#mature bts

[97kuu]

ONLY ON CAMERA

Part 2 here

summary; Jungkook and you keep your sexual relationship a secret—until his friends from the 97 line start betting on who can win you over first. Feeling jealous, he pulls you into a private room at the next awards show, claiming you as his. As he sends a video to the group chat, he makes it clear that you belong to him.

Au; fwb! Secrete rleationship au! ! Jungkookidolau! Readerpopularidolau!

wc 2k

warnings; slight plot, fwb, creamp^e, Riding, dirtyt^lk, descriptive s^x, mi^^ionary, lotus, recording, dub-con, time skips, a bet is placed, public S^x, rushed s^x, facial, q^ickie, clothed s^x, mentions of sweat. Slight manipulation on Jks part,

Edited

In the lotus position on the bed, Jungkook leans forward, drawing you even closer as he wraps his arms securely around your waist. Your chest is at the perfect level, allowing him to lower his head slightly and take a nipple into his mouth. His lips move with a mix of tenderness and intensity, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours, watching as you ride his cock in utter pleasure.

Your hands find their place on his shoulders, head falling slowly back as he grips your waist and you moan in ecstasy. Jungkook had what was no doubt the best cock you've had being in this industry and therefore had no difficulty changing plans and meeting at night at his or a random rental car for the hour. He was girthy, he had a good length that wasn't small nor too long. He curved slightly so that when you moved onto your knees and pushed him slightly back to lay down, you could ride him and he would automatically tease your G-spot with ease.

Crossing his arms behind his head, he watched as placed your hands on his chest. Applying pressure as you rocked your hips back and forth creating short waves of movement against him.Biting softly on his pierced bottom lip, Jungkook’s dark eyes locked with yours, a hint of mischief in his gaze. Slowly, he lowered his hands from behind his head, bringing them to rest on your hips. His fingers gripped you firmly yet tenderly, guiding your movements with practiced ease. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine as he leaned in slightly, his breath mixing with yours.

“You have no idea how amazing you look right now,” he breathes out, voice laced with desire. Listening to those words and that deep groan of his as your hips crashed down, followed by the arch of your back was utterly heaven to him.

“I could watch you like this forever,” he groans, barely holding back. His words sent a rush through you, making your body respond instinctively as you quickened your pace, completely overtaken by his voice. “That’s it, keep going—you’re taking me so well,” he encouraged his tone deep and approving, fueling your movements even more.

His grip tightness, he holds helps grind down on him harder as his precum spews inside of you without knowing. He sat up abruptly, tilting his head back in pleasure as you wrapped your arms tightly around his back. The light sensation of your touch sent him over the edge, and he released himself with deep, resonant groans, eyes squeezed shut as the feeling consumed him.

“Mmm, make yourself come on me, baby. I want to feel you using it as lube,” he instructed, panting as he moved to wrap his arms around your back, guiding your movements on his still-hardened length.

One thing you always noticed was that despite his high-trained stamina allowing him to go for endless rounds when he was on top, the moment you took control, it was as if his body couldn’t handle the intensity of the pleasure. It made him release quickly yet remain at his peak, ready for more. When you asked him why, he’d simply say, “That’s how attracted I am to you. You make me want to go for round after round.”

He lusted deeply after you, both when you were with him and when he could release the pent-up sexual frustration you sparked. It was the result of teasing voice messages where you’d moan his name and beg him to make you feel good. Even when alone, he found himself watching fan-made videos of your chest moving or replaying secret moments from nights spent in public places where you tried to stay silent as he thrust into you.

You were the idol that many men craved, even some of his friends, which made him both possessive and proud. The mutual desire between you quickly escalated from casual encounters to a full-fledged friends-with-benefits situation. It was a fitting label, though it never extended beyond the walls of the rooms or buildings where you met. The secrecy only heightened the thrill, making every moment that much more intoxicating.

Riding him in his apartment felt even more thrilling knowing that there were people who could potentially see or hear the sounds of his moans and the way your body surrendered to the pleasure he gave you.

The thought of being risky, even in the most mundane places, made you drip down his length, coating him as your core burned with the need for release. Your brows knitted together, eyes glazing over with pleasure as you bounced harder, driven by the rhythm of your racing heartbeat.

You couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep your gaze on him, and he loved that—wanted it, craved to see you unravel under his dark, intense stare. It was the same lowered gaze he had when he was serious or angry, and it always drove you to the edge, pushing you into a blissful orgasm. Your body moved on its own, continuing until it was completely satisfied with him buried deep inside, lost in a zone of euphoria.

As the rhythmic convulsions of your core squeezed and released around him, Jungkook groaned and hissed from the mix of pleasure and a touch of pain as you tightened around him. Watching you come undone on top of him, hips moving in slow, languid circles, drove him wild. His hands found your nipples, rubbing them in circles, knowing it would send waves of pleasure shooting down your body as he watched you consumed in ecstasy.

“Keep it up, baby. Your body feels too good, and I’m gonna use you how I want, making you cum until you can’t take it anymore,” he grunted, gripping your back and shifting you beneath him as he moved into missionary.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he let out a growl of frustration and desire before you spread your legs wider for him, fully exposed and ready. He thrusts into you with an urgent need, pounding into you while you are still in the throes of that blissed-out, high state. The feeling was overwhelming, intense, like a rush that made the world spin, but it wasn’t anything other than him—just Jungkook, taking you deeper into that intoxicating pleasure.

As he thrusts, his voice low and steady says “That’s it, just like that… you’re so good for me.”The thrusts were deep but slow, each movement deliberate and controlled. He pushed inside with a steady force, every inch filling you, but it was the rhythm that drove the sensation. He’d pull back, almost completely, only to slide back in, slow and full, making sure each thrust hit the deepest part of you. The pace was measured, heavy, and purposeful, allowing the intense sensation to build gradually. His body moved with almost agonizing slowness, savoring each moment before he filled your cunt with warm oozing cum.

Pulling out, he placed a kiss on your chest and reached for the rag he placed prior to the bed to clean you up a bit, before helping escort you to take a shower with him. After all, you both were still close and were still a gentleman at heart.

A week later, jungkook was Jungkook sat at the bar, his hand wrapped around a cold bottle of Kloud, the rich, dark beer perfectly complementing the night’s relaxed yet lively atmosphere. He and some of his friends decided to get drinks in the middle of the night a few days before award season would begin in less than a few days.

Slightly stressed, but enjoying the night with a few people at a table he admitted the amber hue of the liquid glistening under the soft overhead lights as he tipped the bottle back, taking a long, deliberate sip. The slightly bitter, malty flavor settled on his tongue as he leaned casually against the counter, his eyes flicking between the conversations of his friends beside him.

The faint hum of music and low chatter filled the space, but he remained calm and composed, occasionally smirking at a joke or nodding in agreement. The way he held the beer, with confidence and ease, mirrored his grounded energy, even as the night buzzed around them.

“maybe somewhere towards the back” a familar voice, came closer.

Jungkook was mid-conversation, his voice steady and composed, when he suddenly heard it—the distinct tone of your voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bar. It was unmistakable, a sound that made his chest tighten and his face heat up. His reaction was immediate, a subtle flush creeping up his neck, but thankfully, the lively chatter around him gave him the perfect excuse to play it off.

He tilted his head slightly, pretending to adjust his seat, but his ears stayed tuned to you. And then it happened—your eyes locked with his. In that split second, it was like the world around him dulled, the electricity of your gaze grounding him and making his pulse race. His breath hitched, and he quickly glanced away, masking the flush creeping up his neck with a casual smirk and a deliberate sip of his beer. His grip on the bottle, however, betrayed him, tightening as if anchoring himself.

Leaning back in his chair, he took another measured sip, forcing his expression to remain neutral. His heart thudded against his ribs, but he played it off effortlessly, as though he hadn’t just felt the room tilt. To anyone watching, he seemed completely composed, but inside, the tension lingered—your presence pulling at him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. After all nobody, not even the clolsesf of people here knew you hooked up once in a while or frequintly and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to keep it a secrete.

