the air to stop you; this was bad. “Are you hurt?! You have blood—”

“I'm not hurt,” you cut in, and the scrutiny in your eyes froze him midway. “How do you know about the blood?”

He could see that your coat covered you from ear to knee. So he could follow your train of thought; how would he know of any blood, unless…

“You're one, too?”

Your question interrupted whatever excuse he was about to give.

He eyed you a bit reluctantly before nodding. “You smell strongly of blood. It's dangerous, you—”

He stilled again with a shudder down his spine. He could feel someone's eyes on him and knew that he could not touch you. No matter what.

Hoseok’s erratic behavior or the fact that you also didn't know that he was a vampire didn’t seem to bother you.

You shook your head to focus. “Is Jimin here? Did he come here?”

Your voice wavered with a cry, and Hoseok glanced back before focusing on you. “Did something happen?”

“He told me he's—” You swallowed. You were trembling along with your voice. You gripped your cold fingers. “He left. We—” 

Hoseok did not react; he didn’t really understand what you were saying, and your presence there was too dangerous. 

You brushed your palms down your face to wipe the tears and tried again, “We've been… seeing one another for… almost a year, and he never told me he… isn't human, and tonight… he bit me.”

Hoseok’s eyes glistened, but he stayed put. “I'm sure that was very traumatic.”

“What?” You frowned, confounded, even as he kept an expectant gaze on you. “I'm not traumatized! Or scared! Or in danger!”

“You don't know about—”

“Shut up!” Your outburst quieted him and you groaned, “I'm sorry, I just— I'm tired of being told I don't know. Of course I don't know! He didn’t tell me anything! And now he ran off without telling me anything! Does that make sense?! With one breath, he says I'm not just anyone, and with the other, he fucking leaves me without any explanation!”

Tears broke down your face again, and this time, you couldn’t help your grimace, turning to hide it for a moment. It hurt you so much. It was so confusing but the more you had time to think about it, the more it hurt.

Your shoulders shook with a sob. “I love him— I told him as much, and now— It's like I have no idea what is happening.”

“Hey,” Hoseok said from behind you as you sniffled and tried controlling your bawling. He was trying to calm you, whispering as you cried, but he couldn’t move, not even one step closer to you.

You turned back to face him, with red eyes and wet cheeks. “You're one, too,” you sniffled, “so tell me the truth. Is it me? Did I do something? He said we were a mistake, so— Is it because I'm human? I don't understand; does it matter?”

Hoseok shook his head. “It's a personal thing. Some will never think of a human beyond prey while others can… see more when they find someone special.”

His tone was gentle, but you didn't catch what he meant; you simply pressed your eyes with your palms to hide. “So I'm neither. Not a human to feed on and not special enough to learn about him.”

“You can't make assumptions like that,” he tried, worry marring his features, and you sniffled and cleaned your face again.

“He left me. Assumptions are all I have.”

“I'm sure he'll talk to you when he's ready,” Hoseok was confident as he declared this, and you shook your head.

“He looked at me like I… was already worthless,” your voice broke down with new tears, and Hoseok raised his hands again, but you stopped him. “It's fine, I… I'm emotional right now, I… I should think about it, too, right? I mean… I love him, but do I even know him?”

Hoseok’s expression hardened. “You do.”

You pressed your lips with skepticism. “Thank you for listening, Hoseok. I… I'm happy you were here.”

You waved weakly and left the same way you came, and Hoseok stayed put, watching you go. “Should we keep an eye on her? At least until she makes it home?”

“She lives just around the corner, and I can hear her heartbeat,” Jimin said, pushing the doors out of the staff area to join Hoseok in the lobby. “I'll hear it if something happens.”

Hoseok’s eyes were inscrutable. “So you did bite her and drink her blood.” Jimin pressed his lips and tried stilling his tongue from licking around to get more of your lingering taste. “And she's still walking about,” Hoseok declared pointedly, then insisted. “She didn't bleed out.”

“Of course not,” Jimin scowled, annoyed that Hoseok even mentioned it. “I closed the wounds.”

“Oh, of course,” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Jimin’s expression stayed harsh and Hoseok rolled his eyes. “She wasn't scared of you or upset by the fact that you bit her, so what is it? Why are you running away from her?”

“Because it’s not safe for her.”

“You closed the wounds instead of feeding on her.” It was not a question but an attempt at making the younger vampire realize what he had done. Seeing as Jimin’s expression was unmovable, he sighed, “Are you sure she's not safe with you?”

“I bit her!”

The disgust twisted Jimin’s face and Hoseok was unfazed. “So?”

“I could have killed her!”

“Could you, though? You closed the wounds so easily… meaning you didn't want to feed. You want to mark her…” he hummed in thought, and Jimin bit down on his lip. He couldn't deny it, and so Hoseok continued, “That's why you bit her, but you were able to stop and put her first. Because she's yours, isn't she?” He kept probing, trying to get Jimin to say it, but he remained quiet. “Are you sure you would hurt her?”

“I just did!”

Jimin’s annoyance flared with a deep hate, and Hoseok hummed, “Sounds to me like you hurt her more by hiding your nature from her. You heard her — she loves you.”

“Well, she shouldn't!” he finally burst out, with glistening eyes promptly hiding as he turned away. “She doesn't know me!”

“I wonder if that's true,” Hoseok said calmly, contrasting with Jimin greatly. “If you're also hers, and all that.”

A shudder warmed Jimin's blood at the thought, but then he shook his head. “She wouldn’t know.”

“She might. She's a muse, after all.” Hoseok’s voice had a tone of wisdom, and Jimin didn’t bother denying it. “They probably sense these things.” Jimin was looking away, but Hoseok was happy he said it; it was important for Jimin to think about it, too. “You're sure you didn't mark her?”

“No, I… stopped in time.” He swallowed hard as he remembered. 

Cumming inside you was bliss, but doing so drunk on your blood while you chanted your love was euphoric. He had been completely overwhelmed, with both your loves crashing inside his chest, stealing his reason. He loved you so much, he—

He cleared his voice, “Why?”

Hoseok’s eyes were still on the door. “She… smells sweeter.”

Jimin's fists closed by his sides as he searched inside his chest and focused. He could hear your stable heartbeat and sense you were arriving home safely, but that was it. What if he had hurt you in ways he couldn't sense? More than breaking your heart, what if he had done enough damage that you wouldn’t be able to walk away unscathed like he promised?

“I… I'd feel it, right?”

Hoseok finally turned to him. “I don't know. We don’t know anyone who has found their muse to ask, either. Besides, you already love her. I'm not sure if a bond would feel much different.”

Jimin closed his eyes with a muted groan and raked his hands through his hair multiple times; he had loved you for so long, it felt like his whole life. He also didn't know if there would be a difference.

“What are you going to do?” Hoseok asked, and Jimin stopped to look at him. “You can't leave her in the dark like that. You can't.”

His insistence printed on Jimin's heart, but he still looked away. “It's better this way.”

“What?” Hoseok frowned. “Why?”

“It's not safe for her.”

“Sounds to me like she's safer with you than anyone else. No one dared to come near her with you around, even when she smelled so injured and sweet.”

Jimin pressed his eyes for a moment; he couldn't help it. He could hear the other vampires in the vicinity, the same as Hoseok. The humans, too, same as everyone else. But it was his kind that smelled the traces of blood on you, which could have been dangerous, but not while he emitted such an aura — he would destroy whoever would dare to touch you. As simple as that. He couldn't control it, you were—

He sighed, “I'm keeping her safe. It's my fault she was bleeding, so…”

“So?”

“I have to protect her.”

“Do you?” 

Jimin huffed, starting to dread Hoseok questioning his every thought. 

“I mean, sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “She smells sweet, but no one would dare harm her in this neighborhood. You know our rules.” Jimin's jaw twitched, and Hoseok wondered, “So why do you think she needs protection? Maybe you could kill two birds with one stone and protect her while you love her.”

Jimin's jawline hardened. “I can love her from afar.”

“But why would you? Seems to me like she wants you close.”

“We can't be together,” he whispered, and Hoseok chuckled. Jimin insisted, “If she becomes mine… her life as she knows it will end. Eventually, at least. Family, friends… she'll have to let go of what she knows. She won't ever build a family. She'll have to sacrifice everything and step into this dark world she doesn't understand.”

“Sure… But you're her fate,” Hoseok said casually, and Jimin couldn’t deny it, even if he looked down. “Maybe she doesn't even want all those things humans want. Have you asked her?”

Jimin's lips pursed before he pressed them quickly. Hoseok didn't wait for an answer; he patted Jimin's shoulder and got back to his place behind the front desk, leaving the youngest to his devices. He knew Jimin hadn't asked you. They both knew there was so much left unsaid and unexplained by Jimin, just as they knew why that was.

Jimin was too afraid of your decision.

>Click here for Part 2<

[hoseoksluna]

THE FUN DAY, pt. I. | kth ft. pjm

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, angst — the sad kind

word count: 4.8k

summary: you've prepared a fun day for your boyfriend's military vacation. thank god he's here, right?

pin: f. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: suggestive but not described themes of sex and alcohol consumption.

note: i'm so EXCITED to bring you this fic that i can't wait until tomorrow to post this. everyone welcome TAEHYUNG and JIMIN to the hoseoksluna universe. i have to tell you a secret. taehyung was my first bias when i first became army. taehyungie was the first one to save me from the bunch—literally to resurrect me because in him i found all the things i used to love and fell out of. jazz, poetry, the aesthetics and arts. it is an honor to write about him and i think i will write another taehyung fic next week. if you have any ideas, drop them in my ask box and i will use them for inspiration. this fic is dedicated to my baby ruru @tkslovechild, my tatlim @jjk7k, and the beautiful anon that asked me for a tae fic while i was already working on this one. i love you all so much. enjoy this beautiful piece. <3 mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ .

