#lonely dancers? eye of the night??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

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bad idea, right? | f. odair

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summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,

notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so… enjoy :)

word count: 4.6k

Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.

Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.

You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.

Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.

“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”

To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.

“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.

The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.

She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”

“Did you get a name?!”

After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.

With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”

Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.

Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Finnick.”

********

Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.

Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.

A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.

Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.

Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”

“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”

You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.

“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”

“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”

“Thanks, mum!”

You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.

Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.

District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.

Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.

Oh, fuck me.

He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.

“Finnick,” you greeted.

“Y/N.”

He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.

Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.

Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.

“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”

You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.

“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”

“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”

Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”

He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”

“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”

Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.

You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?

Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.

But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.

Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.

So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.

In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”

He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”

And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”

Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”

You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.

“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”

Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.

This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”

Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.

“I want you,” he whispered.

You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”

He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.

Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.

A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.

Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.

You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”

His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.

“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.

You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.

“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”

Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”

Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.

“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.

He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.

You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.

“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.

Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”

The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”

“That’s right.”

Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.

Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.

And, well, you did.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.

“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”

With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.

With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.

The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.

Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.

“Turn around,” he said, and you did.

You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.

Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.

The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.

You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.

Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.

Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.

“Oh god,” you gasped.

The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.

It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.

You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.

Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.

“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.

His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.

“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.

He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.

“Harder!” you cried.

Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.

His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.

“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”

You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.

He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—

“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”

A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.

You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.

Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.

*********

“Don’t leave again.”

Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.

“Finnick…” you sighed.

“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”

The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.

Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.

You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.”

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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war-of-hormoan · 1 month ago

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a touch of silk (m)

You have been working with wolves long enough to recognize trouble the second it walks into the bar but there was something about Jungkook that made you forget everything Namjoon told you about the dangers of lone wolves.

pairing: werewolf!jungkook x f. human!reader genre: werewolf!au, smut, angst with a happy ending word count: 10,160 warnings: language, explicit content (oral and penetrati, non-graphic violence, and mild blood author's note: i posted this on an old tumblr back in 2019/2020 and it has been crossposted on my ao3 since then. i wanted to repost it as i have (after almost five years) have picked writing back up and have decided to continue to work in this universe. i have not edited this since it was originally uploaded. i can't guarantee it still holds up after all these years, but i wanted to post it anyway!

Your dressing room in the back of the club didn’t have any windows, but that didn’t stop the sound of the rain pelting onto the structure of the building from sounding like it was about to burst through the drywall. Night’s like this that made your job difficult as no one would want to leave the comfort of their own warm and dry homes to come to a smoke filled bar to hear you sing. But you were due on stage in 5 minutes and if your performance tonight was cancelled, Namjoon would have popped his head in to tell you to just go home.

So here you are, fixing the red lipstick that had smeared along the edge of your lips after taking a large sip of tea for your throat. You lean towards the illuminated mirror to make sure nothing else on your face was out of place, double checking the bobby pins you had carefully placed to see if they were still secure. It wasn’t like you were much of a dancer, you stood neatly in front of a grand piano for most of your shift, except for the moments when you walk through the crowd in hopes that one of the men who had a little too much to drink felt like leaving you a tip.

You reach down towards the drawers of your vanity, fingers hovering over the handles as you decide which drawer to open. You close your eyes, letting fate decide and open one of the two you had been debating between. It was the first drawer, filled with the flashiest of your stage jewelry. The pair of earrings were covered in crystals and gems that made it seem like a disco ball was hanging from your ears. Some of them were gifts from your fans, given to you in hopes they would somehow get them an “in” with you. As if your love and affection could be bought with something simple as jewelry.

You decide on a simple pair and secure them to your ears. The tips of your fingers brush against the skin of your neck, making you shudder as you remember the way his lips used to kiss the sensitive flesh. You take a deep breath, trying to push the memory to the back of your mind and focus on the reality in front of you.

You look at the time on the clock, it’s hands were pointing to just before showtime. So you disrobe, placing the fluffy pink material onto your vanity bench. Your hands smooth over the ice blue silk fabric in attempts to hide any of the creases that formed when you were sitting down.

There is a soft knock on the door just as there is every night at this moment.

“You can come in.” you call out after hearing a muffled “Y/N?” travel through the door.

Namjoon opens the door just enough to slip through the cracks without exposing anyone to your hideaway. He gives you the once over, running through his own mental checklist to make sure you were dressed for the occasion.

“Are you ready?” he questions, looking at your face through the mirror.

You gesture him to your back to take a look at the bow you had tied with the straps. “Is it even?”

Your friend sighs, recognizing your question was an attempt for him to forget what he was really asking you.

“You’re going to have to talk about it one day, Y/N.” he reminds you as he double knots your bow.

“About what?”

“Him.”

You turn around to face him, trying your best to keep your poker face in tact as it would do you no good if you came apart at the seams just before you were due on stage.

“Not now.” you warn him, squeezing past him to start your shift.

You were surprised at the amount of people in the bar this evening as you were sure the weather would turn the night into a dud but almost every single seat was filled. Yoongi was already sitting at the piano and arranging his sheet music neatly in order even though the set you were about to sing was almost always the same, and he had memorized it long ago.

Involuntarily, your eyes scan for him in the crowd and you are unsure if you want him to be among the faces or not. You know that the entire situation was for the best. And that his presence in your life had only brought trouble. The disappointment you’re feeling doesn’t last long however, as you see the president of the largest cannery in town sitting at a booth with a bunch of his friends that looked like they had taken a shower in cologne.

He would be your target tonight.

You flash a grin to the audience as you make your way onto the stage, making sure they all believed the act you were about to perform.