Playing it off he Tilted his drink slightly in your direction, Jungkook made a subtle point point with the bottom of his beer mug toward your table. “There,” he said under his breath, low enough that only his closest friend could catch it. It was an understated motion, almost unnoticeable, but the seriousness in his tone had his friends following his lead, their glances fleeting compared to the way his lingered. Still, Jungkook turned back quickly, focusing on his beer as if the moment hadn’t unraveled him entirely.

“Isn’t that good timing, don’t you think? Maybe she sensed good-looking guys were here and dragged a few friends along,” one of the 97-liners said, his eyes lazily trailing over your figure. “She’s got that type of body that makes you stop and stare—dangerous curves.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook replied, his tone cool but clipped as he sipped his beer. He didn’t even look their way, trying to keep his reaction locked down. “Then again, didn’t we only come here because someone said it was safer than most places?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t notice those legs when she walked in?” another chimed in, leaning forward with a wolfish grin. His eyes lingered shamelessly on your body, tracing every curve as if undressing you with his gaze. “She’s putting on a show with those hips, man. I swear, the way that dress clings to her? It’s like she wants us to imagine what’s underneath. Bet it’s a fucking masterpiece.”

He leaned back, biting his lip as his gaze dipped lower, voice thick with hunger. “Everything about her screams trouble—the good kind. Those thighs, that ass… fuck, I’d let her ruin me and thank her for it.”

Jungkook’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles whitening as he kept his face carefully neutral. “You could try,” he said smoothly, setting his drink down with a subtle but audible thud, “but do you even know how many confessions she’s probably gotten? Are we even talking about the same girl here?”

“Well then,” the first guy interjected with a sly smile, “how about we make it a challenge? Bet and put respect on the man’s name who can get her in bed first. Before the end of the next award show. I’ll put 3 mil on it.” His smirk widened as he added, “She looks like the type to put up a fight, but I wouldn’t mind breaking her in.”

The crude remark made Jungkook’s jaw clench. He leaned back in his chair, masking his rising anger. “20 mil,” he said flatly, his voice a low challenge that silenced the table. His eyes flicked to the speaker, daring him to take it further.

“Oh, 20 mil?” one of them scoffed, leaning back with an amused look. “You sure you’re not overestimating yourself here, man? She doesn’t seem like the type to just give it up so easily.”

He glanced over at you again, eyes lingering on the way your dress barely clung to your body, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “But I get it… she’s got that innocent look, like she’s just waiting to be taken. You know, the kind of girl who might act all shy at first, but when she’s alone with you? She’s a fucking firestorm.”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping lower. “She’s probably the type who’ll beg for it—wanting you to take control, needing it like air. She wouldn’t last long, though. I bet once you’ve got her where you want her, she’ll ride you till she can’t move, totally at your mercy, just how you like it.”

He chuckled, watching Jungkook carefully. “But hey, I could be wrong… maybe you can’t pull that off. In which case, I’ll be happy to take my winnings and her home myself.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smirk, but inside, his blood was boiling. The idea of them imagining your body, let alone thinking they had a chance with you, made his possessiveness surge. They didn’t know the things he did—how your body reacted to his touch, the sounds you made when he pushed you past your limits, the way you looked at him when you fell apart.

But he didn’t speak, just took another long sip of his drink, letting their words wash over him as he planned his exit. Their laughter rang in his ears, but his thoughts were consumed by one simple truth: They can talk all they want, but she’s already mine.

M.list. This was a requested plot

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 𝟎𝟏

˗ˏˋ fresh start, same weight ˎˊ˗

"Not everything that breaks you has to be traumatic. Sometimes it's as simple as a guy with a crooked smile who ruins you so quietly, you don't even notice until it's too late."

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⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 2.8k

rating: mature

content: moving day, roommate introductions, & that lingering feeling something's about to go wrong

✧ author's note ✧

fun fact: initially split between fandoms, but hey - good writing is good writing, right? so here we are, back with this story that wouldn't leave me alone.

this started as my "simple" project while working on something more complex… but we all know how that usually goes. (;'༎ຶٹ༎ຶ')

aiming for around 3k per chapter because honestly? quality over quantity. and yeah, maybe it'll end up more complicated than planned (because apparently i can't write anything without psychological depth) but that's half the fun, isn't it?

ps: prepare for emotions. all of them. you've been warned.

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

Moving sucks.

The boxes are heavier than you'd like to admit, the weight of them making your arms burn, but you keep going. Because that's what you do. You push through, even when you're dead tired or half pissed off at yourself for not hiring movers.

The gritty heat of New York City in August sticks to your skin as you lug the last of your stuff up the stairs to your new apartment. Cheap rent means no elevator. Cheap rent means you're sweating through your shirt before you even knock on the door.

When it swings open, you're met with the sight of your new roommate. Or one of them, at least.

He's standing there, lean, loose-limbed, wearing a dark hoodie despite the oppressive summer heat. His bleached hair looks almost white in the dim light of the hallway. The first thing you notice is how still he is. Like, eerily still. He blinks at you, slow and deliberate, like you've interrupted something—though it's clear he doesn't care enough to be irritated by it.

"Y/N?" he asks, voice as lazy as his posture. You nod, and he steps back, wordlessly letting you inside.

"Yoongi," he says, half a nod in your direction as he glances down at your box. You can't tell if he's sizing it up or just wondering what the hell you're doing carrying it on your own.

"You need help with that?" His voice doesn't sound particularly invested, but you catch a flicker of something in his eyes. Politeness? Obligation? You can't tell.

"I got it," you say, even though your arms are screaming for a break.

Of course, it would be nice to hand off some of the work, but you've always hated asking for help. And especially not from some guy you don't know, who already looks like he'd rather be doing anything else.

"Alright," he replies with a shrug, and that's it.

He moves away, padding back inside, his socks soft against the hardwood. You blink, standing there for a second longer than necessary, then shake it off. You're here now, in this cramped, dingy apartment, where the walls are scuffed and the kitchen light flickers every other second. Home sweet home.

Yoongi disappears down the short hallway to the left, leaving you alone in the cluttered living room. You notice the secondhand couch, positioned in the middle of the room but pressed against a long, narrow kitchen table—the kind meant for stools rather than chairs. It serves as a makeshift divider between the living area and the open kitchen. The coffee table, cluttered with empty takeout containers and a couple of forgotten textbooks, sits in front of the couch. The faint smell of something you can't quite place—cigarettes, maybe?—lingers in the air.

You exhale, setting the box down with a thud. The place has character, you tell yourself. That's what people say when things are a little run-down, right? Character.

A few minutes later, Yoongi reappears. He's changed into an oversized t-shirt, the hoodie abandoned somewhere.

"I can get the rest of your boxes," he says, like it's an afterthought. He doesn't look at you when he says it, just past you, like helping was always the plan and you're the one who's being weird about it.

"You sure?" you ask, more out of reflex than actual concern. Your arms aren't exactly in the mood to carry another load.

Yoongi nods, already moving toward the door without waiting for a response.

You follow him back down to the street, watching as he picks up two of your boxes like it's nothing. You wonder, briefly, how many times he's had to help new people move in, how many strangers he's let into this apartment. Maybe he's used to it by now. Maybe that's why he's so... indifferent.

As you walk back upstairs, you steal a glance at him. There's something unsettling about how calm he is, how little he seems to care about this whole process. But at the same time, you kind of appreciate it. No small talk, no unnecessary questions about your major or why you're moving here. Just... silence.

When you get back inside, he drops the boxes next to the others and turns to you.

"There's beer in the fridge if you want."

His voice is still that same low monotone, like everything he says is just a suggestion.

You raise an eyebrow. "At noon?"

Yoongi shrugs. "Helps with unpacking."

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. Great, you think. Your first roommate is either a functioning alcoholic or just really good at pretending nothing matters.