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everday jug, like my mother's face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm.

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

It was your love language, to dress up like your boyfriend. 

Dress pants, shirts and jackets. Linen, silk, leather. Pointed heels or oxford shoes. Grays, browns, beiges and whites. It was something that made you happy—and it was something that represented a vessel, made of unbreakable porcelain, for your love that you carried for Taehyung. 

He’s sitting in the corner of your bedroom, on a wooden stool he specifically placed at such a picturesque place. With the ivory curtains drifting along the nape of his neck, sheer enough to expose the small vase of tulips that stoop in a private longing for his touch. He fondles them often to preoccupy his mind when you take your usual long showers and he waits for the fashion shows you give him. He’s the one who says yes or no. These shoes, love. Look, they’re just like mine. And right at this moment, the wine-yellow petals are caught between his slender fingers when you come out and he doesn’t let go of them—because you’re not holding up the outfit for the day as you always are. 

For the fun day as you’ve called it. 

You’re dressed in it. Low-waisted gray dress pants with a little, tight, white shirt. Black stilettos, black shoulder purse. Your trench coat is waiting for you in the hall, hung up and lonely, but other than that you’re matching him fully. It feels as though you’re fading into him, becoming a singular being that has his DNA and his beauty, and when he beams up at you, boxy smile on full show, spine straight and tall on the stool, long fingers gripping its rim, Taehyung, with his gray suit and a white shirt, somehow validates that feeling. 

Somehow, in that peculiar Taehyung way of his. 

He extends his hands towards you, asking for your closeness. There’s a mist of murkiness that envelops him, with the saddened clouds beyond the window, standing in the place of the sun. It moves through you, this image of him reaching for you in this landscape, and you think he deserves to be painted like this. With black charcoal and a little bit of soft carmine to eternalize the blush of his cheeks—the only trace of color in the sketchbook. Your hands don’t know the art of drawing, but your heart does and while you take those necessary steps towards him, you feel the scratches of that dark pencil over that grainy flesh. 

His palms find your curves and you consider it unbelievable, the fact he’s still so big, despite the size of the stool and the height of your heels. No matter how much taller you grow, he’ll always be that tower that protects you from the blazing heat of the sun. 

He’s the epitome of autumn. No longer a boy, but a man, whose lungs are perfumed by apples, leaves, cinnamon, pumpkin spice and the slight iciness of the seasonal wind. Whose eyes witnessed the growth of your form since you were a little girl with two long braids. 

Childhood best friends turned to lovers, favored by the hanging, twinkling stars. 

You always saw him the most in autumn. Chasing you down during festivities that your mom couldn’t not be a part of, grabbing a hold of one of your braided pigtails with his already long fingers, then tickling you until you gave up. Ever so easy to catch because of the length of your hair. You knew, even as a little girl, that he was not just a part of your life, but your life itself. More than a companion, more than a friend. You dreamed about having his babies and that dream would come to life through your imagination whenever he would chase you down, years later, in the grand halls of the east wing of his grandiose family home, where nobody ever comes, just to steal a kiss or two. It was the moment you realized that you were no longer kids, even though you acted as such, but that you desired little legs to follow you in the fun of it all. 

And that kiss changed every autumn from that year on.

Stolen glances, the blush of cheeks, quivering fingers that no longer grabbed your braids. Not until many autumns later. You gave him your everything, every bit of your newly-bloomed femininity, your dream of having his babies and he folded it into the vinyls of his favorite jazz music that he would play every night whenever he needed inspiration or whenever he simply needed you. 

Newly. Not just yet as adults and no longer as kids. Somewhere in between. 

And then the duties of adulthood came. The natural process of drifting apart settled between your bodies and you no longer played in the stage between. Taehyung, the saxophone-playing jazz singer, moving foreign bodies into his personal, heart-sung rhythm. Not yours, never yours for a long time. You, working a day job that never paid enough, not for the dresses you yearned to wear at those clubs he would play at. 

But what you didn’t know was that drifting apart meant coming together eventually. 

He might have become your Turnip Head, silent and distant, but you were Sophie—and you found him. You found him while looking for something, or someone for the lack of better words, and he helped you. Over a cup of coffee he didn’t drink, at a jazz bar you always wanted to come to. Your date was a hit and miss and the guy never came, and your Turnip Head didn’t help you find your Howl. 

He helped you find himself. And from that moment on, you never drifted apart again. 

Who would’ve thought that seeking a relationship that did not resemble your dream nor your childhood would make you find him all over again. 

In autumn, too. 

Taehyung paid for your dresses, your female suits, paid for your drinks. Kissed you underneath those dimmed, brown lights before he went off to play songs that moved your body at last. Dancing alone to his songs was your dream come true until he set down his saxophone and joined you. Let his band mates play his favorite Etta James song as he took your hand and drifted upon the dance floor with you. Those who danced before this song sat down, let you have this opportunity for yourself, and Taehyung kissed you, after a long time, after many autumns had passed, right then and there. 

And both of you realized that you could never drift apart again. You could only drift together. 

You moved in together. He bought you tulips of every possible hue every week. Played you his new songs for you on the saxophone. Took you to art galleries. Took you sightseeing, sometimes alone with you, sometimes with Jimin joining you. Shared your dream about having babies with you and talked about it all the time. Tried it out, seized it many times, though the outcome both of you desired never came. Had a beautiful life with you until…

Until he thinned out into his Turnip Head form and skipped away to fulfill his country duties. 

But he’s here. Oh, he’s here. Buff and big, apples, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. Brown eyes that carry the memory of your growth, hands that clutch your hips and that hold the silky memory of your still long braids. Hands that edge around your slightly, barely puffy tummy and that don’t know that you are with a concoction of a small him and you, a divine magical realism, a dream that came true without his knowledge right after the last hours of his military vacation were up and he had to go back to serve the country. 

The reason behind this fun day. 

The day of his second vacation, the day you tell him. 

“You look just like me,” he breathes, the width of his smile never lessening, hands skipping over the space between your hips and your arms and grabbing your hands. It gets to you still, the way his eyes never look up at you, the way they never have, and you feel so sweetly small. Even more so when Taehyung stands to his feet and slides his suit jacket over your shoulders. You become even smaller, a fawn taken care of. A pregnant fawn. “And now you are me.” 

Oh, he doesn’t know just how much. Not yet. 

He sits back down and gently pushes you to take a step back. On wavering feet, like that freshly-born fawn, you waver on your feet, but Taehyung keeps you stable, leaning forward to make sure you’ve caught your balance. A wisp of his dark hair falls over his eye that he, at last, flicks up at you. And the sensation from it, it is nothing that you ever felt before. 

It is a step forward. 

It’s something that tells you: go ahead. 

You planned to tell him at the jazz bar where he kissed you for the first time as an adult and made you his. But now, now it feels more than right, amidst this strange newness that you don’t think you’ll ever experience again. 

You open your mouth, brace yourself, but Taehyung is faster. Ringing fills your ears, the atmosphere around you feels gooey—as if you’re walking through a limbo. 

“Jimin will meet us at the park.” 

Oh, yes. Walk in the park, a warm drink to go, then the jazz bar. Jimin is having his military break as well, about to sing in Taehyung’s honor, you already knew this, knew he would join you, but being in the presence of your boyfriend, the detail slipped out. 

The newness leaves. Taehyung straightens. Towers over you. The normalcy flattens over the chemistry between you and him, the atmosphere lessening to feathery lightness and when you move your arms to give back his jacket, your arms feel as though they’re not your own. 

Your smile falls. 

Jazz bar it is. 

“We should go,” you prompt, turning around, having all the balance in the world as you go fetch your purse and reapply your red lipstick. 

Taehyung watches you in the mirror, his boxy grin on eternal display, warming your heart. You think about how you can’t wait until his baby witnesses that smile for the first time—and wonder if God is molding, at this very hour, the same one upon their little face. It brings tears to your eyes, ones that you quickly blink away, and instead you focus on lining your lips with the tip of the lipstick with utmost precision. 

In your vast collection of lip liners, you don’t have a red one. Truth be told, you always feared this vibrant color. It represented a stigma you never liked—that only promiscuous women wear that color, but to you it was never that. 

It was a color that meant you lose your girlhood, your childhood upon wearing. 

And now, it is a color that announces the next era of your life: adulthood, but different, painted with motherly instincts that are of these vibrant hues. Womanhood. No longer fearful, but brave. 

Right. 

You want your baby to connect this color to you and know that you made it. You waited your whole life for their father and gave it to him in one of the autumns as a child. Without knowing, without realizing. 

That color is a legacy. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyung kisses the back of your head, halting your motions. Wraps his arms around you as he props his chin on the place he kissed—and right here, right now, you’re looking at a family portrait in the mirror. 

A living, breathing one. With lifting chests in tandem, growing smiles and a growing baby in your womb. 

Magical realism in full effect. 

And then Taehyung is off to fetch your trench coat, holding it up for your arms to slip inside its sleeves. Grabs your hand and revels in the autumn weather outside, boxy smile never faltering. Sings in the car on the way to the park, makes eye contact as he mouths the lyrics—kiss me once and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time—because he could never sing over that part. It’s too precious to his heart for him to do so. 

The wind accompanies you and grabs your other hand as you walk down the pathway lined with half-barren trees and a still pond. Taehyung hums the Bing Crosby song that seems to be playing on loop within his mind and it is the only greenery that spreads around through his husky voice. All else—the pond, the trees and the last of their leaves that dance around you, the shrubberies and the clouds up above—are smeared with sullen blues and grays, to which Taehyung is everlastingly immune. 