“Are you ready Yoongi?” you tease in your performance voice.

The pianist nods and starts to play the first song on your list.

By the second song you know you have the president wrapped around your finger. He was leaning forward onto the table, his fingers holding onto the glass of scotch he hadn’t taken a drink from in several songs. It was amusing how easy it was to get them eating out of the palm of your hand. All it took was a combination of eye contact and your hips to send them into a frenzy.

You enjoy watching the way men wrapped themselves around your fingers. Maybe this was the reason you were unable to give yourself fully to someone else, knowing how each of your exes felt about your career. They would be fine at first, completely understanding and accepting of the fact that you flirt with men for a living but then after a few months it would start to turn. They get “protective” but jealousy was all the same no matter what you tried to call it.

So you make a promise to yourself, that as long as you were performing on stage for a living, love would be the last thing on your mind. It was easier that way, at least so you thought.

You reach the point in the night where you engage with the crowd and you step down from the stage and make your way through the crowd, watching as they all hold their breath in hopes they’re the lucky one you chose tonight. He is waiting for you, straightening his posture as you make your way towards his booth, scooting towards the edge so he can get a better look at you. You go through through your calculated motions, making his cheeks deepen with a mixture of alcohol and unfulfilled lust.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a crisp bill in the largest sum they make. He slips it between two of his fingers, offering it to you with a smirk on his face like he’s got it in the bag.

“Thank you.” you tease, winking at him with a smile as you grab the money from his hands and slip it into the bust of your dress.

Yoongi rolls his eyes the second the two of you make eye contact as you head back towards the stage, his fingers never leaving the piano.

“I’ll share with you.” you mouth to him, making the pianist wrinkle his nose.

“I’m afraid I only have one song left tonight.” you apologize to the crowd in disbelief yourself that it had already gone by so fast.

The men in the audience protest, encouraging you to keep going.

But your attention isn’t on them as the door to the bar slammed open with a thud.

Jungkook stumbles in from outside. His clothes were soaking wet, sticking to his bones as he makes his way through the crowd. He doesn’t apologize as his limbs crash into other patrons of your work, leaving a trail of men yelling various curses and forms of protest in his path. He was almost to your dressing room when you notice that his shirt used to be white. The button was swirling in shades of crimson.

“Why is he always bleeding?” you think to yourself as you try to remain composed, keeping yourself together as you finish the last song of the night.

“Thank you everyone for coming out tonight!” you smile as Yoongi’s fingers grace the last of the notes on the piano.

The audience around you claps and whistles louder than you deserve and you bow slightly, careful not to expose yourself before heading towards the back of the stage.

“Did you see him?” Yoongi asks just loud enough so that you would be the only one who hears him.

“Yes.” you take his hand as he offers it, holding the skirt of your dress in the other and the two of you head down the stairs in sync.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Three months ago.” Almost to the day, not that you were counting.

Yoongi sighs, “Please take care of yourself, Y/N.”

But you wave him off, “I always do.”

You head towards the back of the bar, reaching behind the large oak counter top to grab a few bar towels as you had used the last of the ones in your dressing room to dry yourself off from the elements. Out of the corner of your eye notices the metal first aid kid tucked in between Namjoon’s personal items. You were unsure if the contents of the kit would even be able to help him as it looked like he had been bleeding a lot, but you grab it anyway. Just in case your self-taught skills could come to use.

“Where are you going, beautiful?” a low voice asks you as soon as you start to make your way towards the dressing room.

You turn around to no surprise and see the man who had tipped you earlier in the evening. He is staring at you with dark eyes and you know how he wants you to answer his question. But that wasn’t going to happen, especially when there was a bleeding werewolf in your dressing room.

“I’m off to freshen up.” you smile, drawing out your syllables slowly.

“Would you like company?” he asks right on schedule.

You shake your head. “No boys allowed.”

His eyes flash with lust. “I’m not a boy.”

“I can see that, but this lady needs her privacy for a few moments, alright? Why don’t you let Yoongi make you a strong drink and I will be out shortly, okay?” You put a compromise on the table even though you know you might not be able to hold up your end of the offer.

But it was enough to satisfy the man, and he takes a step back, but before reaching out for your hand to place a gentle kiss on your skin.

You rip your hand out of his and gently wipe your hand on the back of your dress before putting distance between the two of you.

“Come back soon.” he winks, making it almost impossible for you to not visibly gag in front of him.

Every step you took made your heart skip further and further into your throat, feeling as though you could almost choke with anticipation for what is waiting for you on the other side of the door. You stare at your hand reaching out for the door knob, wondering how one part of your body could be more courageous than the rest of it. You close your eyes, taking in a breath as far as your lungs could go and hold it until you start to feel a rush in your head and turn the handle.

Namjoon’s back is the first thing you see once you find the courage to open your eyes. His hands are at his hips, balled into fists as he hovers over Jungkook. His body was hunched over the back of your chair, arms hanging loosely as though the blood loss or alcohol had made him lose total control over his limbs.

“It’s almost a blood moon, Jungkook.” Namjoon growls deep within his chest the second you close the door, locking it just in case any of the patrons decide to give themselves a private tour of your dressing room,

“Do you know what kind of risk you’re putting everyone in this bar in? What kind of risk you’re putting Y/N in? Huh? Or are you so fucking selfish that you don’t care about who’s life you destroy?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, his gaze remains glued to the ground as if he was trying to summon demons to the hellmouth your town was sitting atop of.

“Don’t worry.” you hear Jungkook eventually mumble. “I’ll be gone soon.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you question him.