"Maybe later," you say, and Yoongi nods, walking towards what you assume is his room. The door clicks shut behind him, and just like that, you're alone again.

You take a deep breath, scanning the space. It's not ideal—none of this is, really—but it's better than your parents' house. And rent in New York is a joke, so random roommates are just part of the deal. You remind yourself that you're here for school, for a fresh start. Not to make friends.

Still, there's something about the stillness Yoongi leaves behind that lingers in the room. Like the apartment isn't quite empty even when you're the only one in it.

You drop onto the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling. The cushions are lumpy, smelling faintly of something—cigarettes again, or maybe weed. It's hard to tell, and you're too tired to care. The kind of tired that settles deep in your bones, made worse by the fact that you're nowhere near done unpacking.

But at least the hard part is over, right? You're in. You're here. You're out of your parents' house, away from the small town you'd spent years clawing to escape. New York, with all its chaos, grime, and ridiculous rent, feels like some kind of warped freedom.

You force yourself to get up, pushing off the couch, and start tugging at the tape on one of the boxes. It's the one marked essentials—a sarcastic lie considering it's filled with clothes you'll probably never wear and random knick-knacks you didn’t have the heart to throw away. One of those just in case boxes. You grimace as you pull out a sweater. Like you'll need that anytime soon, with the way the city is baking in the August heat.

The door creaks open, and you look up to see Yoongi again, standing in the doorway of his room, his head tilted as he watches you rummage through your box.

"You're unpacking already?" he asks, sounding vaguely surprised. You're starting to pick up on the fact that Yoongi doesn’t seem to do anything quickly—not talking, not moving, not even blinking.

"I figured if I leave it for later, it'll just sit here for weeks," you say, pulling out another sweater and cramming it back into the box. "Might as well get it over with."

He hums in response, leaning against the doorframe like he's waiting for something. You glance up at him, and for a second, the silence feels a little too heavy. Like he's observing you, trying to figure something out without asking. It makes your skin prickle.

"Do you work or something?" you ask, half to break the quiet, half out of genuine curiosity. You still don’t know much about him, just that he lives here and seems unnervingly calm about everything.

"Yeah. Music," he says, scratching the back of his neck, but he doesn’t elaborate. Of course he doesn’t.

You nod, chewing on your lip. A musician, huh? Makes sense. He has that broody, artsy vibe—probably spends most of his time in his room working on beats or whatever people like him do. You resist the urge to ask him more, reminding yourself that you didn’t come here to make friends, or get involved in whatever’s going on in your roommates’ lives. You just need a place to crash while you figure out how the hell you’re going to survive college in this overpriced city.

"Cool," you mutter instead, shoving another sweater—how did you even pack this many?—back into the box.

Yoongi lingers for a moment longer, then nods toward the kitchen. "Like I said, beer’s in the fridge if you want it."

This time, you don’t argue. "Yeah, alright," you reply, finally giving in. Maybe unpacking will be a little less miserable if you're buzzed.

You follow him into the kitchen, which is slightly less depressing than the living room, if you ignore the flickering light and the fact that there’s no real counter space. Yoongi reaches into the fridge and hands you a bottle. You take it, twisting off the cap and leaning back against the sink, while he props himself against the counter, sipping his own drink.

There’s a quiet comfort in the lack of conversation. Yoongi doesn’t fill the space with meaningless chatter, and you’re grateful for that. It’s not awkward, just... easy. He’s detached, sure, but not in a way that makes you feel weird. It’s almost like he exists on a different frequency—one you haven’t quite tuned into yet.

"You here for school?" he asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. NYU," you answer, taking a long swig of the beer. It’s cheap and warm, but you barely notice.

Yoongi just nods, like he expected that. "Jungkook goes there too," he adds, his tone casual but the mention of the name makes your ears perk up.

Right. The other roommate. The one who hasn’t shown up yet. You’d almost forgotten about him in all the moving chaos. You remember seeing the name on the lease—Jeon Jungkook—but you don’t know anything about him beyond that.

"Is he... around?" you ask, though the answer is obvious. The apartment’s been dead quiet since you arrived, and something tells you you’d know if someone else was here.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Not right now. Probably with his friends."

You take another sip of beer, mulling that over. So, a musician and a social butterfly. This should be interesting.

"Anything I should know about him?" you ask, trying to keep your voice light, though you’re genuinely curious. You’ve already gotten the sense that Yoongi’s easy to live with—quiet, unobtrusive—but there’s no telling what kind of chaos the third roommate might bring.

Yoongi glances at you, his expression unreadable, then shrugs. "Jungkook’s... alright."

There’s something about the way he says it that makes you pause, like there’s a story behind those words that you’re not being told. But before you can ask more, Yoongi sets his beer down and stretches, like the conversation’s over.

"I’ll be in my room if you need anything," he says, already turning to leave.

You watch him go, feeling that same stillness creep back into the room as the door clicks shut behind him.

Jungkook’s alright.

The words bounce around your head as you finish off your beer, trying to figure out what the hell they’re supposed to mean. You’re not sure if Yoongi’s being cryptic, or if that’s just how he talks about everything.

Either way, you guess you’ll find out soon enough.

You’re left with Yoongi’s parting words and the faint clink of his door closing, the sound reverberating through the thin walls. Jungkook’s alright. A statement that could mean anything—or nothing at all.

The silence settles in thick around you, as if the apartment’s absorbing it. With Yoongi gone, the place feels even smaller, the air heavier, as if it’s been lived in for too long by people who don’t talk much. The kind of place where secrets get stuck in corners, gathering dust.

You sip the last of your beer, leaning against the sink, the sharp metallic taste mixing with the stale warmth of the room. The thought of Jungkook lingers, though you quickly push it away. No point trying to decode a guy you haven’t even met yet.

You glance at the boxes still stacked near the door, the last hurdle before you can call this place yours. The thought of unpacking exhausts you, but sitting in this half-done space makes your skin crawl. You decide to tackle the basics—at least enough to make it feel like you didn’t just get here on a whim.

Back in the living room, you pull open a box labeled Books + Misc, and a stack of novels topples out onto the floor with a muted thud. You stare at them for a second, wondering why the hell you thought you’d need all this when you haven’t even figured out how to feed yourself in this city yet. A couple textbooks, sure, but the rest? The stack of poetry collections you brought from home seems laughably out of place here, like a relic from some other life you’re trying to leave behind.

You set them on the coffee table, a half-hearted attempt to make this place feel like it belongs to you. The couch creaks under your weight as you sit, staring at the peeling paint on the walls, the faint water stain near the ceiling, the sound of traffic bleeding through the cracked window.

The room feels heavy in a way you didn’t expect, as if there’s something pressing in from all sides, a presence that you can’t quite shake. You shake your head, trying to laugh at yourself. You’ve always been like this—getting weird in unfamiliar spaces, as if your brain’s determined to find something wrong even when everything’s perfectly fine. It’s just an apartment, just four walls and two random roommates. No ghosts here.

Probably.

You stand, deciding to push through and finish unpacking your clothes. The small bedroom that’s now yours is still a maze of half-open boxes and crumpled bags, but at least it’s your mess. The single window lets in just enough light to make the room look less depressing, though you can’t help but notice the faint smell of old paint, that same mustiness that lingers in old buildings like this. You wrinkle your nose, already making a mental note to grab some candles or something to mask the scent.

After a while, the rhythmic task of hanging up clothes becomes automatic. Shirts, jeans, the same sweatshirt you’ve had since high school—things that remind you, even in this weirdly suffocating city, of who you are. Or, at least, who you were. The space around you starts to take shape, but it still doesn’t feel like you yet. Maybe that’s just New York, though. The city’s too loud, too indifferent to care who you are or where you’ve come from. You’re just another body in its endless sprawl.