Jimin is standing by an antique coffee stand, dressed to the nines in an outfit he most definitely must be cold in. Black dress pants with a jacket that stuns you. A matching Hussar one, with golden braiding. A military piece of clothing from another time. You think it suits the fun day quite delightfully, but not as much as it suits him. The golden detail goes hand in hand with his golden hair and you think he needs his picture taken. 

“Jimin!” you call out, making his confused little face turn in your direction, and he swivels his body to face you altogether. He holds two cups of coffee in both of his hands, one for him and one for you. You melt at that and look up at Taehyung to see his boxy smile ever so frozen and beautiful, pointed at his best friend. 

When you reach him, he hugs you. His cold skin stings you and you quickly warm him up with rubbing motions against his back. Scrunch your brows in puzzlement when he doesn’t hug Taehyung nor even look at him. 

But all is swept away when Jimin exclaims in discomfort and takes a rapid sip of his boiling drink. 

“Jimin, where’s your coat?” you ask him in pity, watching him shake and moan in pain once he burns his tongue. He uses the cup to warm up both of his hands. 

“I didn’t think Paris would be so cold in October,” he explains in a hushed, livid tone, drawing the rim of the paper cup back to his lips as if he didn’t learn his lesson. Typical Jimin. “But this outfit is for Taehyung anyways, so I’ll survive.” 

He talks of him but he doesn’t look at him. Makes heart eyes at the misting coffee, instead. Like Taehyung isn’t here at all. 

Strange. 

You shake off the thought. 

“Go stand by the pond before you freeze. I want to take a picture of you,” you say, softly, pulling your phone out of your purse. Glancing up, you expect Jimin to be ready with his pose, but he’s looking at you as if you said the most outrageous thing in the world. Eyes wide, mouth downturned in horror. You laugh and place a hand on his arm. “Go, Jimin. This is a special day and special days ask for special pictures.” 

Jimin sighs and nods, despite the fact he doesn’t really look like he wants to do it. 

“Fine, but I’m keeping the coffee in my hand.” 

Your tender laughter prolongs. “Fair enough. Go pose with your little heat pack.” 

Gazing out at the pond, Taehyung is already standing there. With his brown coat over his gray suit, he coalesces with the autumnal scenery and you think he belongs there. That a statue should be made of him right where his feet are planted, for people to remember and appreciate his beauty. You snap a few pictures of him before Jimin makes his way towards the stone bannister and stops right in front of Taehyung, who towers over him. Jimin lifts his cup and smiles a little tight smile, the mist from his coffee eclipsing over him like a soft fog. Switching to portrait mode, Taehyung is gone by the time your screen clears out and shows Jimin by his lonesome self, setting his coffee cup down on the bannister and turning around for some dramatic, aesthetic shots. Taehyung laughs in your ear, catches your slipping purse and places it back on your shoulder, and what he says next gives your life a whole new meaning. 

“Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.”

You pivot back, piercing your sight right through him, not believing those words were just flung out of him like that. Taehyung never mentioned you having a protector while being in the military and even the whole concept of it confuses you even deeper as Jimin is serving as well. He might not be in the special forces like your boyfriend is, but he’s serving nonetheless. The systems are the same, no matter the department. 

Before you can ask him what he meant by that, the sing-song tone of Jimin’s voice reaches you. He calls out your name with a bit of alarm. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You gaze back and meet his eyes in full motion—he’s already taking long steps towards you and grabbing your arm, taking your confusion to another level.  

“What happened?” he asks, his pupils thin dots that ripple through your skin with stiff, panicky electroshocks. You glance back at Taehyung to discover that he’s not standing behind you at all, but behind Jimin, clutching his shoulder. 

You blink. “Nothing.” 

Jimin lets go of your arm and inhales the autumnal air. The pond, suddenly, heaves. 

“Let’s go somewhere warm,” Jimin suggests and you agree with him with a nod of your head. Pinpricks of iciness kisses your fingertips, despite the fact you’re still holding your own cup of coffee that Jimin bought you. 

A strange feeling seizes you. 

The jazz bar is an embrace of snug heat that embraces your womb first before greeting the rest of your body. You can’t help but to touch your baby, say to her in your heart: this is your Daddy’s most favorite place in the whole wide world. And the feeling is so surreal that it washes away the strange sensation that clung to you so heavily. 

You’re the first customers to come. Jimin sighs in absolute relief and he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in time, as he lets the warmth of the place defrost his bones. Your cup of coffee was long finished and discharged; Jimin’s drank his in long sips that took seconds to finish, too, and the whole ordeal was so funny to you that it’s given you a sense of lightness that you needed. 

Taehyung hasn’t spoken a word since you left your apartment. 

He sits at the bar stool like he sat in your shared bedroom. One leg propped on the footrest while the other is relaxed on the floor, one hand folded on the apex of his thigh, the other drumming on the bar while the band he doesn’t know is rehearsing their instruments. You take a seat right beside him and feel like the parents you’re about to become. Sophisticated, classical, sublime. 

The pretentious kind, but in a good way. 

That thought makes you smile softly until the bartender asks you if you’d like anything. You politely decline her, even though you’d love a glass of wine with the daddy to be beside you. You can’t drink, not for many months to come. You wait for her to ask Taehyung the same question, but she doesn’t even lift her eyes to his direction. She wipes down the wood of the bar and leaps away. 

Nobody fucking asks Taehyung anything. 

Amidst a hearty guitar strumming solo, Jimin notices the furrow of your brows, the downturned pout of your mouth that opens to ask Taehyung about the strangeness that keeps occurring today. But before you get the words out, Jimin calls out your name into the microphone, the vowels made sweet by the sound of his princely voice. He stands with the band behind his back, his Hussar jacket exquisitely fitting the dimmed background. He holds out his hand for you, a poignant glint perched on top of his irises, and he flattens his puffy, pink lips. 

“Don’t be sad. Tonight is for Taehyung and all sadness is prohibited,” he says with his feigned announcer articulations, the corners of his mouth rounding in a similar manner to yours, in sympathy. “We will have to kindly ask you to leave if you proceed in your sadness. Please, join me here.” 

You roll your eyes, but the smile gracing your features couldn’t be erased even with the force of the whole wide world. You stand to your feet and paddle your way to him, the heels of your stilettos clicking on the worn parquets. Jimin gives you a soft grin and places his microphone down, meeting you halfway on the dance floor and taking your hand. 

It is when he begins to sing, just for you, that you perceive that the instrumental song the guitarist played is one, which is contained in one of Taehyung’s vinyls. The ones he would play in the darkest of nights and sing the lyrics to your bare body. Tears prick your waterline when Jimin guides you into a gentle slow dance while maintaining the tones of the song with utmost perfection. 

And Taehyung is carried in every languid motion and in every vocal cord that is strained upon this hour in his honor. 

I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me…

You gaze back at Taehyung, who sits still and smiles his boxy smile. Frozen and beautiful, but unbreathing. 

Still and unbreathing. 

Frozen. 

You halt your movements. 

Jimin stops the dance, ends the song with a deep hum that pulses through you along with the notion that something isn’t right, but very, very wrong. 

“I wish Taehyung were here,” Jimin says with a deep sigh, holding both of your hands, and an uncanny, perplexing feeling constricts your throat. 

Your breath shivers, vision blurry. “But he is here.” 

Jimin lets go of your hands and you lament his touch. You need to be touched because you feel yourself shrinking into a fawn most vulnerable that doesn’t know what’s real anymore. A fawn just born, pathetically ignorant of the world and of her loved ones.

“I know, but I wish he were here for real.” 

A cold sweat drips down your spine, paralyzing you. Your constricted throat dries up like a well and you can’t swallow. You can’t think, you can’t blink—your lungs can’t lift to inhale any air and they mirror Taehyung’s still ones, unbreathing. 

It is a surprise to you, the question that flows out of you. 

“Jimin, who is sitting at the bar?” 

A wrinkle forms between his brows as he sweeps his gaze over all those bar stools and doesn’t linger at the occupied space that you know is there. A perturbing energy thuds in his eyes once he returns them to yours, and that alarming potency in him rises once again. 

“Who do you see there?” he asks, carefully, leaving his mouth parted as he anticipates your answer. 

You peer back behind you and don’t find any bar stools occupied. Not single one. 

No Taehyung, smiling his boxy smile. 

No Taehyung behind Jimin. 

No Taehyung behind you. 

A sob rumbles out of you in unison with your realization that you were, indeed, very wrong. You catch your sob, covering your mouth with your fingers as your tears spurt down onto your cheeks. 

And then the memories arrive, the reality.

But Jimin ceases their flow with the warmth of his even more careful question. 

“Did you see him at the park, too?” 

You can only nod, but you can’t look at him. You stare at nothing in particular and it seems that what Jimin has ceased, he allows to stream through the pond of your thoughts, accompanied by his vocalized truth. 

“Taehyung isn’t here. He should’ve been here with us, but he had to go to North Korea. There was a conflict, remember? You know this.” 

Taehyung’s apologetic text message appears before your eyes. The letter that came first before his phone call, where he explained to you that he can’t have his vacation and visit you because he has to go and save his country. The real, known reason between the pair of you and Jimin behind this fun day. To honor Taehyung for what he’s doing. The day you wanted to share, as well, that you were pregnant. 

The aloneness has gotten to you, helped by your blessed state. Confused your mind to the point that you imagined him here when he’s not here at all. 

Jimin calls your name and you glance at him. Perhaps he can see the truth dawning on you by the way pity twists his features. He caresses your arm and leaves his hand there, his heat locking in the realization. 

“What has happened to you?” 

Another onrush of tears clouds your vision. Your spine bends. And you can’t. 