Jungkook looks at you through rain soaked hair. The dark black strands stick to his face, making the werewolf in front of you look even more disheveled than he does on a day to day basis. You must have been the last person to run a pair of scissors through his locks as they were hanging in his face, hiding the scar on his cheekbone. You hated how he looked at you, making you feel vulnerable and raw as one glance could tell him everything he needed to know about how you’re feeling at that very moment.

Namjoon steps aside, pinching the bridge of his nose between frustrated fingertips as he knows exactly how the scene in front of him is going to unfold. He takes a deep breath before looking at you with eyes full of pity.

“Y/N, please don’t forget what happened the last time he stormed in here.” he warns you of that night three months ago.

He had found you curled in a ball underneath your vanity, crying into your dressing gown. You were convinced that night was going to be the last time you ever saw Jeon Jungkook. Three months later, here he was, almost exactly where the two of you had left off.

“I won’t.” you reach out to squeeze your boss’ hand, letting him know that you had it under control and he could leave the two of you alone.

Namjoon hesitates, pressing his tongue into his cheek as he debates whether or not it’s a good idea for him to leave.

“I think that’s your cue to leave.” Jungkook snaps at the older wolf.

Namjoon scowls, looking at the lone wolf in disgust. “You are lucky I didn’t throw you to your former pack the first time you walked into my bar and you’re lucky I’m not going to do that now. If you lay even one finger on her, I’ll know and I’ll make sure that Jimin knows exactly where to find you. Got it?”

The threat makes Jungkook laugh, rolling his eyes at the threat. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“I’m sorry.” you whisper as Namjoon turns around to leave.

“I’ll be right outside.” he tells you, eyes flickering over to the panic button he had installed a year ago. “Jus-”

“Just press the button and you’ll be right in.” you nod your head. “I know the drill.”

One last sigh of disapproval leaves Namjoon’s chest before he leaves the two of you alone, closing the door tightly behind him.

Jungkook’s eyes follow your every move as you make your way towards the large cherry boudoir. You open the bottom drawer, pulling out the large first aid kit you and several pairs of surgical gloves.

“Lean back.” you not so much tell him but push his shoulders back into the chair and push his chin up towards the ceiling.

You try your best to keep the long shaggy hair out of his face, but the blood soaked strands have a mind of their own, forcing you to bring out reinforcements. You wander over to your vanity, opening the top left drawer and pull out a pink ribbon before resuming your place in front of the bleeding wolf.

Silence begins to settle like dust around the two of you as you get to work, pulling on the latex gloves to make sure everything you’re doing is as sanitary as it can be in this situation. You collect the hair on the crown of his head and tie it messily in the pink ribbon, making you laugh at how ridiculous he looked.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You should see the other guy.”

That joke was funny the first few times you heard it, but after hearing it hundreds of times, all you can do is sigh.

You ignore it, choosing to give all your attention to the task at hand and pull out the large brown bottle of antiseptic.

Jungkook’s lips press into a thin line as he watches you unscrew the cap and pour the clear liquid onto a cotton swab. He was usually a man of many words and countless brags about how he fucked someone up or how he managed to leave the scene of debauchery without getting caught.

Tonight was different. There was something in the air, bubbling under the surface as it waits for its chance to breach the surface.

He winces as you dab the wound on his eyebrow, cleaning up the excess blood so you assess the damage. It didn’t seem to be very deep, only needing a few stitches and he would be as good as he could get.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” he asks, trying to ease some of the tension that had been growing between you.

“Here. I’ve just had lots of practice over the years.”

“So I’m not the first?“

There is a hint of jealousy in his question, making you roll your eyes as you finish your handiwork, and take a seat on your vanity stool.

"Yoongi was the first.” you take off your gloves, throwing them in the trash before you search through your first aid for the last few items you need.

You can’t help but laugh as the memory of that night plays back in your mind. “It was two, maybe three years ago? I can’t remember, but it was a really slow night. There might have been one or two customers inside the bar all night long. I had given up on my set, so I was seated at the end playing a card game with Namjoon while we tried to pass the time. Maybe an hour before last call a group of very drunk and very obnoxious vampires came crashing into the bar.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “When are vampires ever not obnoxious?”

“Sit still, I’m not done yet.” You hold his head in place “Namjoon let them order one more round before he cut them off, which the youngest didn’t seem to like. The others apologized for his behavior, trying to excuse the fact that he was a brand new vampire on his inability to control his temper. But that just made him more agitated so he started to scream nonsense about how he was perfectly able to take care of himself and he threw his empty blood bottle and it smashed right into Yoongi’s face on the piano.”

You take a deep breath. “It was a complete disaster. The second that newborn smelled Yoongi’s wolf blood, he went ballistic. He tried to drain him and it took every single one of his friends to hold him back. Namjoon kicked all of them out before anything else could happen and banned them from entering. Luckily Yoongi was fine, and it wasn’t anything serious but for whatever reason he refused to go to the hospital and made me stitch him up in my dressing room even though I had no idea what I was doing. And now he has that giant awful scar on his left eyebrow. Haven’t you noticed it?”

Jungkook looks at you as your re-gloved hands rub antibacterial ointment on his stitches and place a band-aid over his wound. “No, you’re the only thing I’ve noticed since the first time I walked in.”

His words catch you off guard, making you slam the lid to your first aid kit shut as you attempt to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“That dress looks amazing on you, by the way. I’m glad I got to see you wear it, if it’s just this once.” he tells you, tracing your body with his pupils.

You look down at the light blue silk, feeling exposed underneath the smooth fabric that covers your body.

────────────────────

It was the first and only time you have ever seen Jungkook while the sun was still hanging in the sky. He showed up at your apartment in the middle of your morning coffee and toast. The loud thud of his fist against your front door made you grab the large baseball bat you kept near the umbrellas just in case. You were ready to swing as you watched the doorknob jiggle back and forth, making you freeze in place.