Eventually, you sink down onto the bed, more tired than you’d like to admit. The mattress feels stiff, not yet broken in, but it’s better than nothing. You lay back, staring at the cracked ceiling. There’s a hum in the distance—cars, people shouting, music drifting from an apartment below. It’s a far cry from the suffocating quiet of your old bedroom back home.

Your phone buzzes from where you left it on the floor. You reach for it lazily, already knowing what’s waiting for you: texts from your parents. You wish the thought didn’t make you internally recoil as much as it does.

𝙼𝚘𝚖: 𝙷𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚝?

You stare at the screen, debating if you even want to respond. There’s a part of you that feels guilty for how you left things back home—leaving them behind without much of a plan, just the vague idea of getting out. But you’d never have made it here if you’d let yourself get tangled in their worries, their expectations.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment before you type out a quick, noncommittal response.

𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐.

You toss the phone back onto the floor, not waiting for a reply. You almost feel guilty for the way your brain immediately wants to run away from the conversation. To escape. Like you always do.

Your thoughts drift back to Yoongi. His quiet presence still feels strange, like a puzzle you’re not sure you want to solve yet. He seems content to exist without explanation, floating through the apartment with the kind of calm that makes you wonder if anything fazes him at all.

And then there’s Jungkook. The mystery roommate who’s apparently “alright.” You scoff softly at the thought. It’s almost laughable how little you know about him—just a name and the fact that he goes to NYU, like you. You’re not expecting much. People always disappoint, especially when you’re crammed into tiny spaces with them. But something about the way Yoongi said his name keeps nagging at you.

Before you know it, the room is starting to blur, exhaustion pulling at the edges of your vision. You’re too tired to overthink anymore. Your eyes flutter shut, the city outside fading into the background as you drift off. You’ll deal with everything—school, Jungkook, this weird, cramped apartment—later.

For now, sleep.

next | index

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[liora-vespera]

CHAPTER (1) - Ethernal Echoes

Genre:

Dark Romance, Rebirth, Revenge, Mystery, Drama

Warnings:

Not much for now, but the age gap between the leads is 13 years.

Present Next->

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The grand estate stood like a fortress in the heart of London, its towering iron gates opening to reveal a sprawling mansion draped in modern elegance and old-world charm. Marble columns lined the entrance, leading to massive oak doors that seemed to bow in reverence as they parted for the man who owned it all.

He stepped into the foyer, his presence commanding the room before he even spoke. Dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, each thread meticulously crafted by a renowned designer, he exuded an air of unapproachable power. His sharp features were perfectly illuminated under the chandelier’s glow, a cold, calculating gaze resting beneath perfectly groomed brows.

A line of maids and butlers stood at attention, each awaiting his unspoken command. One stepped forward with his coat, while another knelt to slide Italian leather shoes onto his feet. He didn’t spare them a glance—these were just parts of the machine that kept his empire running smoothly.

The man was a fortress of arrogance, his every move deliberate, his silence louder than any words. Wealth wasn’t just a possession; it was an extension of him, palpable in every marble surface, every hand-woven rug.

The only human connection in his life was his mother, a refined woman who shared his bloodline and the cold detachment they both mastered so well. He needed no siblings, no friends—he thrived in solitude, driven by ambition and shielded by an unyielding exterior.

Here was a man who didn’t just walk into a room; he conquered it, leaving behind an aura so cold it could freeze even the bravest soul.

His name is Kim Taehyung.

One of the tycoons of the business world was in his early 30s. He was about to leave through the mansion door with his secretary carrying his some of the belongings. "Taehyung, don't forget about the engagement party." His mom shouted from a bit afar so hummed and took his leave.

Mrs. Kim sighed, looking at her son's disappearing figure. Taehyung lost his father when he was 21 and took their family business in his hands, which made him to be like the person he is today. The engagement party isn't for someone else but for him. He never wanted to get married, but after convincing him for years, he finally agreed after he got to know about his mom's medical condition as she got a panick attack frequently. And the marriage was fully arranged by his mom.

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

The soft hum of a sewing machine filled the small boutique, accompanied by the occasional sound of pencil strokes on paper. Y/N Min sat cross-legged on the floor, her sketchpad balanced on her knees. Her wide, innocent eyes sparkled with excitement as she added the final touches to a delicate lace gown design.

“Beomgyu, look at this!” she chirped, holding up the sketch for her best friend to see. Her bubbly energy was contagious, and even the faintest trace of tiredness in the room seemed to vanish.

Beomgyu, sprawled lazily on the couch, raised an eyebrow and dramatically adjusted his glasses. “Hmm, let’s see,” he said, leaning in as if inspecting a priceless artifact. “Wow, Y/N, this is... ridiculously good. How do you do this? Do you secretly have four arms or something?”

Y/N giggled, gently swatting his arm. “Don’t be silly, Gyu! I just love designing, that’s all.”

Beomgyu grinned, his quirky charm on full display. “Well, with my impeccable marketing skills and your designs, we’ll conquer the fashion world in no time. ‘Min & Choi: Revolutionizing Fashion, One Dress at a Time!’” He threw his arms in the air for dramatic effect.

Y/N laughed, her cheeks puffing slightly as she smiled. “That sounds so grand. Let’s just focus on getting more customers for now.”

Before Beomgyu could respond, the bell above the boutique’s door jingled, and in walked Y/N’s friend. Beomgyu froze mid-stretch, his eyes widening. His usually confident demeanor crumbled as he awkwardly stood, clearing his throat. “Oh, uh, hey! Nice to see you again,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Y/N’s friend smirked, unfazed. “Morning, Beomgyu. Practicing your stand-up routine again?”

Y/N tilted her head, oblivious to the tension, and said, “You two should totally hang out more! You’d make such a funny duo.”

Beomgyu’s face turned bright red, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Y-Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Y/N returned to her sketchpad, blissfully unaware of Beomgyu’s inner turmoil, while her friend flashed him an amused grin. Beomgyu sank back onto the couch, muttering under his breath, “This is torture...”

Y/N glanced up, her eyes full of innocence. “Did you say something, Gyu?”

“Nothing!” Beomgyu replied quickly, shooting her a lopsided grin. “Just admiring how oblivious you are.”

Y/N's mobile rang all of sudden, taking her attention from beomgyu and her friend sofie. She answered the call and hung it after talking for some time. Beomgyu, with curiosity, asked, " Who is that ?". "Oh, it's dad. He wanted me to accompany him to an engagement party as mom has work. So i have to leave now. Make sure to close the boutique after giving the orders to the other two customers. And Sofie, just drop me at my home." She said everything in a hurry while packing her things Cause her dad told her the party is on 4 O' clock, and it's already 3.15. Sofie sighed, annoying as she thought she could spend some time with her crush beomgy. "When are you going to learn driving Y/N?" Sofie asked, frustrated while following Y/N through the exit.

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

Y/N entered the grand mansion with her dad. She just got to know that her dad worked for this person as his personal lawyer and had won a lot of cases for his company and projects. She was observing everyone and their dresses as they all seemed rich and more fashionable. "Why do they all dressed up like this is a fashion show, dad?" Y/n asked as she just wore a simple mesh gown and a little makeup. "They just like to show off, darling." He replied with a little chuckle.

Soon, the function started with the host announcement. But Y/N wasn't paying attention to the couple who are on the stage but to the food and the grand decorations. And as she was scanning the place, her eyes met with that one person on the stage.

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

The sound of clinking glasses and soft chatter filled the air as Taehyung stood on the stage beside his fiancée, Selena. The room was filled with an air of celebration, the soft light of chandeliers casting a glow over the guests as they applauded the newly engaged couple. Taehyung smiled, his hand firmly holding Selina’s as they exchanged rings, their faces glowing with the artificial joy of the occasion.

But as the applause died down, something shifted in him. His eyes, which had been focused on Selena, slowly drifted across the room. He couldn’t explain why, but he was drawn to a figure standing at the back, near the edge of the crowd. She stood alone, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. There was an emptiness in the way she stood, as if something was missing, just as Taehyung himself had felt for years, despite the wealth, the status, and his soon to be wife by his side.