You can’t not tell him. You can’t keep it in. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen and it merely takes him a second to envelop you in his embrace. He coos your name, rubs your back, a whimper resonates in his chest against yours as he holds back his tears. The music falls into nothingness—and nothing is said for a time that appears to be as long as the season of autumn. 

And then, somehow, you’re outside of the jazz club, sitting on Jimin’s Hussar jacket that he put down on the cold ground for you beside him. And the silence continues until it doesn’t. 

“Does he know?” he asks, and you feel his irises gliding across the side of your face that you cannot turn. 

It’s you who’s frozen this time. 

Still and unbreathing. 

With no smiling Taehyung at your hip. 

“I wanted to tell him tonight,” you say, quietly, with your hands helplessly in your lap. “On the day of his vacation that he looked forward to.” 

Jimin sighs, the sound full of that terrible pity. “How far along are you?” 

It’s a question that brings life to your numb hands and you take them to your belly. 

“Three months.” 

A beat of silence. 

You fondle your growing baby. Jimin seems to be watching you, considering his following words, but you fear to move your eyes. Lift them in expectation to see Taehyung only to meet the half-barren trees and the leaves on the ground that have absurdly regained their vivid colors. 

Lift them to look at Jimin and meet the outcome of your autumn-long aloneness. 

“He’ll be back in a month and I’ll talk to the Sergeant and offer my own vacation. I’ll give it up so you can see him and tell him.” 

A sob lodges itself in your throat and you tilt to the side, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder. He, in response, leans his against yours. 

“I don’t think your Sergeant will even hear you out,” you say, humorlessly, your personal pain still prickling the flesh of your heart. 

But then Taehyung’s words wash over you. 

Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.

Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend, who’s been there for him through thick and thin, long before you came into the picture. Jimin, who stuck by your side when sightseeing, and took your pictures. Who devoured dinners with you and drank a whole bottle of liquor with you when Taehyung abstained. 

Jimin, your best friend, too. 

“Will you be here for me while he’s gone?” you ask, the sob in your throat enlarging, preventing you from speaking, but you push through. “So I won't get delusional again?” 

Jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it firmly in your lap, his thumb brushing over your little, half-swollen belly. 

“It’s the least I can do. Let’s get you home.” 

And he does. 

He calls a cab. Walks with you up the stairs, lingers at the door, watches you take off your heels—watches the comprehension of this day being anything but fun take form on your face and posture, and he hugs you. Reassures you that he will be here the whole week until his vacation is over, and even long after that. 

And you nod. Thank him. Turn your head away when he clicks the door shut behind him. Walk over to the window and stifle your tears when you see him head over to the liquor store in front of your apartment and leave with a bottle of spirits hanging from his fingertips. 

And the tears rush out, despite your efforts, when your gaze cascades down onto the windowsill and onto the vase, where white wine-doused tulips stooped in yearning for Taehyung’s touch a few hours ago. 

They aren’t stooping. They’re flaccid, dead and withered. Like the fun day you prepared.

Because Taehyung hasn’t bought any newly blooming tulips in a long while. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist | read part two

[captain-joongz]

Penny for your ghosts; chapter 1

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Hoping for a new beginning, you make a decision and end up at Bangtan Inc. looking for a chance. And somehow unbeknownst to you make a life-defining choice.

Chapter word count: 10k

Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: not much really - a lot of exposition and some spooky stuff happening, sad ghost backstory, jimin is a little shit, yoongi being effortlessly waaaay too hot while also being adorable and sweet

A/N: here we go folks, the first chapter of our sweet autumnal spooky story! i had such a blast writing this, it's been so amazing to work with the Lockwood&Co universe (it made me reread the first book, again), and this story satisfies something in me that yearns for comfort and coziness, so enjoy! as always, i'd love any kind of feedback or response, so don't be shy and comment, reblog, send me an ask!

divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics

Standing face to face with the old-timey mansion, I didn’t really know how to feel.

It looked fairly inconspicuous in the daylight – just another old expensive house built on this street. It was half hidden behind a stone wall, the wrought iron gate giving me a little peek into the bleary autumnal garden slowly getting covered up with fallen leaves.

There was an iron sign nailed to the wall that read “BANGTAN INC., paranormal investigations” and I gave it a long look.

A new beginning, hopefully, was waiting for me beyond this gate, and I gulped, steeling myself into finally ringing the bell instead of just endlessly shuffling around on the street like a weirdo. I felt the pressure of the paper on which I’d written down the address burning through my pocket. It was just a job interview, and yet it felt like a pivotal moment in my life. It was this or back home, to the cold god-forgotten mountains and that prick Lee. He’d have a field day with me if I crawled back, and that’s why I had to ace this.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” a deep voice from somewhere behind me uttered, a touch of amusement to his words. I jerked around, too consumed by my own thoughts to take notice of my surroundings, even with my heightened senses.

A hybrid stood there, a mischievous expression painting his face. He was pretty tall and built, hair cut fairly short and swept off of his face with two black rounded ears standing in attention amidst those spiky waves. His face was rounded and soft. When my eyes slid down towards his hips, there was no tail. He was most probably a bear.

“I’m sorry?” I asked him, subtly trying to search the air for any noticeable scents, but the air was a little too crisp to carry anything. The man only giggled and stepped a little closer.

“I said,” he replied, “I wouldn’t go in there. Heard the house is haunted.” He brought up his hand to wiggle his fingers in a spooky gesture, trying his hardest to sell the scare, but losing to his own amused snickers.

“Hauntings only manifest after sun-down,” I cited monotonal, subconsciously turning my head to check the greyish blue sky. It was still early afternoon and even though autumn was coming, it wouldn’t start getting dark for another few hours.

The hybrid pouted, sad that he couldn’t scare me, and I wondered what exactly was he trying to do here.

“Taehyung, stop messing with everyone walking by,” a firm voice from my left suddenly appeared, softly chiding the still pouting hybrid, “I told you a thousand times.”

Another hybrid appeared suddenly from my periphery and I couldn’t believe I completely missed his presence on the empty street. He must have been walking over and I just didn’t hear him. Or maybe he came from the neighbouring house?

He was of similar height, broad-shouldered but slim. His attractive face was pulled into an amicable polite smile and the brown rounded ears flicked towards me in interest as he took me in. Another bear.

“Hello, dear,” he said towards me, tone much kinder in that ‘I’m talking to a stranger’ sort of way, “Are you a client? Do you need help with a haunting?” There was something undeniably eager in his voice and it gave me a little pause. They were Bangtan Inc.

Caught red-handed loitering in front of their house, I panicked and did something very stupid.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered out maybe a little too fast, lying through my teeth – but the men didn’t notice, no. Their faces immediately brightened, postures straightening. 

“Amazing!” the newcomer exclaimed, hands clapping together. He almost threw himself towards the gate, fumbling with the lock for a few seconds before it creaked open and he invited me to step in with a wide gesture, a tinge of nervousness to him like he was afraid I’d turn around and run.

I didn’t. Instead I offered my own hopefully easy smile and nervously fiddled with my wool hat, hoping it still effectively covered my ears, as I accepted and slowly started on the walk over to the main entrance of the house. The giggley from before quickly slipped in as well, shuffling cutely by the broad-shouldered man’s side.

I had just stepped on the first stone stair of the veranda when the door flew open and I startled, foot slipping on the damp surface. Before I even had the time to yelp, there was a hand on my lower back supporting me.

“Oh my! Be careful!”

“Hyung!”

A few shouts rang out at the same time, but I barely even listened. My hand shot out, almost slapping myself in my own face, trying to keep the headwear in place. I felt my ears twitching underneath it, but it stayed firmly on.

“Thank you,” I muttered, righting myself again and looking towards the third hybrid, “sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No no no, none at all,” the handsome hybrid said, “it was Hoseokie’s fault, he should have been more careful with the door.”

The new hybrid standing in the door was looking at me sheepishly, an embarrassed blush painting his face pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said plainly, red fox ears twitching in his curly hair, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hoseokie, please bring our new client inside and into the sitting room,” there was an understanding that ran through them at the word client, and immediately the fox, Hoseok, turned all professional and beckoned me inside with a practiced friendly smile.

Giggley said nothing since the other bear’s arrival, only hung around in the back of the group, watching me with a strange kind of excitement.

“Please, please, through here,” I found myself pulled through the door and the main hall, under a pretty arch with wooden beams carved into branches with leaves and into what I presumed must have been the aforementioned sitting room.

I wasn’t even sure what that was, must have been a rich people house thing.

The happy fox was flitting around me, fussing with my light coat and assuring me I can step inside with my shoes on. After a barrage of questions about refreshments he danced out of the room, presumably into the kitchen to fetch the promised tea and biscuits.

There was no trace of the other two hybrids, but I heard movement through the house – someone calling a name I couldn’t fully decipher, heavy steady footsteps through a hall, a distant buzz of conversation. Signs of living.

The house smelt happy, lived in. I wanted to go find giggley and argue with him – this house wasn’t haunted; it was a home.

Shuffling a little on the armchair, I felt nervousness sink in. Now that I was here in this situation, I had no idea how to get out of it. The scent suppressant I sprayed on in the morning was going to protect me for a little while more, but if someone really tried I would no doubt be sniffed out without a problem. My ears started to hurt from how I pressed them down in order to not have a suspiciously twitchy hat and no matter how I tried to manoeuvre myself onto the chair, I couldn’t avoid sitting on my tail that was tucked and hidden into the long skirt I wore and protectively curled around my thigh.

I wasn’t even trying to fool them – I wanted the job they offered on the dingy website and for that I had to be a hybrid, but it was easier travelling through the city while pretending to be human – people stared less, whispered less about ghosts and death. It kind of just snowballed from when they assumed I was a client. No other reason for a human to be hanging about a paranormal investigations agency.