Whoever it was, had a lot of nerve to break into your apartment in the middle of the afternoon. You raise the bat as if you’re ready to swing the second they cross the threshold. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as your front door swings open.

“Y/N! What the hell!” Jungkook hisses as he grabs the bat in his palms before you could make a dent in his forehead.

Your eyes open wide. “Jungkook? What the hell! Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

“You’re hot when you’re about to get violent.” he teases, using his wolf strength to take the piece of wood out of your hands.

“What the hell are you doing?” you refuse to drop the subject despite his attempts of making you forget by taking you in his arms and kissing down your neck.

“I wanted to see you.” He purrs.

“And you couldn’t have called?”

“I didn’t think you would have answered.” he finds amusement in the goosebumps rising in your skin.

You push the wolf off of you, standing your ground. “I’m not in the mood after the stunt you just pulled.”

“I’m not here to fuck you.” he grins, clearly pleased with himself for getting you worked up.

“Then what are you here for?” you fold your arms across your chest.

“I want to take you somewhere.” he reaches out to take your hand, but you recoil.

“And where is that exactly?”

He leans forward, flashing that boyish grin you hate to love. “It’s a surprise.”

You roll your eyes. “Let me grab my purse.”

Jungkook waits for you by the door like a puppy who just heard the word “walk”. And it was moments like these that made it easy for you to forget what he really was. This was a side he seldom shared, letting it slip through the cracks in bits and pieces before he put his big bad wolf persona back on. A part of you wants to ask him to stay and to never let him out of your sight. That question wouldn’t be fair and you know that. Jungkook wasn’t meant to be tied down, especially not to a human like you.

The feeling that was growing in your heart is cursed but that doesn’t stop you from taking his hand and let him lead you out onto the busy streets.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” you ask him out of breath, barely able to keep up with his large footsteps.

He immediately slows down. “Sorry, we’re running late.”

“Do we have an appointment?” you question as he pulls you closer to his side. The gesture makes you nervous as you wait for his warm to wrap around his waist but the ringing of a bicycle bell brings you back to reality. Jungkook was only making sure you didn’t get run over.

“I’m not telling you.” he teases, nodding his head to the right. “It’s this way.”

He leads you down a busy side street, one you had never walked down on your own. Mostly because it’s length was full of stores that were way out of your bar singer price range. Jungkook stops in front of a large store almost at the end of the street. You stare up at the sign, realizing he had brought you to a dress shop.

“Jungkoo-” you begin to protest but he is already two steps ahead of you and holding the door open for you to follow him.

You feel immediately out of place as soon as you step onto the large marble floor of the store. Everywhere you turn are clothing racks full of dresses you had only seen in editorial spreads in magazines. It took all your strength not to reach out and touch every single one.

Jungkook’s eyes were following your amazement, watching you as you walked passed each rack. “Do you see anything you like?”

“You mean everything?” you laugh, your eyes focused on an emerald green velvet dress.

“You can try it on if you like.” he suggests, catching up to your strides.

“I-I couldn’t.”

“But you can.” he whispers.

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook, look how you’ve grown!” a loud voice calls out suddenly, making the two of you turn around immediately.

A small woman covered in needles, thread and tape measures approaches the two of you. Jungkook greats her warmly, leaning down so she can plant kisses on each of his cheeks.

“Oh! I got lipstick on you.” She starts to wipe off her lip prints but Jungkook waves her off.

“I like them.”

“Wolves like you keep me young.” She smacks him playfully on the chest before turning her attention to you. She looks up at you, pushing her large black glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Now who do we have here?”

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” you smile at her warmly.

She looks at Jungkook with an amused look on her face. “You didn’t tell me she was this pretty.”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red. This was the first time you had ever seen Jungkook blush and you were enjoying the fact the shoe was on the other foot for once.

“Come with me darling and we can get started.” she begins to pull you by the elbow towards a small podium nestled between a three sided mirror.

She urges you to step up as Jungkook takes a seat in one of the large plush pink chairs. Without another word she starts to take your measurements, reaching from your head to your toe, scribbling them down in a worn out notepad.

“Now what were you thinking as far as the design goes my dear?” she asks, blinking several times through her thick frames.

“I’m sorry?” you ask in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What about a thin strap and maybe a slit that goes up to here?” she places her finger on your mid-thigh. “Jungkook? What do you think?”

He looks up from his phone, “I’m sure any design you come up with will look great.”

The woman nods her head before handing you a large binder that seemed to weigh almost as much as she did. “Take a look through these swatches and I will be back in just a few minutes, alright my dear?”

You nod before taking a seat next to Jungkook who was furiously typing away on his phone.

“What is this for, Jungkook?” you ask firmly, making him slide his phone into his pocket.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” he stares at you.

“Thank you for what?”

“For taking care of me all this time.”

“Someone has to.” you whisper, looking up to stare at him.

Your eyes locked onto his. His pitch black irises were unreadable as you stared at him. Both of you were unsure where to take it from here. This was uncharted territory after all. The first time the two of you had been outside the confines of your work. You hadn’t even fucked in a bed, yet alone go out in public with each other.

“What do you think about these?” you ask, opening the book of swatches to a random page of fabric.

Jungkook’s chest falls as he exhales, directing his attention to the book in your hands. He points to a swatch of ice blue silk. “That one is pretty.”

“Have you decided, my dear?” the seamstress returns to the dressing room.

You nod, pointing to the swatch of silk. “I think I’ll go with this one.”