For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and Taehyung felt a sudden, inexplicable jolt—a surge of emotion that he couldn’t place. Her eyes were filled with confusion, and yet, there was something else, something familiar, as though they had shared a moment in time long ago, a moment he couldn’t remember but felt deep within him.

He didn’t know her, not by name or face. Yet, that brief connection between their gazes felt like an unspoken promise, a memory from a past he couldn’t recall. It was as though his heart recognized her long before his mind did.

As his gaze held hers, a strange pain tugged at his chest, deep and raw. The sensation was foreign yet oddly comforting, like finding something you had lost but could never fully grasp. His breath caught in his throat as the realization dawned: something about her felt like a part of his soul, lost but waiting to be found.

The moment stretched on, an eternity trapped in the silence of that shared gaze. But just as quickly as the connection had come, the figure before him seemed to falter. She swayed, her hand shooting out to grasp the nearest surface to steady herself. Her face twisted in a brief flash of pain before she collapsed to the ground.

"Y/N!" Taehyung’s voice broke free before he could stop himself, but the name felt foreign on his tongue. Why had he said that? He didn’t know her name—couldn’t know her name. His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, but he felt an undeniable pull toward her, something urgent, something primal.

People rushed to her side, but Taehyung remained frozen. His fiancée, Selena, noticed his stillness and turned toward him, her voice laced with concern. "Taehyung, what’s wrong? There's people who could take care of her. We should just leave the stage. Come.."

But Taehyung’s eyes were locked on the woman’s still form. He didn’t move, unable to tear his gaze away from her. Something about her—something about this moment—felt like it had been written long ago, a story of lost memories and forgotten promises.

In the midst of the chaos, Taehyung could hear nothing but the loud thudding of his own heart. He didn’t know this woman, but why did it feel like he should? Why did the sight of her crumpled on the floor feel like an unspeakable loss? His mind scrambled for answers, but they remained elusive, slipping through his fingers like sand.

As Selena gently pulled at his arm, urging him to leave, Taehyung shook his head, his thoughts a chaotic mess. "Who is she?" he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as the woman was carried away, her figure disappearing into the shadows.

Taehyung’s chest tightened. The feeling of loss remained, gnawing at him like a distant echo from a past he couldn’t remember. He didn’t know her, and yet, everything about that brief moment with her felt like a truth he couldn’t escape. Something had happened between them once, something he was not yet ready to face, but the connection between them could not be denied.

In that moment, Taehyung realized that the life he had built, the life that seemed so perfect on the surface, was not his own. There was something—or someone—missing. And it was as if fate had brought him to this moment to remind him of the connection he had forgotten, the love he had lost.

To be continued...

[chryblossomjjk]

one thing about bts is they were never embarrassed about having a large female fan base and that’s a part of the reason why they are where they are tbh

[bangtan-bish]

YANDERE! BTS Reaction: They kill you by accident

⚠️ WARNING: Read the title, there will be mentions of blood, violence, death, murder-suicide, and other disturbing topics. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics above, DO NOT READ THIS! I will write more tame scenarios and fics in the future. Thank you for reading, love ya! ⚠️

|| MAKNAE LINE ||

P A R K J I M I N

"I told you to stay away from him, you know he's no good!" He yelled, grabbing you by your left wrist. The anger flared up in his eyes when you tried to pull away from his grasp. "Jimin, I'm sorry, please stop!" You cried, trying to reason with him, get him to calm down and snap out of it. But you made it so much worse when you pulled away though, and you realized much too late. Blinded by rage, Jimin wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed. The terror in your eyes satisfying some sick and twisted part of his soul, the part that dictated whether you lived or not. You choked out pleas of for him to stop through the asphyxiation and

CRACK!

The light faded out of your eyes almost instantly and you stopped struggling. Your neck was craned at inhuman angle, Jimin realizes and drops you. "{___} this isn't funny, I get I overreacted, okay?" Jimin looked down at your limp, lifeless body still not registering that you are gone. "Get up!" He yelled grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, no response. The panic began to set in, "Please! Please, get up! Say something I'm begging you, I'll let you leave, just speak to me!" the room was still deathly silent, full of only his heavy, ragged breaths.

He had just killed you.

He could have sworn he felt his breath catch in his chest at the thought, felt his heart stop beating. He couldn't, no wouldn't, do this without you. You were everything to him, how could he have done this to you? To himself? He didn't even realize that the tears had started to pour from his eyes, streaming out in a steady pace that matched the apologies coming from his mouth. Continously, endlessly apologizing. 'It's not going to bring them back to us,' the voice in his head chimed in. It was right. He destroyed you with his own hands.

Atonement.

That's what he needed to do. It didn't matter anymore he just wanted your forgiveness, to see you one last time. Even if the consequences meant watching you from the deepest, darkest pits of hell. 'We deserve that...' the voice spoke up again. He had just extinguished the brightest light in the world, the sun didn't even compare to you. He deserved that all and so, so much more.

He knew what he had to do, he walked up into what used to be your shared bedroom and kneeled down in front of the closet. He opened it, reaching towards the very back of it and feeling around. He felt something cold and metallic touch the back of his hand. He slid it out and opened it. For moment he hesitated, second guessing whether this is was really happening. But he shooed the feeling away, quieting the noise in his head. He felt the coldness against him, he knew what was coming, but he had to do it.

"I'm so sorry, darling..."

BANG!

K I M T A E H Y U N G

Taehyung was usually very gentle and playful with you or anyone for that matter, but when angry, he became instantaneously violent. That was the case right now. He paced around the room, the anxiety pumping steadily through his veins then he turns to you. "I thought I taught you better than this, hmm?" He stopped in the center of the room, "Answer me, brat!" He spat walking towards you aggressively, you flinch but the hit ever comes. For the first few seconds you're scared to move because surely, that's when he'll slap you, punch you, anything. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to see my family. My sister's birthday is today." You see his jaw tighten as you watched him through the veil of your fingers. He grabs your hair and you scream so loud you're sure you've woken the neighborhood. "Taehyung, please!" You beg, he just look at you coldly and you swear you'd just seen your life flash before your eyes at the look he gives you.

Next thing you know, he's slamming your head against the bulletproof glass of his living room. You don't even have time to scream for help or ask for his forgiveness because the air is knocked out of your lungs at the force. All you can do is cry. He keeps slamming your head against the glass while screaming at you, telling you that you will never leave and you will never escape. The feeling and the sound of your skull cracking open sickens you to your stomach and you feel cold.

CRUNCH!

It takes him a while to realize you're gone. He stands over body demanding that you get up, that is until he catches a glimpse of your blood and brain-matter smeared all over his window. He feels his guts twist at the sight of the sickening mixture running down and staining the floors. Usually, he was never squeamish or sensitive to the sight of blood, he killed many of your friends; it was different this time though. "Shit, baby, I'm sorry. Wake up please, please don't leave me here alone..." there was no response. He kept shaking you shoulders for over 45 minutes, hoping you'll awaken sometime soon. You never do though.

The reality hits him hard. He cries for days and days on end until he can't shed tears anymore. And then after that, he screams until his voice won't come out. He doesn't eat nor sleep nor watch TV nor read. He just stays there holding your body, though the entire house now reeks of your death. He feels himself grow weaker and weaker by the day, but he doesn't care. All his strength and power left the moment he'd killed you. He only had the strength to hold your corpse and that's the only thing he'd have the strength to do for the rest of eternity, that's all the strength he needed. Then, finally, one week later...his body goes cold too.

J E O N J U N G K O O K

Jungkook stood over you, a dangerous look lacing the usual expressionlessness of his eyes. You never intended for him to get upset, never intended for him to even catch you. Yet here you were. You'd tried to be as sneaky as you could possibly manage. But, you weren't sneaky enough, he caught talking on the phone with your best friend. It wasn't the fact that you were talking on the phone though, it the best friend part of the story. She didn't like him, often finding ways to contact you and show up in your life to try and "rescue" you from him. It made him sick. He was lenient when it came to family members, but wasn't that enough for you? Obviously not because you just betrayed his trust.