I shouldn’t have agreed, but then a strange fear choked me – I wasn’t ready to go in and ask for a chance. It seemed like a great idea to just scope them out, but now it was painfully obvious to me from their joy that not many clients walked through that gate and now I didn’t know how to tell them I wasn’t one.

Before I could spiral further, two hybrids walked into the room – Hoseok and one I haven’t met yet. He was tall, even taller than the two bears, and muscled. Strength radiated off of him, an aura of power that shocked me into silence as I eyed him with something suspiciously close to awe. Something about him was pressing onto my instincts, blanketing my brain with a layer of rightness, safeness. I fought myself not to submit then and there and embarrassment flooded through me.

But at least I wasn’t the only one – from where my eyes caught onto his greyish wolf ears I saw them twitch nervously and then I realised he was actually blushing under my stare, to which I burst into flames even further and politely shifted my eyes to the little table in front of me.

I heard Hosoek’s snickers, but from his relaxed stance I deduced I probably wasn’t the first to get caught into the lure of this hybrid’s aura. It would surprise me if I was.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot and still a little pink, before he regained a little bit of his professionality back.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” he recited smoothly, deep voice like honey, and I blushed a little more, pointedly avoiding Hoseok’s amused eyes, “thank you for choosing our agency to help with your little problem. O-or not little, I mean, it could be a big problem. We can definitely handle anything though, you don’t have to worry.” He stuttered through his little speech miserably, shooting a shy glance towards his companion who was watching with fond eyes.

“Oh Joon,” the little sigh came from behind me and I twirled around to once again come face to face with the brown bear, the man still smiling kindly, “Don’t worry dear, he always gets stuttered up like that.”

He stepped into the room and stuck out his hand in an offered handshake. I quickly fumbled to get on my feet, alleviating the pressure on my poor tail and stumbling in the process, but this time I righted myself before any of the men could. I grabbed his hand with cheeks still red, but with a shy smile back.

“I’m Kim Seokjin,” he introduced himself and then gestured towards the wolf, “and that is Kim Namjoon. He is the owner and the director of Bangtan Inc.” I moved along, offering my hand to the blushing man as well and he took it eagerly yet gently.

I was so distracted by the soft calming grip of his hand that I didn’t even notice the way the wolf sniffed the air and froze, smile melting off into a frown. Namjoon took a step back and his hand got torn out of my hold, and I looked up in alarm worried something happened.

And something did. The man was watching me with apprehension, no trace of the smiling shy man – in his place stood a powerful hybrid sensing a threat. And I immediately understood what happened.

“W-wait!” I exclaimed, “I can explain, I promise!”

The other two hybrids in the room also took a cautious step back, following the director’s lead and I realised – they must have been a pack and he must have been their alpha. That would explain the reaction of my body I was faced with upon seeing him for the first time.

“Why are you trying to sneak into my house?” the question came out a lot unfriendlier than I was used from these hybrids, but I couldn’t blame him – I had unknowingly tried to cheat the alpha of the house and that was a big offense between hybrids, especially since I was a stranger to his pack.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, also slowly backing away from the man now that he was so high-strung about my proximity. His packmates watched us with confusion, but I saw the realisation slowly sink into their faces, so I decided to stop the farce and reached for the hat, yanking it off. It was impolite to keep headwear on inside anyway, and I know that wasn’t lost on Hoseok since he tried to take it off for me even though I insisted on keeping it.

Their gasps were less shocked by now, both of them anticipating something like that to be the revelation, but I was sure it was more a reaction to opening a whole new level of information about me. The ears were undeniably feline, even though I wouldn’t blame them for not recognising them, and now that I finally unfurled my tail, it started peeking out from the bottom of my long skirt – that was the one cons about it – it was very long, impractically so.

I saw their eyes trained on the fluffy tip of the appendage, their faces written with their attempts to guess what kind of feline I was.

Not Namjoon though, the wolf was staring me down, eyes shining bronze and posture tense, tail ram-rod straight in a show of dominance. I crumpled into myself a little, showing him I wasn’t a threat even though I entered his territory under false pretences.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, alpha,” the name slipped out of my mouth quite naturally, even though I’ve never lived with wolves before – this man just made it easy to submit. He did relax slightly then, but his senses were still alert, no doubt driving him insane because he couldn’t fully smell me.

“I saw the job offer and I came to ask about it, but when I got surprised at the gate by the bears, I panicked and agreed to come in as a client,” I quickly explained, hoping this wouldn’t end up with me kicked out and no prospects of a future employment, “It was stupid of me, I should have thought more carefully about entering a stranger’s territory while pretending to be human.”

That seemed to have diffused the situation completely and I finally sighed out in relief when Namjoon moved, shoulders relaxed a smidge more and only a trace of mistrust on his face. I was proper ashamed though, and watching the floor with burning face, ears pressed into my head so hard it hurt.

Then I sensed Seokjin moving closer before he gently laid a hand on my shoulder, leading me back into the armchair just as Hoseok shook out of his stupor and started serving the tea and biscuits he brought over. Namjoon still stood still on the opposite side, by the dark brown sofa, but he didn’t seem as hostile anymore.

“You little dummy,” Seokjin teased, and had it been said by anyone else with a different intonation, I would have been mad, but his words only made me blush more, shy and embarrassed. Then he looked over at his packmate and tsked gently.

“Come on Joon, cut her some slack,” he chided, “she was caught off guard because Taehyung started teasing her with the whole ‘the house is haunted’ thing he does.” That had the man relaxing completely and he finally sunk down into the sofa, Hoseok joining him shortly and making himself comfortable in the huge pillows.

There was a light disapproving tint to his expression, but mostly he just looked fondly exasperated, shaking his head slightly and chuckling under his breath.

“I told him a thousand times to stop doing that, it makes people nervous and then they don’t ring the doorbell,” he muttered much the same words as Seokjin had before on the street, and the fight drained out of my body when I realised I really wasn’t going to get kicked out.

“I’m still sorry,” I piped up carefully, gathering the hot mug into my hands and cuddling up to it on instinct before I stopped myself. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one afternoon.

“So you’re interested in the job, then?” Namjoon changed the subject smoothly, fully settling into his director persona. I nodded eagerly and watched Seokjin walk over to the sofa and sit down elegantly, direct opposite of the lounging fox that now sat with a pillow squished into his arms.

“I got interested because it mentioned you are a hybrid run agency without human supervision,” I told him and the effect of my words was clear.

Human supervision was a concept as old as PI (paranormal investigations) agencies themselves, hybrids weren’t even allowed to own and run them up until like fifty years ago, and even after human supervision was a standard occurrence.

Even though humans had no affinity for the paranormal (some were a little more sensitive to it then others, especially when it came to children) it still ingrained itself as some sort of a staple of quality of agencies – those that didn’t have human supervisors were often ostracised and disadvantaged, there were quite strong smear campaigns against them and people still held mistrust towards them.

If investigators made mistakes that cost lives or destroyed property at an agency with human supervision, nobody thought anything of it, but if the same happened in agencies without, they were often dragged through the mud and sometimes even shut down after “thorough investigations”. It was more than unfair – it was discrimination. Most humans still saw us as animals and therefore incapable of having the same judgements and freedoms as humans did. They didn’t trust the hybrids that risked their lives to make their homes safe again, they rather turned to the humans that accompanied them in and did nothing.

Most human supervisors were older, still very much in the mindset that hybrids weren’t supposed to have their own opinions, and they were absolutely useless in the face of the paranormal – they were a bunch of pricks drunk on their own power, barking orders they didn’t fully understand, putting investigators into difficult spots and overriding their decisions according to a manual that was outdated and unflexible.

But even though you truly couldn’t find a single hybrid that was happy about this still being a thing, due to the industry pressure they still rather chose to work with them – because working against them was virtually impossible and most of those little stubborn groups usually ended up bankrupt pretty fast. The biggest names were still big corporations that built their traditions on the humans in charge of the operations, and if you wanted to have a successful career or even to be able to make a living, you still had to grovel at their feet and beg for an opportunity.

The dark shadows that overtook the three hybrids’ faces at the mention of human supervision perfectly reflected the grim reality of PI industry.

“No, no humans here,” the wolf stated firmly, “we are fully operated by hybrids. We don’t allow any kind of outside intervention, during the investigations everything is fully in the hands of the operatives.” I nodded, satisfied.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, but didn’t elaborate any further. Most hybrids had bad experiences with their supervisors, so I imagine they must have understood pretty clearly where I was coming from.

“Do you have a resume?” Seokjin asked, bringing the attention back onto the topic at hand. I fumbled with my bag, fighting to pull out the slightly crumpled piece of paper that was pitifully empty, and I flushed under his inquisitive eyes when he caught sight of the free spaces.

I had pretty standard qualifications – I did have all of them, I finished all of my education, but it was nothing special. Everyone that successfully graduated from high school and finished their courses had the same ones (and there was a lot of us). There was some experience from practical education, a part-time job as a graveyard guard and a brief stint at the local office of Black Guard Corp., one of the three giants in the PI industry.

It really didn’t take a long time for the three men to skim through it, it actually felt embarrassingly fast before their gazes shifted back to me, appraising me and searching for at least a sliver of talent.

“Oh, you’re from all the way up north,” Hoseok exclaimed, “Got tired of the mountains?” I chuckled somewhat humourlessly.

“Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. A lot of reclusive communities up in the north – a lot of stigma and not much to do, so it wasn’t that strange that young people moved towards bigger cities searching for modernity and understanding.

“One of our packmates is also from the area,” Hoseok said emphatically, smiling my way, “he moved down as soon as he hit eighteen.” A noise of understanding clawed out of my throat completely unbidden and I awkwardly coughed.