A large smile spreads across her face. “Delightful! That color will look amazing on you.” ────────────────────

“This is the first time I’ve worn it.” you admit, looking down at the silk dress, playing with the seam of the large slit in your fingertips.

“Then I have perfect timing.”

“That’s an understatement.” you mutter under your breath.

Jungkook takes a deep breath as if he was pulling your emotions from the air around the two of you. His chest rises as he inhales deeply, preparing himself to face the bitterness in your words.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he finally asks you, pulling out the ribbon from the top of his head.

There is silence as you watch him run his fingers through his hair. The dark strands have started to dry, making him look more like a wolf than a rain soaked puppy. The loose curls that were starting to form were new, but maybe they had always been there and you just never noticed they existed.

You were starting to realize how vast the depth of the unknown was when it came to Jungkook.

“Y/N?” he nudges your knee with his palm.

You stare at him, trying to read between the lines of his features for any sort of clue as to where you should go from here. Yet the longer you stare, the larger the fire in the pit of your stomach grows.

“Do you remember the first time you stumbled into this bar Jungkook?”

“Barely.”

“Well, it wasn’t much different than this. You were so drunk you could barely keep your head up. I remember watching you from the stage as you crashed into one of Namjoon’s pack members. I had never seen Hoseok as angry as he was when you knocked his bourbon out of his hand. I thought he was going to rip your head off before Namjoon could intervene. They were going to toss you in the dumpster in the alley and let the rats eat you, but I begged them to let me look at your injuries, to make sure that you weren’t going to bleed out. Hoseok tried to warn me then that you were bad news, that a lone wolf without a pack could only bring trouble. I think I’ve finally realized now what he meant by that.” you try to hold back the tears as the memories of every single stitch you sewed into Jungkook’s skin threatened to make this ten times harder than it needed to be.

“What are you trying to say?” Jungkook asks, pressing his palms together in the way he always does when he is annoyed.

“Once I finally got you stitched back together, I stepped out to get you some ice water. It was last call so Namjoon was busy behind the bar so I helped him out with a few drinks. I was gone for only a couple of minutes but by the time I got back to my dressing room you were already gone. You had managed to sneak out like a thief in the middle of the night.” you laugh. “I mean, I guess you technically are.”

“I’m not a thief, Y/N.” he corrects you.

“How am I supposed to know that, Jungkook?” you ask, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. “Ever since you stumbled into this bar the first night, everything has been on your terms. You show up when it’s convenient for you and disappear like smoke. If it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi, I’m not even sure I would believe that you’re real.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“But not for long, right? Isn’t that what you told Namjoon?”

You’ve backed him into a corner with your words. He looks at you like he is completely lost, unable to understand the ice in your voice.

“Y/N-” he reaches out towards your hands, making you back away from his reach.

“I don’t want to hear it Jungkook, whatever excuse it is this time.” you sigh. “I just don’t want to hear it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Jungkook’s hands tighten into fists, his knuckles go white as he squeezes the tension into his joints. “You know what I do, Y/N.”

“No, Jungkook. I don’t. I barely know anything about you. That’s the entire problem! Everything has been on your terms since the day we met. You come here it’s convenient for you and leave once you’ve had your feel. Have you ever stopped to think about how that makes me feel?”

His lips press into a thin line and you have your answer.

“You’re a selfish son of a bitch.” you shake your head, leaning forward to rest your elbows onto your vanity.

“Do you think I’m doing this because I want to hurt you, Y/N?” his voice comes out like a low whisper.

“If you’re saying you do this to protect me you can walk out right now.” you hiss, staring at him through the mirror.

“What do you want to know?” he asks you, folding his arms into his chest.

“It’s too late.”

Jungkook leans forward and grabs the back of your stool. You wish you had locked the wheels as he pulls you towards him, but you know that wouldn’t be enough to stop him from using his wolf strength.

He spins you around to face him, “Something tells me that’s not true.”

You scoff, crossing your arms before you turn your head to stare at the rack of dresses, wishing you had worn anything other than this.

“I’m not like Yoongi or Namjoon. I wasn’t born a wolf. I didn’t grow up in a pack. I was a human up until three years ago.” he takes a deep breath, his voice shaking as if this was the first time he has ever told anyone else this story.

“What happened?” you ask, turning your attention back to him.

“When I told my dad that I didn’t want anything to do with the spot in his company he had been saving for me since I was born, he kicked me out. I was sleeping on couches, working shitty jobs in the back of restaurants or anywhere that would take me. Eventually I started to work for Heejun down at the shipyard. At first I was only loading and unloading the containers from the ships. I didn’t know what was inside of them, they were all under lock and key. And heavily guarded.”

He takes a deep breath. “I was there really late one night as a ship from Japan had arrived late due to a typhoon. There was something off, a thickness in the air that made Heejun anxious. He didn’t stop pacing until the ship was fully docked and even then he kept checking over his shoulder as if he was worried someone was going to attack him. Eventually they did. We were ambushed as soon as the first container was loaded into the warehouse. The only thing I remember is one second I was talking to Heejun and the next I was flat on my back, bleeding out.”

“When I woke up, everything was different. My vision was sharp. My sense of smell was so strong I could smell the rotting garbage coming from the dumpsters on the street despite the fact that I was six stories up in an apartment. And that’s when I realized that I wasn’t dead, but something had happened to me.” he starts to stutter through the last words.

“Heejun turned you.” finish for him.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, Heejun and the rest of my coworkers were slaughtered that night. I was turned by the pack who attacked us. I guess there was something about me he liked, so instead of dumping my body into the harbor he decided to turn me at the last second.”