He snatches your phone straight from your hands and throws it across the room. It hits the wall hard and falls down on the floor. You back away from him before rising from the couch, "Jungkook..." the way his name falls from your lips is panicky. "I thought that you and I had an agreement, sweetheart," He says, his voice is low and it sends a sharp fear down your spine. "I-" he raises his hands, signaling you to be quiet. "I can't believe you. I trusted that you wouldn't dare speak with that slut again." the venom that laces his words makes you feel like you should run. But don't you just stand and watch as he grows angrier and angrier with you.

"We had agreement! Wasn't that enough for you?"

He suddenly lashes out and sends a nearby vase flying towards you, it barely misses you by an inch. It hits the wall not far behind you, shattering against the wall. "It's not fair, you get to talk to whoever you want!" You gestured towards him angrily l, tired of him treating you like his child. "Why is that? It's not like my bestfriend is romantically involved with me or interested in me in that way! She has a boyfriend who actually loves her!" You shout at him. You have no clue where this suddenly powerful sense of courage has come from, but you use it to your advantage. Jungkook seems just as shocked as you are about your sudden outburst. You turn around and walk out of the room angrily, planning to ignore him for the next few days.

As you're making your way down the stairs, Jungkook follows swiftly behind you. Once he catches up with you, he pushes you and you tumble down the stair. This wouldn't be the first time he's done this. But this time, you actually get hurt and hit your head hard on the steps. You finally stop falling when you reach the bottom and Jungkook is met with the look of extreme horror frozen on your face. He knows you're dead almost instantly, but he wants so badly to deny it.

"{___}?"

"I'm sorry, forgive me. I wasn't deserving of someone like you." He sighed, the sorrow starting build up slowly up inside of him, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He loves you, at least, that's the lie he told himself over and over again. You don't kill people you love, dumbass.

The next few days are hellish for him. It's too quiet and cold without you around. He laid your body inside of the master bedroom of his house, and he's slept in the guest room instead. He feels terrible about what he did. He wants to make up to you somehow, pay the price but nothing came to mind until now. That's how he found himself here, he felt nothing as he stood there, looking at you one last time. He kicked out the chair from his feet.

"Forgive me..."

THUD!

[queenrose13111]

Anyone looking for a new rp partner? I’m 25 so I would prefer someone 21+. I can do OCxOc or I have a plethora of fandoms that I could write in. I list a few below. I typically write MxM but I don’t mind branching out or doubling. Shoot me a dm if you’re interested.

1.) ACOTAR

2.) Supernatural

3.) Bridgerton

4.) Harry Potter

5.) Kpop (many different groups just ask)

6.) dramas (I again have a long list.)

Not my art, credit to the person that made it. They’re very talented!!

[lovecoree]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍— 𝐉𝐉𝐊

pairing: ex bf!Jungkook x black fem!reader

Synopsis ★: what you and jungkook had was toxic, but he keeps coming back for more.

warning: kissing, hickeys, seven mv! Jungkook (cause why not), (Reader is in the talking stage with a guy), reader uses she/her prns, let me know if there’s more.

“Coming.” You quickly got up from your couch, a smile gracing your face as you opened your apartment door. It only took you to see the sleeve tattoos and all black attire to know that it wasn’t the man you were hoping to arrive thirty minutes ago. Jeon jungkook, a handsome man aka your clingy toxic ex.

Jungkook watched with a raised eyebrow seeing your smile fade away and turn into a more confused and annoying look. “Why are you here?” You asked bluntly. “Nice to meet you too.” The grin you wanted to wipe away plastered his face as he barged into your apartment, not caring if you protest.

Simply taking off his shoes and looking around the familiar area he used to stay over. “You decorated more.” Jungkook hummed taking in the main color theme of pink and white, jungkook’s clothing basically being the only odd color in the place.

Shutting the door you watched his back as you waited for him to turn and look at you, which he did looking you up and down slowly. “Why are you here jungkook.” You asked once again, hoping it will be the last time repeating your question. Jungkook shrugged making his way to the comfy couch. “I missed you.” He said stating the obvious.

It was half true, he also wanted to see if it was true or not that you were seeing another guy after seeing your instagram story. Let’s just say jungkook made a fake page to see what you were doing now and then after you blocked him. “Jungkook, when are you going to move on?” The frustration was evident in your tone, trying to figure out if he’s making it hard to avoid him or you honestly wished he moved on.

Jungkook played with his lip ring out of habit whenever he’s in his own world, big doe eyes in a daze as he man spread even more. His grin finally coming back onto his face as he looked at you after thinking. “I don’t want to.” Easy for him to say. Monday through Friday you encountered him, it’s Saturday morning which means you’ll be seeing him Sunday as well. Can’t get rid of him easily.

You walked closer to jungkook putting a hand on your hip as you sized him up and down. Can’t lie, the man looked so fine right now it was hard to focus. “You’re being clingy, I’m pretty sure you have another girl waiting for you.” You said with a tight lip smile only causing jungkook to laugh.

“You’re right I do, but I don’t want her I want you.” He said with a pout. Jungkook leaned up a little to reach out for you, grabbing your hand and easily pulling you on top off him causing you to straddle his lap. “Jungkook!” Looking at him with wide eyes, you try to get off his lap, but he just held your waist tighter to stop all movements. He bit his lip as he took in your outfit.

You wore a nice baby pink raspberry petit fours wrap top set with a gold heart necklace that surprisingly jungkook gifted you on your birthday. Y’all aren’t together anymore, but that doesn’t mean you should stop wearing the pretty jewelry he bought you.

“You look nice, going to meet with someone.” His hands slowly rubbed up and down your waist teasingly as he looked at you. “Yes infact I am.” You didn’t want to tell him that your date probably— most likely stood you up, for some reason you don’t even know. The hours you spent to look pretty was suddenly feeling like it was going to waste.

“Hmm really? I thought you got all pretty for me.” The nice smell of vanilla radiating from you made jungkook almost let out a groan wanting nothing more than to take you on this couch right now. “Not everything is about you jungkook.” I said tilting my head.

Jungkook pulled your body even closer. “Admit it, you miss me.” His voice was husky and stern. One thing jungkook wasn’t, was stupid. He can see right through your facade that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. Forget the whole toxic stuff, he still was crazy in love with you.

You didn’t want to feed into jungkook’s ego, you were too stubborn, but the way he held you and looked at you with the sexiest look he could pull off was driving you crazy. You didn’t understand how such a toxic man can make you feel this type of way, only jungkook can that’s for sure. Jungkook loved everything about you, it was just his actions that fucked things up for you both.

You looked at his lips seeing him play with his lip ring waiting for a response. “Any day now pretty.” He said calmly knowing the affect he has on you, grinning seeing you focused on his lips. “If I say I do, would you leave me alone?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow before laughing. “Mmm, I’ll see what I can do.” He said tilting his head.

“I miss you..a lot jungkook.”

“A lot huh?” He teased causing you to roll your eyes. He pulled you closer towards his body, face close together as his lips grazed yours. “Can I show you how much I missed you?” His voice was in a mere whisper yet husky, playing with the hem of your dress. Your body reacted before your mind can as you shook your head yes. That’s all it took for him to kiss you deeply, letting out a groan from missing your lips on his.

The kiss was passionate and rough, nothing but pure love mixed in with pleasure. Your friends would’ve called you crazy for doing this, but honestly you could care less when it comes to jungkook making your body feel loved.

The kisses he trailed down your neck turned into sucking your neck leaving hickeys as his gripped tightened on your waist. “You know I’m better than him in every way possible.” Jungkook muttered into your neck as your hands tangled into his curly mullet.

He was right, he was better than him. Your date definitely couldn’t compare and you were sure of it when he made the decision to not show up for y’all date, a text would’ve been fine to let you know he wouldn’t make it, but instead he went ghost. Sad.