“Yeah, it’s fairly normal,” I replied, “I was one of the few young people left in our village.” Silence barely settled over us when Namjoon broke it again.

“You wrote Hearing and Touch as your strongest senses,” the wolf asked, tapping at the paper where presumably those words were written, “can you elaborate on that a little?”

Those hybrids that had talent (meaning a sense for the paranormal) all mostly had a little bit of everything when it came to the three main senses – sight, smell and hearing. Even if sight wasn’t your strongest sense, you still saw just not as clearly as others. If sight was your strongest sense, you still were able to smell or hear to a certain extent. But usually every investigator had a sense that was stronger than others.

Of course there were levels – someone’s strongest sense could still be weak compared to another person, but it was what he relied upon the most when it came to gathering information about the haunting. Those who had exceptionally strong senses could manifest rare gifts tied to their talents – like those with extremely strong sight could be able to see energy traces, or those with a superior sense of hearing could actually communicate with some of the ghosts.

Touch was a bit of a wild card. It was a considerably rare gift – not that it was super hard to find someone with the capability, but that usually it was very weak. A lot of people who manifested this already rare gift couldn’t actually do much with it and mostly just caught echoes. It was also a gift that only tacked onto a heightened sense of hearing or smell, as that made it stronger.

Touch allowed for the investigator to strike up a connection between themselves and an object closely related to the ghost, it showed them visions – of the ghost’s memories, of their life. Sometimes it shed light onto their motivations to stay behind, sometimes the visions more showed what kind of person they were. Most of the times it made you go through the worst moments of their life – and their death.

It was a dangerous ability that consumed you from within, left you vulnerable. Those with particularly strong Touch often went mad through the years of endless investigations and ended up shells of their former selves.

And mine was – it was on its way there too. It was my greatest pride and my biggest weakness, all at once.

“Do you have anyone else with Touch?” I asked instead of answering at first. The trio on the couch showed their interest was definitely piqued but they let me get away with the small distraction.

Hoseok nodded at the same time as Seokjin said “yes”, and they looked at each other before the fox gestured for the bear to continue.

“We do, we have two,” he replied with a gentle smile, “Jiminie has the same set as you, but his touch isn’t particularly strong. Taehyungie, you met him outside, has smell and touch. His are a little stronger, but he mostly just complains that all he gets are terrible scents.” I chuckled at that.

“I can imagine. I used to know this ferret with the same combination and she always whined that it just makes the smells worse,” the anecdote made me relax even more as I thought back to the few good people I met through my old agency and remembered the reasons for why I stayed there for such a long time. Well, if a few months could be considered a long time. Then I took a deep breath.

“Well, both of my senses are quite… pronounced,” I admitted. People with Touch had to be careful about their talents – either it made you vulnerable to exploitation or you were seen as an emotional wreck and a liability. It was hard to say what people’s reaction would be – that’s why I always asked about their own operatives first.

“Are you getting full visions?” Namjoon asked, and his voice was carefully neutral to make me more at ease. I nodded.

“Yeah. My hearing is pretty strong too, usually I was one of the most alert ones in my team,” I told him, wringing my hands in my lap as I recalled my earlier job, “my touch was what I excelled in though. Full visions, manifestations of emotions, the whole shebang.” The men seemed a little troubled but mostly I recognised worry for my health in those gazes, and while it was one of the pitfalls, I was at least glad they didn’t seem to be strangely excited about my talents. Sometimes we could be seen as an easy way to fame and money, and I’d rather starve than work for a company like that.

“Have you ever successfully carried out a conversation with an apparition?” this time it was Seokjin who asked, and I nodded quickly.

“Once, but she was really confused,” I replied eagerly, “I wasn’t able to get much out of her, it was like she drifted in and out of awareness.” Sometimes the hearing ability worked both ways – when ghosts were weak or low levels according to the manuals, they weren’t really capable of communicating. Maybe they said something here or there, but they weren’t fully conscious and aware. The stronger the apparition, the higher the level, the bigger the chance that they would hear you and answer – but just as there was a barrier that allowed only some to hear them, the barrier carried over certain voice better than others. Therefore if you were skilled at hearing, you also had a higher chance of being heard by the ghost.

The strongest apparitions could freely hold a conversation and hear everyone, even if others couldn’t hear them. From what I read, they were usually quite the pieces of work and annoying to talk to.

“That does happen quite often,” Seokjin sighed, folding himself back into the settee, “Most of the conversations with the dead are quite frustrating. Either because they don’t hear you or because they do and you wish they didn’t.” It sounded like he truly spoke from experience, and I did have to agree with him, even though I haven’t bumped into a fully aware ghost yet. I thought it quite safe to assume Seokjin’s affinity was also hearing, then.

“Well, let me quickly introduce you to the offered position,” Namjoon hijacked the conversation again, leaning forward to look a little more professional, “There’s seven of us in total and we usually work in teams of three or four, depending on the danger level. We try to take turns, but often we found ourselves in situations where we didn’t have time both for business and for basic upkeep of the house and such.” I nodded in understanding.

“People in the summer usually feel emboldened by the long days,” the wolf continued, “so we had a slow period, but with the start of autumn and winter the fear will set in again and they’ll be desperate enough to go even to a small hybrid run agency, so we usually get busier, especially here in the local area. We need a helper. I think the offer said an assistant and a junior operative. Basically someone who will fill in the blank spaces – keep the house tidy when everyone is either busy with investigations, resting or researching. Tag along when we could use a helping hand out in the field. Make sure we’re fully stocked up, double check we have all the supplies in our bags and belts. Help out Hoseok with taking calls, caring for customers when they come here. A little bit of everything to make it easier for us, so we can fully focus on our other tasks.” I hummed again and gestured for him to continue.

“In return we offer lodging here in the house, help with training and gaining more experience with both field and off-field work, like researching, orienting yourself in libraries, archives, what you have the authorisation to do and to ask for, such things. We offer full gear – a new rapier, salt bombs, magnesium bombs, shoes, coats, protective glasses – anything you might need or ask for. We’d take you with us to investigations, show you the ropes, train you to be a full operative.” There Namjoon stopped and wavered a little, hesitation creeping into his face.

I assumed that this was where it usually all fell apart for him, so I straightened in the armchair and waited with bated breath what would follow.

“I know it seems a lot, but it could be a good opportunity,” the wolf smiled at me, the shyness and kindness he displayed earlier before I was found out shining through once more, “Of course… it won’t pay as much as if you worked for Black Guard or the Iron Sword, but it’s still a good pay, more than enough to live comfortably. And as I said, you can live here so that will lower living costs as well…” I released a big huff in relief. I see, so he was worried about money.

The trio of hybrids didn’t seem to know how to interpret my reaction, so I gave them a huge toothy grin, a real one, that channelled just how interested I was in the position. It was perfect for me and I could use the community, the variety and the opportunity to learn.

“No, that sounds perfect,” I told him, and I meant every word of it. That put blinding smiles on their faces as well, and suddenly Hoseok was jumping to his feet and clapping his hands, once again scaring the living shit out of me.

This time he looked a lot less sheepish and a lot more amused as he said sorry, and then he was beckoning me to follow him out of the sitting room. The other two men chuckled fondly, but followed after him, nodding at me to come with them.

“We’re going to test you a little,” Namjoon explained, eyes searching the sky outside through a window in the hall, “I hope it’s not too early for a little ghostly activity.”

The sitting room was the first room you’d see when you stepped inside the house, but there was actually a similar room to the other side of the entrance hall, only stylised into a darker green instead of the browns and beiges of the one we were sitting at.

The entrance hall then opened into a huge room dominated by an old staircase leading to a little corridor that disappeared on both ends deeper into the house. The backdrop of the corridor though was an absolutely massive window made of stained glass that painted together a flowering meadow with a forest on the horizon. It was a little faded, the colours a little dull, but obviously well-loved and cared for, and it stole my breath away.

On the ground floor the room opened to corridors on the sides that similarly disappeared deeper, but on the left side there had to be a kitchen, because the corridor carried to me absolutely delicious smells, and sounds of a knife hitting a cutting board in a steady rhythm. I almost salivated upon smelling that, and wished I could weasel myself into staying for dinner, but instead I followed the men to the right, away from the tantalising scents.

We passed two sets of double doors made from dark polished wood. One was cracked open and I clearly heard giggles and a hushed conversation coming from there, recognising one of those voices as the deep baritone of the black bear that was trying to scare me outside. He was the one of the two with touch, and if I managed to get this job, I couldn’t wait to talk to them about their gift. Up in the north there was only one other girl with touch – the ferret hybrid that had smell as her other sense, but since her touch wasn’t as strong, our experiences with it were completely different.

But that’s not where we were going – the three hybrids continued to the end of the hall where another set of dark-wood doors sat firmly closed. Namjoon fished out a bundle of keys from his pants, and I couldn’t believe the chunky ball of iron fit into his trousers without bulging out uncomfortably.

There were two locks on the door and I promptly realised where he was taking me.

Every agency had a storage room – a place where all the dangerous things sat properly handled and out of reach to anyone that didn’t know how to work with them and could get hurt. That meant everything from spare rapiers and magnesium bombs to active artefacts – ghost sources with their apparitions still attached to them.

A source could be anything that bound a ghost to the place of haunting and allowed them to come back – objects that were loved during their life, objects that were tied to their death or quite straightforwardly, their remains. Sometimes the ghosts were tied to a certain space, and those cases were the most annoying, because there wasn’t much you could do about it – especially if it was a random spot in the middle of a forest or an actively lived-in house.