Jungkook lifts the sleeve of his shirt to expose the bite mark you had seen hundreds of times. He watches your hand move slowly from your lap towards the scarred tissue and closes his eyes the moment your fingertips make contact. You trace the jagged outline, barely able to wrap your head around what it must have felt like for him to go through that, alone.

“It’s funny how I was running away from a life I had no control over, but it still ended up that way anyway. I don’t know how much Namjoon has told you about wolves and their packs but you’re under the alpha’s control. You have to listen to every order. Your body obeys every command. If you’re not a top dog, you’re fucked. I was forced to join his company. To earn my living through his business. The containers weren’t full with what the documents said they were. They were full of drugs, weapons, whatever Siwon and his pack could get their hands on in order to make money on the black market.”

“Is that why Namjoon doesn’t like you?”

Jungkook smirks, “I don’t think that’s the only reason. Haven’t you ever seen how he looks at you?”

“We did fuck once, one night after a really busy night and the two of us had way too much to drink. But we both agreed that it was for the best that it never happened again.” You shake your head. “But don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m not, just pointing out the obvious.”

“Continue.” you encourage him courtly.

“The beef between Siwon and Nmajoon goes way back, before I was ever turned into a wolf. It’s rare for a city of this size to contain two wolf packs. They were one pack at one point, but Siwon wasn’t happy with how Namjoon ran things. He didn’t understand why wolves were forced to work for the enjoyment of men. Eventually they got in a huge fight and Siwon was able to separate himself from the pack although no one came with him. So he started to turn people like me into wolves. And eventually the company and his pack grew into what it was.”

"If they hate each other then why have I never seen Siwon around? He’s never shown up at the bar.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Siwon knew that if he causes trouble he can lose everything. That Namjoon has the connections to take him and his entire operation down. So he kept the peace. The two packs acted like they had no idea the other existed. ”

“So why did you leave?” How did you leave? Namjoon told me it’s almost impossible for a wolf to leave his pack.“

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip. "I killed almost all of them.”

You know enough about pack dynamics to understand the weight of Jungkook’s actions. “ How?”

“We were at the docks, like always, doing Siwon’s bitch work as we waited for a shipment of cocaine. It was one of the largest orders we were receiving so Siwon had almost every single one of us there that night. My pack had a long history of violence, killing anyone they thought was a threat to their operation. That night a woman was out late with her child. The boy must have been no older than two. You could see in her eyes that she was exhausted and that he must not have been able to fall asleep so she brought him out for a late night walk, hoping that would be enough to get him to go to sleep.”

You interrupt him. “I don’t want to know the rest.”

Jungkook nods. “That was when I realized how far I had fallen. I had realized that this wasn’t how I wanted to live my life. I knew that the only way I was going to be able to escape was to kill them. So I did.”

“You did what?”

Jungkook looks at you with a devilish grin. “I killed his entire pack.”

“Is that why you always leave?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. “I always come back, don’t I?”

You avoid answering his question. "How did you end up in Namjoon’s bar that night?”

Jungkook nods. “I knew this was one of the only places that his mean wouldn’t cross. A lone wolf wasn’t as much of a threat as a whole pack. But I also know that Siwon would eventually seek out his revenge. That he would come looking for me if he knew I was still in town. So I left. I come back when I know he is out of town and leave once he returns.”

“If your paths never cross then how did you end up with his?” You point at the gash on his eyebrow. “Who was it?”

“There was only one thing left for me to do to gain total freedom.”

You look him in the eyes, staring into his dark irises as you finish the rest of his story. “You killed Siwon.”

“I did what I had to do to protect myself. And to protect the things I love.”

You stare at him, trying to keep the beating of your chest silent as you hope you aren’t reading too much into his words.

Jungkook leans forward, a red flashes across his irises, illuminating the black pupils for only a second before the color disappears. You know that he is on the verge of his senses. That soon the two of you will cross a line into territory you had told yourself over and over again that you would not step back into. His breath tickles your neck as he hovers above your sensitive flesh. You take a deep breath, trying to control your body’s urges every time the wolf is this close to you.

"Are you scared of me, Y/N?” he asks, chuckling in amusement as he hears your heartbeat start to race.

“You’re not the baddest wolf I’ve ever met.” you counter, watching in anticipation for his reaction.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, hesitating for a second before diverting his attention to your lips. Jungkook’s chapped lips press into yours with a several month long hunger. Each of you starved for the other’s affections as you re-learn how each other moves. Although it doesn’t take long for the first moan to slip from your lips as he uses his sharp canines to nibble onto your bottom lip.

The touch of his skin has always been warm, but in the dead of winter you know you don’t stand a chance. His fingertips trace a pleasurable burn down your body as he runs one hand down your back and uses the other to tangle his fingertips into your hair. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist tightly as if he is scared you’ll disappear if he lets go. As if you could do anything else but kiss him back.

“Come here.” he breathes, giving you a chance to breathe as he lifts you out of your chair, keeping a firm grip around your waist as he clears the bottles of skincare and tubes of lipstick off the top of your vanity. It all falls to the floor with a thud, leaving him with enough space to prop you up against the mirror, letting your head fall gently against the glass before he returns to kissing every inch of skin he can reach with his lips.

“You look fucking amazing in that dress.” he growls in his lower register. His hands traveling across the light blue silk as he tries to control the wolf inside of him. He has already ruined too many of your prettiest dresses and he knows you might actually try to kill him if he destroys this one too.

“Well, you are the one who bought it for me.” You remind him, taking in as much oxygen as you can as he moves from your lips to your neck. His kisses trailing the plunging neckline.