Jungkook looked at the hickeys he made on my neck, loving the art work he did. “You’re addicting, you know that?” He said, effortlessly picking you up and carrying you to your room.

“What we have is toxic jungkook.” You whined out letting him place you on my bed, towering over your body as he got between your legs, looking into your eyes and already taking off his shirt revealing his muscular body and sleeve tattoo.

“I call it devotion pretty.”

[ravenempress101]

I just want to get FUCKED in missionary by CHOI SAN…… that is all

[lucialauruce]

Warnings: Fake friends/H•rd©ore sex/Age gap/ squirting/ maybe stalking..?

Currently imagining about Namjoon in an age of 30 as your neighbor while you're still 19 and your friends dared you to flirt with him and sleep with him within 24 hours so you accepted it as a challenge because you have a high ego that you can do it.

You go all with it, not wasting any time. You cooked, baked and even visits at his front door welcoming him as a warm friendly neighbor and pretending that you wanna see his garden behind his house because "you are" into gardening (even though you don't even know "how to do" gardening). You talked with him, telling him any gibberish you have, pretending that you like his garden and how he take care of it, but you didn't know even from the start he already knows what you want from him by just looking at your eyes and letting you talk in lies but he just laughed it off and let you be with him. You know to yourself that what you're doing can lead you to danger right? But who cares, you only live once? (You always think like that)

Not until midnight comes, you finally get into his pants, making out with your oldy handsome neighbor until both of you got inside his bedroom without pulling both off your lips off as you suddenly felt something strange but you just ignored it, thinking that it was "just" ruining the moment you're having right now. But then you heard a sound of a chain and then suddenly he tores off your clothes like a mad man and put you in all fours and tied you up with chains. Finally you have a time to look a round as you got your eyes widening and you realize you're so much in trouble. You saw your pictures on his wall in different angles and letters beside it as you turn in to your side, you saw a different types of chains and blindfolds as well as toys that who the fuck knows who and where he uses it. (you're not into hardcore sex because you know how painful and træumatic it is, but now you gotta deal with it because you have no other fucking choice. You're tide up in chains, on the bed in an awkward position as you heard the man chuckle behind you.

"I've been waiting for you for fucking knows how long, thank shits your friends brought you to me" That's when the puzzles sink into your brain. They fucking trick you so they can laugh their ass off for how dumb you are. They must know something you don't...

The night was silent but not inside the room you're currently in. You were crying mess, wanting to hold something for your dear life as you felt your back paining for shits know how long you've been in this position as the man on your back keep fucking you from behind without even stopping for a sec. That's when you realize you are really fucking doomed.

YOU KEEP moaning as you felt his cock hit your cervix every time he thrust as the man enjoys his view below him, seeing his cock disappearing in your hole, coating him around and you keep making a mess on his bed. You squirted 3 fucking times already as you felt another orgasm struck on you.

"Fuck...please..s-slow d-down" you cried and plead but this man don't think of even stopping. He thrust even more faster as you felt his bed could brake anytime.

He suddenly grab you neck, pulled you up into his chest as he holds your leg up, holding it in his arms as he fasten his thrust making you choke your own saliva.

"You want this y/n? Yeah? I'll shall give it to you hon" Fuck that voice. It'll just wanna make you cum more.

You moaned even louder as you felt another orgasm coming through you "s-stop.... p-please..cumming..." You whimper as you couldn't hold it anymore, you squirted hard on his bed as you cried off your sensitivity.

You groan as you felt him pulled out and push you on his bed harshly. You kept twitching under him but he just felt satisfied from what he just did.

You heard him mumbled breathlessly "I'm still not done to you sweetheart"

.

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Guess no one can save you now....

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That is a full blown blast, I'm kinda dizzy while writing this... anyways Thankyou for reading!

[savannahrose223]

Warnings

Her psychopath  is a dark, taboo, horror romance novella with tropes and themes that are not for everyone. This book is intended to be consumed by mature readers who want their heroes unapologetically stabby and their heroines just as twisted as their love interests.

The tropes, triggers, and kinks in this book are such as stated below:

1. Sexually explicit scenes

2. Decapitation

3. Self-harm

4. Accidental castration

5. Intentional castration

6. Sex without a condom

7. Mention of suicide prevention

8. Mention of rape

9. Mentions of murder

10. Mention of child abuse & child sexual assault

11. Child sexual assault

12. Blood play

13. Knife play

14. Daddy kink

15. Pseudonecrophilia

16. Death play

17. Body modification

18. Blood painting

19. Mask kink

20. Age gap

21. Bullying

22. Mention of adoption

23. Virgin main characters

24. Step-siblings

25. Stalking

27. A hero who watches the heroine as she sleeps

28. Threats of sexual assault

29. Attempted sexual assault

30. Gun violence

31. Physical assault

32. Slapping

33. Bondage

34. Starvation

35. Mention of underage drinking

This is book is the novella version.

If u think u are being stalked call the cops because apparently this shit only look cool in fictions in reality u r gonna piss your pants !!!Enjoy the story if you wish to continue.

Your mental health matters.

[mrsparkjimin18]

Tethers of Light and Shadows A Demon Hoseok Trilogy

→ pairing: demon!hoseok x named reader

→ genre/au: angels and demons au, supernatural, mature smut, angst

→ rating: M

→ total wc: 7617 (ongoing, will change as parts are added)

⚠︎ chapter warnings: Themes of loss and grief, light violence, supernatural elements, mention of past trauma, morally ambiguous characters

summary: Angel’s life was never ordinary, but she could never have prepared for the moment it unraveled. A mysterious man with dark secrets pulls her into a hidden world of celestial relics and supernatural power, where angels and demons wage war over humanity’s fate.

As truths about her past and her role in this ancient conflict come to light, Angel must navigate shifting allegiances and dangerous choices. With the line between good and evil blurring at every turn, the key to saving the world may lie in unraveling her own destiny—before it consumes her.

a/n: This story was written as part of the @bangtanwritershq 4th quarter writing event ‘Monster Mash’. I truly hope I gave this au justice as it’s my first time trying it! A huge shoutout to @heathfritillary-blog @lo1k-diamondslol1k @downbad4yoongi and @pars-ley for helping me bring this story to life by helping me along the way! This is my first time writing a story with supernatural elements, so there was a lot of research put into this one lol

Part 1: Threads of Twilight

Part 2: Embers of Midnight

Part 3: Radiance of Dawn (coming soon...)

[bangtan-bish]

YANDERE! BTS Reaction: They kill you by accident

⚠️WARNING: Once again, gays, gals, and non-binary pals, read the title. There will be mentions of murder-suicide, abuse, and violence as well as other mature and disturbing themes. So if you happen to squeamish, don't read this fiction pleases! Happy reading! And love ya!! HAPPY DELATED VALENTINE'S DAY!!❤❤❤

|| HYUNG LINE ||

K I M S E O K J I N

"Why would you do that?!" you screamed at him loudly, crying over the corpse of your friend. "She tried to warn me about you," you choked out through the steady stream of hot tears. Jin just stood over you, covered in her blood. The sight made you want to smack that smug grin right off his face, and before you knew he was trying desperately to appease you. "Sweetheart, she's not your friend, okay? I'm the only person who truly cares about your safety and wellbeing, not her." He cooed, caressing your cheek gently. "Leave me alone, bastard." He frowns at your words, then, he starts smiling again like he never heard what you said.

He grabbed hold of your face, pulling you closer to him, "You will respect me, got it?" you pull away. This time, his smile falls and doesn't come back again. Before, you were always so easy to tame, always respectful and polite, the thought of even associating that filthy word with him never even crossed your mind. She changed that though, didn't she. The thought of your "friend" daring to taint your innocence caused him to kick her corpse from your hands. Once again, he grabbed hold of your face, this time the still warm metal of his gun is pressed hard against your lower jaw. You try to snatch away again and without thinking he fires the gun, lodging a bullet into your skull. Your body falls to the floor.