Operative’s job was to investigate the haunting, find the source and handle it – with salt, iron or silver, depending on the strength of the ghost. Those materials acted as a buffer and eliminated all chances of the ghost slipping through into our world again – it locked the door, one could say. Some ghosts could be chased away with a little bit of salt or a sprinkle of iron filings, but some had to have their sources wrapped in silver and destroyed in fire – those were the most dangerous ones.

Certain artefacts were allowed to be kept as trophies, even though no one really kept an eye on that. The black market was very profitable and unfortunately a lot of people that were supposed to be regulators themselves dabbled in it and collected strong active sources. So the rule of thumb was that regular sources were disposed of in the furnaces while the ones tied to famous cases were kept – people didn’t really care for grandpa Smith’s old walking stick, but they sure were interested in the remains of blood-thirsty ghosts that terrorised and killed until they were swiftly handled by an agency – getting rid of an artefact like that could be a huge PR hit for companies, and they were usually safely showed off in their headquarters to forever burn into people’s memories that they were the ones closing that case.

I assumed Namjoon was taking me to a similar trophy case to gauge the strength and depth of my senses.

Unlike the showy glass buildings of big corporations, Bangtan’s headquarters were situated in the basement under their house – it was mostly one big spacious room with walls made of red bricks and a floor of stone tiles. There were three tables there, covered in paperwork, and one wall was lined with filing cabinets, which must have been filled with old, closed cases.

A little light shined in through small oblong windows near the ceiling, so I was grateful when someone flicked a switch and artificial lights came on with a low hum.

And then I saw it – deeper into the space where two smaller rooms, cutting the space unevenly in half – and the wall facing us currently still standing by the door was covered with luminescent shelves.

It wasn’t the shelves themselves that shined – it was their contents.

There weren’t many artefacts, in fact most of the shelves were completely empty, but they made up for it with their brightness. Usually the brighter the source was, the stronger the ghost tied to it – and these were some potent sources.

I made a little panicked noise at the back of my throat, ears flattening to my head and tail flicking with agitation. I pointed towards the wall and then looked to the men with wide scared eyes.

“You can’t open those, look how bright they are even in the middle of the day!” I exclaimed and the men laughed lightly.

Namjoon leisurely made his way over towards the wall, and in my panic I followed him, heart beating out of my throat. But once there, he didn’t reach towards any of the sources encased in glass tubes infused with silver and iron for safe-keeping, he actually turned toward one of the shelves I previously thought was empty.

Only, when I came closer I realised it was lined with passive sources – ones that used to be tied to a ghost who was either destroyed and left their source behind or chose to move on, or just simply were charged with energy of a haunting and not the apparition itself. They were no longer dangerous and mostly deserted of any activity.

The wolf whispered around with the fox for a little while, hands lingering on certain objects as they deliberated on which they wanted to give me as a test. Seokjin stood to the other side of me, eyes glued to the active sources as if he looked for something specific.

I waited with bated breath to see when his eyes lit up with recognition, eager to know what it was, but I was interrupted by Namjoon’s deep voice as he beckoned me closer.

I looked to them and saw that both he and Hoseok had an object in their hands, having chosen their favourite. Namjoon carefully cradled an intricately carved wooden comb – it was absolutely beautiful and it looked very old and frail, with some of its teeth broken or missing.

He nudged his hands to me, motioning for me to pick it up.

“Tell me this comb’s story, Y/N,” he said, and the sudden appearance of my name shocked me enough to flinch in surprise. I realised I never actually introduced myself to them, the whole clusterfuck of a situation derailing the usual pleasantries – he had to have read it on my resume.

With blushing cheeks I rushed to grab it, careful to give it the same gentle consideration as the wolf did. The last thing I wanted was to break it.

At first I felt nothing. I heard the men’s breathing, the wild beating of all our hearts as the anticipation gripped us. I heard the faint clanks coming from the kitchen on the floor above. I felt my ears twitch as they tried to focus on the echoes of things long gone instead of the very present and very alive hybrids.

Anxiety spilled through me and I squirmed. Slowly I felt myself sink into panic, brain running its mouth telling me that I was useless and couldn’t even feel the object, that they’d laugh at me, they’d hate me. They’d kick me out and I’d have to go back home, embarrassed and defeated. I wouldn’t be able to impress them, I was a sham, a phony. I had nothing to offer anyone. I was worthless. Maybe I should just-

The thought startled me into a more present grounded mindset, and I ashamedly realised that due to me being nervous about the test I hadn’t noticed when I slipped into my ability. Those weren’t my thoughts, but whoever once owned this comb had a really bad time.

Shakily I dropped the comb back into Namjoon’s waiting hands, noting the concern on his face at my queasy expression. Hoseok was standing next to him still holding his own item, but his eyes were wide and a little scared.

“Are you okay dear?” Seokjin suddenly asked me, hands settling on my shoulders as he spun me around, “You suddenly got really pale.” I nodded hurriedly, using the sleeve of my sweater to dry off some of the accumulated sweat on my face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine, sorry,” I stuttered out, turning back to Namjoon and looking straight into his worried eyes, “The woman who wore this comb killed herself, didn’t she? She felt worthless – someone had left her. Maybe the very person who gave her the comb.” The devastation hit the wolf’s face as soon as I was finished speaking.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I’ve never met anyone with touch as strong as yours, I didn’t realise you’d feel it so intensely,” he said, comb long forgotten discarded haphazardly on the shelf.

To say I was surprised would be an understatement – the genuine remorse at putting me through an experience like that, even unknowingly – it was enough to make me blush under his brown gentle eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s my ability and I’ve learnt to deal with it,” I told him softly, “I just got a little surprised, I wasn’t paying enough attention and let it suck me in a little.” He looked like he saved my words into memory for later use, like he wanted to make sure to help me along the way to not slip into the memories as easily again, and I flushed again, warmth spreading through my chest.

I’d never met anyone so invested in the well-being of their operatives. Which was quite sad, thinking about it.

“Was I right, though?” I enquired, and he shook out of his stupor, looking at me, then at the comb, then back at me and then as if everything caught up with him he nodded quickly.

“Yeah, her actual source were her remains – they got stuck deep in the mud in the river she drowned herself in, but the comb was in her hands and carried over the aura of her haunting,” the wolf explained eagerly, “she was mostly just sitting around on the bank, scaring off some of the local children who felt unsafe there due to her aura. She wasn’t dangerous at all, just really sad.” I felt a pained pang in my heart, some of the unsettled feelings and thoughts from her last moments still lingering in the corners of my soul.

“That’s incredibly heart-breaking,” I whispered, eyes glued to the beautiful accessory.

Before I could spiral any deeper into those thoughts, Hoseok awkwardly cleared his throat, hands hanging in the air between us unsure of whether he should offer the artefact or not. Everybody’s attention was drawn to him and Namjoon was just about to open his mouth to protest, when I beat him to it by grabbing the little thingy.

It was a really fancy pen, felt and looked new, like it would still write if I tried it on a piece of paper, and its ghostly traces were incredibly weak. This time I was more cautious as I examined it, rolling it around in my hands, eyes closed and fingers trying to feel every ridge, every scratch.

There wasn’t much. Almost nothing actually. I caught some waves, but they fizzled out as quickly as they appeared, leaving me with little fragments here and there. I tried again to make sure, but came to the conclusion that this item couldn’t have been tied to a haunting. It felt more like they just took it from the deceased’s house than anything else.

“Umm, are you sure this is what you wanted me to touch?” I asked hesitantly, “It’s just that there’s not much here. I feel mostly just stress from it, but it’s very fragmented.” At my words everyone in the room chuckled, Hoseok’s face heating up until he was as red as a tomato.

“Good job,” Namjoon said, snickering in amusement and looking towards the embarrassed fox, “this isn’t an actual haunted item or an artefact. It’s one of those fancy pens they advertise to ghost hunters because it has an outer layer of silver on it. Well, Hoseokie-hyung here bought it as a joke and it ended up saving his life. But turns out that the energy of coming into contact with ghost plasm holds onto it well and it’s kind of cursed now.” That definitely caught my attention and I looked at the hybrid who was shooting daggers into the wolf.

“He was being a big old dummy and while handling the sources marked for destruction he dropped one and the case broke,” Seokjin jumped in to continue the story, “he had nothing but the pen in hand and he had to fend off a very angry and a very confused apparition. We heard him screaming and all ran here as fast as we could to see him running around the basement waving around a silver pen and hysterically yelling at a ghost.” At this point I was giggling along with the men, the fox laughing along too as if he saw the visual his mate was painting as well.

“It was the best day of my life,” Namjoon sighed through snickers, “I almost didn’t want to help him because it was too funny.”

“I love to hear that you’d let me die for your entertainment, Joonie,” the man in question grumbled, but it was all in good nature, that much was obvious through their fond looks they threw each other.

As the laughter died down, a more serious expression settled onto Seokjin’s face and he gazed back onto the shelves with active sources, this time eyes immediately locking onto a specific case that glowed strongly with cold, steely blue light.

The other two men quietened the second they recognised what the bear was looking at, ears flinching and flattening to their heads.

“I was curious about what you’d tell us about an item we have here,” Seokjin started explaining, a far-away look in his eyes, “but seeing how strong of a reaction you had to the comb, I think we better not.” I looked towards the case, head tilted in consideration.

It was obvious there was something different, something strange, about that specific artefact – and judging by their nervous stances it wasn’t anything good.

“I can try,” I said easily, moving towards the shelf. Seokjin made an aborted panicked sounds, hands shooting up to stop me, but ultimately he let me walk past him and do what I wanted. I turned back, looking at the men watching me with scared but curious expressions, I steeled myself and looked at it properly.

It was fairly small – a single skeleton finger with a bejewelled ring stuck onto it. I wasn’t sure what they exactly expected from that. I clearly couldn’t take it out as the apparition would no doubt immediately manifest, and you really couldn’t feel through the glass.