Jungkook’s hands make their way down to your thighs and your whole body shudders. He swiftly spreads your thighs far enough apart to allow his body in between your legs.

“Fuck.” you moan at how assertiveness turns you on as he is the only man who can make you compliant. Your body listening to every word he says, reacting to every single touch, he had you under a spell as if you were a wolf and he was the full moon.

“Can I touch you?” his hands hover over the top of the slit, waiting for permission.

“Please.” you breathe, spreading your legs even further apart to make things easier for him to access.

He doesn’t waste a second more before his fingertips find their way to the lacy fabric of your underwear. Jungkook looks down at the light colored fabric, smiling as he traces the floral pattern.

“If you destroy them, I’ll kill you.” You warn, mourning the countless pairs of underwear the wolf had ripped to shreds over the years.

“It looks like you already have.” he teases, as his finger swipes along the damp patch growing at your core.

He teases his calloused fingertips up and down your clothes slit, making you whimper in anticipation for what he is about to do you, as he has done countless times before. But there is something different about tonight. A sense of urgency filling the room as he hastily grabs onto your underwear, pulling them down and off your ankles before discarding them somewhere into the depths of your dressing room.

The dulling ache of your position against the vanity mirror is nothing in comparison to the heat starting to spread across your body. Jungkook’s fingertip has made its way to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with quick flicks that make your bite, nibble and moan in the werewolf’s mouth. He starts to pull away, but you quickly grip the back of his head with your hand, keeping his mouth close as he wanders down your throat, licking along your pulse.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you feel his canines graze your skin carefully. Jungkook was reckless, but he was smart enough to know better than to bite you, knowing the implications of leaving his mark on your skin. He takes your moment of vulnerability to sink a finger into your center, groaning as he slips the digit in your wet heat. He starts to move his finger back and forth, mimicking the motions of what he wanted to do to you later.

“I don’t have much time.” you warn him, reading his mind as he slips in another finger into you. You would love nothing more than to lay him on his back and fuck until the two of you were a panting mess on the floor, but the night was still young. And as much as you loved fucking the wolf in front of you, you had bills to pay.

Jungkook leans back to look at you, removing his fingers to take a glimpse at the mess he was making out of you. He asks. “Is that a challenge?”

You roll your eyes at the wolf coming out the man. “Are you going to pay my rent?”

“I can, if you let me.” he scoffs.

You reach out towards his shirt, pulling him as closely as you can. “Touch me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Jungkook pushes your legs a part, staring into your eyes as he inserts two of his fingers back into you. He revels in the way you close your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mirror as he fucks you with his digits. He knows your body like a map, knowing where and when to apply pressure that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. You used to be ashamed at how easily he unraveled you with just a fingertip, blushing at how easily he made you come undone. But it had been months and you had missed this (although you would never admit it out loud).

“Fuck!” slips out of your lips as he uses his thumb to apply pressure to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud as he continues to fuck you into bliss with his hand.

“Come on, baby.” He encourages, recognizing the change in your breathing pattern. He quickens his speed, allowing his muscles to take over as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m gonna cum!” You breathe, rolling your hips to take his fingers in as far as they can and it all becomes too much. You turn into a gasping mess as you grips onto the wolf’s shoulders, bracing yourself as waves of pleasure take over your body. Jungkook’s fingers refusing to stop until the last one finally settles in your toes.

“Come with me.” Jungkook whispers as he rests his forehead against yours.

You laugh. “I’m pretty sure I just did.”

The werewolf shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean, Jungkook?” You ask him for clarification.

“Tonight. Come with me tonight. Leave with me.” There is a desperation in his voice that shocks you, making you realize that even throughout all the times you have stitched up the man in front of you, you had never seen him this vulnerable.

You reach up towards the mess of dark waves on his head and run your fingers through the strands, gently pulling out the knots that somehow always seem to form. The growing silence between the two of you is your answer, but you know you need to say it out loud. “Jungkook, I can’t.”

His eyes flutter open, staring into your soul with their dark irises. “Why not?”

“I have a job!” You cannot hide the frustration in your voice. “I have an apartment. My friends are here. I can’t just leave them Jungkook.”

“I will pay to have someone pack up your things, to ship them to wherever we end up. Or I can just fucking buy you new things.” He starts to plead.

“Jungkoo-”

“Please, Y/N. Please let me protect you. Let me take care of you.”

You wrestle your wrist out of Jungkook’s grip, neither one of you realizing he had a hold on you. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, choosing to focus on the rack of dresses in the corner instead. You blink several times, refusing to let the wolf see you cry over him.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” He asks in defeat, sinking back down into the chair you had stitched him up in.

The truth is, you want you. You want more than anything to believe that he would take care of you. That he would be able to keep you safe from the constant supernatural threats that have entered your life since the moment you stepped foot into this shitty seaside town. Except the responsible part of your brain was screaming at you to remember Namjoon, Yoongi, and the rest of the wolves you had in your life that kept you out of harm’s way the second Jungkook disappeared again. You had a life here, and while it may not be much on paper, you loved it.

“I don’t know what to say.” You admit out loud.

Jungkook immediately stands up. “You don’t have to say anything. I-I-I just thoug-.”

“I’m surprised you thought I would go with you, Jungkook. How am I supposed to believe anything you ever say to me? How much time have we actually spent together outside of this room? How many times have you told me you would come back only to disappear again. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? How worried I get about you? I am terrified that one day you’re going to end up dead and I am only going to find out about it months later. So how can you expect me to just drop my entire life and run away with you?”

He turns away, giving you the cold shoulder as he can’t bring himself to answer your question. His shoulders shudder slightly and for a second you think the wolf in front of you is crying. But Jungkook quickly turns around without a tear in sight. The warmth in his eyes were gone, leaving nothing but blank empty spaces in his irises.