BANG!

"Shit, {___}? {___}, get up...please?"

He hates how weak he sounds, begging for you to get up and talk to him. He wants to scream so bad, but he can't find the strength and the lump in his throat feels too big. He knows you're dead, he just doesn't want to believe that he was the one who did it. He planned on the both of you being with each other forever but he ruined that. Part of him wants to blame you for trying to leave him, but he can't. That's when the ideas hits him like a ton of bricks.

He's going to join you on the other side.

He has to, he doesn't want to live down here on earth if you aren't here. The world was so dull and lifeless to him before, he can't imagine what going back to that would be like. It's painful. He'd much rather be able to see you happy and not be able to get to you than not at all. He presses the gun up against his chin, in the exact same way he'd shot you, slowly he closed his eyes after staring down at your body for a few more minutes.

"I didn't mean it, baby..."

BANG!

M I N Y O O N G I

"I have very simple rules for you, sweetheart. I just don't understand what's so hard about doing what I ask of you." He murmured from above you as you hesitated at the door. His footsteps started to come closer, making your anxiety peak, you knew if he caught you that you'd be in some serious trouble. 'Run, dumbass!' You mentally berated yourself, trying to push your body forward and out of your captor's grasp. Just when you had encouraged yourself enough to run he grabbed hold of you.

"Let go, I don't want to stay here!" You cry out loudly, desperately trying to pull away from him. You looked like a child who's father was trying to take them home from the park, he scoffed. "I'm doing you a favor, okay, I'm keeping you safe. Here, with me." You still tried pulling away, flailing you arm to loosen his grip. The more you moved about, to get away the more annoyed he became, part of you knew that, but you could care less. If you just went with him willing he'd just take you back and punish you cruelly, maybe even lock up you in that stupidly dark basement. Right now, you'd much rather risk him punishing you for fighting back rather than just for escaping.

You fought against him for a solid two minutes before your hope started to deplete before your eyes. Hot tears began streaming down your face and the dark cement of the bridge. The lights of cars passing by catching them and making them light up on your face. "Let's go back, now." Yoongi pulled you up from your knees roughly, and you did the only thing you could think to do, you kicked him. Your foot made impact with his knee, causing him to stumble a bit and lose his footing. He scowled and struck you across the face, you landed flat on your butt. The forces sends you tumbling off the bridge and into the Han River below.

SPLASH!

The instant you hit the water, remorse washes over him. He allows his emotions to get the better of him and control his actions. And it costs you both your life. He always knew that somehow, it would haunt him in a way. He doesn't even hesitate to climb onto the railing, gazing upon the city for the last time. He knew exactly what he had to do. Then, taking in one last deep breath, he lets himself fall I to the water below.

"Please, darling, don't leave me behind..."

SPLASH!

J U N G H O S E O K

"You will obey me, you don't have a choice, baby..." He yelled holding the gun to your mother's skull. Beside her, your father lay dead on the floor as she cried out at his corpse. "Please, leave my family alone, I'm begging you!" Your mother screamed through her sobs. "Shut the hell up! I'm not talking to you." You sat there in terror watching as he pressed the gun against her head harder. "Don't you want this to end, baby? You know that you have the power to make it all go away, just do as I tell you." He sneered.

Your mom shook her head, "Don't listen to him, sweetie. I'm going to be okay," you started to sob harder. He had you trapped, trying to force you to make a decision of risking your life or your parents'. But your father was long dead. If heaven existed, you knew he'd be there for sure. He was a good and caring husband, unlike Hoseok was to you. "I'm talking to you!" He called, snapping you out of your daze. "Make your decision...now." He cocked the hammer to the gun, you felt your breath hitch in your chest. "It's going to be okay, sweetie, don't think of me, please. I need you to stay alive." You felt your heart pang in your chest.

The pain you felt was indescribable and you found yourself unable to think or even speak. And after a few minutes your heard Hoseok suck on his teeth. "Fine, I'm making the decision for you."

BANG! BANG!

"Eomma! No God, please don't leave me, please!" He chuckled from above you. "You would have never made the decision yourself, consider it a favor." You scowl at him. "You stupid son-of-a-bitch!" The sorrow you felt seconds before dissipated at his remark. You lounged forward at him causing the gun in his hand to go flying somewhere in the room. While he was still on the ground you began to punch him in the face over and over again until he knocked you off by smashing a vase against your head.

CRASH!

Your body went limp and fell to the floor. A few minutes later, his adrenaline high was gone it dawned on him what he'd just done. He fought so viciously for you to be with him forever and then ruined that same chance with hands he'd fought for it with.

"{___}, hey, get up..."

His voice sounded hoarse and weak and the eccentric light he usually held in his eyes began to fade already. There was no response at all. He sat there in the silence before he finally urged himself to stand, looking at the mess he'd made all for you. The bright white walls were marred with streaks of blood from the gunshots he fired. Coffee table overturned. He had really raised hell itself, he scanned the room for his lost weapon. And when he finally did he walked towards it. Cocking the hammer for the finally time, he pressed it against the underside of his jaw.

"I hope you'll forgive me for this...I love you."

BANG!

K I M N A M J O O N

Your friend had heard a knock on the door, and desperately you tried to beg her to not to open the door. "It's probably one of my other friends calm down, they said they were coming over." She reasoned, but it didn't calm your nerves. You weren't supposed to be there by Namjoon's rule, hell you weren't supposed to be out at all. You let her convince you to come and hide out at her place until you could find a safer place to stay. The knocking was persistent, becoming more and more frequent by the second, until the door finally gave way.

Namjoon's eyes flared with rage when he saw you there in her house. Your friend quickly stepped between the two of you, sensing your fear flaring up inside of you. "Move." He'd told her, the venom in his voice sending a chill down your spine. You knew you were in for it when the two of you got home. So to at least lessen the blow on your friend you place your hand on her shoulder, "I'm just going to leave, okay? I'll be fine." You flashed her a weak smile, that gave away your unease about leaving with him. But before anymore protest and mind-changing could occur he dragged you out of the apartment by your wrists. "I'm sorry," You mumbled as he took you towards his car.

He opened the door for you as usual, which you didn't expect and you sat down. When he got in, he slammed the car door and started the engine. His silence made you nervous. You'd rather him yell at you than for him to stay silent, because if he was yelling you at least knew where his head was. The drive was suffocating. Neither of you spoke a word, and he was driving faster than usual. The car screeched to a stop in the driveway, and he got out and opened your side of the car. And when you got into the house he treated you like normal.

He opened and closed the door for you locking behind you, he helped you with your coat, took of your shoes and everything. And he did it a gently and with such care, it would've fooled other girls into thinking believing he wasn't mad. You went upstairs and showered and when you came out he told you to sit down.

As soon as you did, he struck your cheek. You had to bite the inside of you cheek to prevent yourself from screaming outloud. This continued and he got more and more violent until you stilled in your seat, falling onto the floor. At first, he believed you to be unconscious but after hours of you just laying there he realized what exactly he'd done. He felt the guilt begin to nag at him. He tried to ignore the feelings, bury them away in hopes that he'd perhaps forget you and your relationship with him. But as the days passed he got more and more irritable without you there. Until, he couldn't bear it anymore and decided life without you wasn't worth living. He took four different bottles of pills and closed his eyes for the last time.

"I love you baby..."

A/N: By request of a reader, the gifs have been removed from both this post and the maknae post. Please respect my decision and the reader's feelings and opinions, thank you!

[fluffypotatey]

You heard macaque moving on, you heard wukong moving on, now both moving on and in trying to be friends have double dates. I'm sure it will go perfectly well and everyone will behave normally

they're dates end up giving them the respective "listen, you're a sweet guy, but....."

they're both left at the curb while their dates walk away (maybe decide to exchange numbers bc the double date was an experience and only the two of them understand) and are still confused