But oh how quickly I realised I was wrong about that. I raised my hand, hearing the gasps of the three hybrids, reached for it and promptly stopped. I felt almost paralysed with the wave of dark resentful energy rolling off of it in thick waves, so thick that I was almost choking on them.

Whoever that ghost was, he was strong, angry and dangerous enough for his energy to manifest even through protective silver casing. Panic gripped me, just blind fear that this shouldn’t be here – this shouldn’t be anywhere. Suddenly I was stumbling back, tripping over my own feet to put distance between me and whatever that thing was.

My wild terrified eyes found Namjoon’s own worried ones and I couldn’t hold back a whimper clawing its way out of my throat.

“What the fuck,” I gritted through my teeth, “is that? Why the fuck is that here?” The alpha seemed to be fighting off his instincts, my palpable fear and the whimper must have put him in for a spin to try and calm me down, but we didn’t know each other at all for any attempts to be appropriate.

I realised I was shaking, the hand with which I almost grabbed the artefact cold and frozen to the bone.

“It was one of our biggest cases,” Seokjin whispered, voice gentle and monotone as he slowly started moving towards me trying not to scare me more, “a nasty piece of shit, a killer in life and a killer in death. Jimin refuses to get any closer to it, says it gives him the creeps even through the glass. He’s been telling us it has an aura even through the protection case and here or there tries to persuade us to get rid of it. None of us can feel much, just that it has bad energy, so I got curious… I’m glad you didn’t touch it. Those are some memories you don’t want to see.”

The bear hybrid managed to get all the way to me, his soft grip to my shoulder grounding me into the present and finally breathing some warmth back into my frozen scared body. I relaxed enough to let him start dragging me back towards the stairs, the two other hybrids guiltily tagging along.

“Jimin has a fucking point,” I replied, “That thing should be destroyed.” There was still a slight tremble to my hands, and I realised for the first time that day I was feeling extremely cold. I mechanically forced my feet to carry me a stair after a stair, yearning for the cosy vibe of the sitting room and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

“Told you,” a new voice joined us from up the stairs and I jerked to look up, coming face to face with a pretty boy with big eyes and plump lips. White ears stuck out excitedly from a mop of black silky hair, but I couldn’t gauge what kind of hybrid he was.

“Jimin,” Seokjin sighed, pulling me closer to his side, “please go start up a fire in the green room.” The boy said nothing more, only winked at me good-naturedly and then disappeared back into the house.

When we made it into the green room – which was the sitting room across the one we were in before – there indeed was a fireplace and an excited hybrid loading it with wood. I looked at his snow-white fluffy tail, the shape of it flaring out a little towards the end, and realised he was another fox, an arctic one. He must have been the hybrid Hoseok was talking about before, the one that moved down here from up north.

“After that I’m afraid I must insist you stay for dinner,” Seokjin spoke again, voice firm and leaving no space for objections. And it was the polite thing to do, to object and pretend like I wasn’t dying to sit down by the fire and eat, but just that afternoon I wouldn’t – I was too tired and too shaken. I wanted that damn food and I’d take it.

“Thank you so much,” I whispered only, letting the man fuss over me with a blanket. Shortly after he ushered Namjoon and Hoseok away with him, muttering something about guests and Yoongi, which I didn’t fully comprehend.

Jimin still sat down by the fireplace, kindling the little fire and feeding it paper, but then he turned to me and watched me with interested curious eyes for a moment.

“You got the touch?” he asked finally, and I simply nodded. Another moment of silence.

“Did you touch the finger?” this question came a little quieter. I saw the warring emotions in his eyes – excitement over meeting someone with the same gift, apprehension of the cursed object and a worry over my well-being. I was grateful to him, to his easy friendliness that put me at ease.

“No… I couldn’t,” I whispered the reply, but he understood, he did all too well. He gave me an empathetic smile, which quickly melted into a smirk.

“Maybe now Joonie-hyung will finally listen to me and do something about that awful thing,” he teased, giggling and pulling me along with him.

I was just about to open my mouth with my own smart remark when a new face stormed into the room, immediately stopping in his tracks upon seeing me bundled up in the blankets in an armchair by the fire.

He was small, noticeably so once Seokjin arrived as well and stood next to him, but his form was obviously strong and lean, a quite typical build for a classically trained operative. He must have been a terror with rapiers, it was written all over him.

“Aish, I leave you three alone for an hour and this is what you do?” he scolded the guiltily looking trio, “Look at that poor kid, you totally traumatised her!” Jimin on the ground was giggling, watching their pulled back ears with delight, but I just sheepishly sunk further into the chair, cheeks pink over how strongly the unknown hybrid defended me.

Movement by his legs caught my eye and I finally noticed the kind of hybrid he was – that was definitely a white tiger tail swishing wildly behind him! I physically felt my ears perk up as my back straightened and my own tail raised in interest, which brought even more colour to my cheeks and stuttered up the black-haired man in the middle of his spiel.

Soon he was blushing too, and I realised he was reading my body language and I’ve just given myself away, quite spectacularly.

I felt the intense need to explain myself but there wasn’t really much to say – I was excited to meet another feline hybrid, one that wasn’t of my own community – because I’ve never met another cat outside the ones I grew up with, and those weren’t exactly great. But I just looked like I totally had the hots for him (which I totally didn’t).

“N-no- I mean- I just- I’ve never met a tiger hybrid,” I finally pushed out, ignoring Jimin’s teasing shit-eating grin where he sat by my feet next to the fireplace. Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin were watching me with open fascination, which was definitely better than the anger I was imagining they would feel over me obviously being into their mate (which I wasn’t!!! It was a misunderstanding, nothing more!!!).

The tiger in question shifted on his feet, hand going to scratch behind the striped ear, his own characteristics now betraying a curiosity and interest on his part. His gaze swept over my features, passive but warm.

“You’re a snow leopard, aren't you?” he asked and where Namjoon’s voice was deep and smooth, Taehyung’s voice was deep and sweet, this hybrid’s voice was deep and raspy, sending me into a whole new spiral at hearing it.

I barely even managed to nod, embarrassedly pulling my tail and pushing it into my lap before it divulged even more of my secrets. Jimin was smirking at me as if he knew exactly what I was going through, and I kind of wanted to kick him a little.

“I suppose you came down here fairly recently then? Your folk only mostly only lives up in the mountains and they’re pretty reclusive…” he asked some more, angling more towards me and I felt my treacherous tail twitch in my hands.

“Yeah, it was a pretty tight community,” I told him easily, “They’re not exactly… forward and… open-minded.” It felt weird to be sharing such a private information with people I’d just met a few hours ago, but apart from the fact that this was something mostly all hybrids kind of knew, in those hours they managed to make me trust their judgement and believe that even if I wouldn’t end up getting employed by them, they still cared for my comfort.

But subverting all my expectations, the hybrid who up until now stayed fairly neutral even with a soft blush to his cheeks suddenly smirked at me, taking in my wide-eyes and flushed face before saying: “Well, it’s an honour for me to be your first tiger.” and walking out nonchalantly.

The trio that he originally came in here while scolding them stood there wordlessly, eyes flitting between my embarrassed form, a little too amused Jimin and the empty space where the tiger used to stand. Then Hoseok made a non-descript delighted noise in the back of the throat, launching into a sprint while screaming at the top of his lungs: “Jungkookie, you have competition!”

I was very much confused, but judging from Namjoon’s embarrassed blush and Jimin’s outright evil snickers, I probably didn’t want to know.

Seokjin smiled blindingly and then walked away again, while Namjoon slowly slinked into the room and made himself comfortable at the other armchair, still watching me glare at the laughing Jimin with wide eyes.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect this outcome when you sneaked in today,” the wolf muttered, but there was a grin gently pulling at his lips. I was too embarrassed to banter and the attempt at a smile came out more as a grimace, so I just sunk deeper into the armchair and stubbornly looked on into the fire, ignoring the two giggling men.

“I’m sorry though,” Namjoon said quietly suddenly. I looked at him confused and I was surprised by the guilty expression on his face. “I’m sure this wasn’t the most pleasant of first meetings,” the hybrid muttered sheepishly, a bit of shame settled into his features.

“Namjoon-ssi, I made the decision to touch the source,” I told him firmly, hoping to alleviate some of his worry, “Seokjin-ssi was clear that I probably shouldn’t, but I wanted to try. You did nothing wrong.” The wolf didn’t seem much appeased, but he at least eased up a little, a little bit of determination creeping into his eyes.

“I’m going to get a bigger case and put it as a second barrier,” he proudly stated, more to himself than to us, and me and Jimin shared a glance before promptly bursting out into a fit of giggles. A sort of warmth settled into me, especially as distinctly recognisable voice of the brown bear shouted from somewhere that dinner will be ready shortly.

“Would be foolish to hope you’d like to accept the offer?” the question came out of nowhere, even Namjoon himself looking a little shy though he was the one who said it. I froze. Jimin stopped laughing. The happy chatter flowing in from the kitchen died down and everything settled into a buzz of anticipation.

The house was suddenly plunged into silence that I hadn’t heard since I stepped in, and the longer I was shocked at his words, the more I could see the alpha spiral that I’d inevitably reject him.

“I wasn’t aware you were waiting for my answer,” I uttered, teasing cheekiness creeping into my voice, and Jimin’s face once more morphed into a beautiful smile, “But I’d love to accept.” Namjoon smiled in relief, but both of our attentions were snatched by giggles coming from the artic fox.

“Of course she accepts hyung,” Jimin reiterated, “she wants to keep her first tiger.”

I’d never wished for the ground to swallow me so hard as I did in that moment.

Thank you for reading <3

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