He was shutting down.

“I guess that’s it then.” He tells you coldly, straightening his back to remind you how much taller he is.

“Jungkoo-”

He interrupts you. “I don’t want to hear it. I think you have made your feelings clear. I apologize for everything I put you through, but after tonight I won’t bother you ever again.”

You clamp your mouth shut as you watch him dig through the pockets of his pants. He hands over a small purple velvet pouch. “Take it.”

The taste of blood fills your mouth as you bite the inside of your cheek as you try to distract yourself from the pain filling in your chest as you take it from his hands. You open it, revealing a silver chain and pendant. A heart shaped locket hung at the end of the chain, but it was too wide to be an ordinary locket.

“You don’t have to open it.” He tells you just as your fingertips reached for the hinge. “It’s full of herbs that will keep you safe. Vampires, demons, witches. Even wolves.”

You can feel the tears start to break from your bottom lash line. “Thank you.”

Jungkook shrugs. “It’s the least I can do, after everything I have put you through. Please, take care of yourself, Y/N.”

The sound of his footsteps are the final straw and you feel your heart break into a thousand pieces as he closes the door behind you, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces once again.

You don’t know how much time has passed or how many tears you have cried before you can finally feel the pain in your chest turn into a dull ache. You sniffle, reaching towards the tissues to wipe the mascara tears away from your cheeks. If you go back out into the bar Namjoon and everyone else will know you’ve been crying. That tonight is just like every other night when Jungkook was involved.

With a deep breath you try to pull yourself together. You powder your face and touch up your lipstick before running your fingers back through your hair and putting each strand back into place. You don’t bother trying to find the underwear you had been wearing, choosing instead to pick a fresh pair from the stock you kept in your vanity. It was after the third time you and Jungkook had slept together that you realized you needed to keep extra clothing in stock as he couldn’t always keep the wolf inside of him in check.

You turn around, taking your time as you look around the dressing room. There was nothing that he hadn’t touched. That didn’t have a memory attached to the man that had just walked out of your life for the last time.

What really was keeping you here? The seaside town was never meant to become your home. It was supposed to be temporary. A place where you could find your footing after leaving college. You were only supposed to stay for a few months, but then it became a few years. Sure, you loved your job. Namjoon, Yoongi, and the rest of the boys took care of you. They made sure you had what you needed but there wasn’t room for growth. It’s not like you could get promoted. This is all there was. And you knew that.

Maybe it was time for you to leave, for you to figure out what the hell was out there in the rest of the world.

“God damn it, Jungkook.” You mutter under your breath.

You lift the light blue silk off your frame and quickly change into your every day clothes. Your fingers fumble with the buttons of your jeans as you try to get them on. The sweater gets stuck on your head, making you question if this was the universe telling you to stay in place.

You take a look around your dressing room, trying to figure out if there was anything else you couldn’t leave without. You yank a few dressed off the hangers, shoving them and the light blue dress into your bag that becomes full to the brim.

“That’s it.” You say goodbye to the room, smiling at all the memories you’ll hold dear in your heart.

As soon as you open the door and step out into the bar, now full to the brim with customers, you make eye contact with Namjoon. The glass he was washing in his hand comes to stand still as the two of you stare at each other from across the room. He shakes his head knowingly, telling you in his own way that he knows exactly what you’re doing and just wants you to be safe.

“If he hurts a single hair on your body, I’ll gut him alive.” Yoongi whispers as he walks past towards his piano.

“You and me both.” You smile before weaving your way through the crowd and out the door.

The rain had stopped, leaving behind puddles and pavement that that reflected the dim street lights. The smell of smoke drifts through the night breeze from the docks and Jungkook’s handiwork. You hope that there wasn’t too much damage to the piers surrounding Siwon’s. Those people didn’t deserve to have their source of income damaged. They were innocent.

You look around, trying to figure out what direction the wolf could have gone. It certainly wasn’t towards the dock, so you turn around and walk in the opposite direction. You steps quicken as you cross every deserted street. There was no one around, not a single wolf in sight. You reach the end stretch of town and have to make a decision. You can turn left and go home or you can turn right and see what lies ahead of you on the outskirts.

The overwhelming fear of being too late rises in your chest and you hope that this wasn’t the case. You back a decision and turn towards the right and immediately slam into what feels like a brick wall.

“Why are you walking home late at night, by yourself? Have I not told you a hundred times to be smart?” Jungkook growls.

“I was looking for you, you asshole!” you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Why? So you can tell me how fucking terrible I am?” Bitterness lace his words.

You smack him as hard as you can in the chest, but his body barely moves. “Jeon Jungkook, if you ever leave me like that again, I am going to gut you myself!”

“Okay, Yoongi.” The wolf rolls his eyes before finally processing the words you had just said. He takes a step closer to you, hesitantly reaching out to hold your waist. “What did you just say?”

You stare at him, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. “I said that if you ever leave me like that again, I am going to gut you myself.”

He presses his forehead against yours. “I promise, I won’t.”

You take a deep breath. “I want to believe you, Jungkook. I really do.”

“I’ll prove it to you.” He pulls you in closer, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice.

“Please don’t make me regret this, Jungkook. Please don’t make me regret falling in love with you.” You stare back at him.

“I won’t. I love you too much to ever let you out of my sight.” he places a gentle kiss on your lips before whispering. “Now where do you want to go?”

You take a second to think as a gust of cold air sends a shiver through your spine and gives you your answer. “Somewhere warm.”

Jungkook smiles. “I think I know the perfect place.”

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