#my pretty namjooning ♡

[mylovejimimi]

When three is a party, and you're the piñata | TH&JK ONE SHOT

— PAIRING: boyfriend!taehyung x fem!reader x bf'sbestfriend!jungkook — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: teasing, dirty talk, a threesome (duh), vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m receiving/giving), mild ass play, pussy slapping (but like two or so), ass slapping (like three times), LOTS of fluids, LOTS of spit (not apologizing lmao), breast playing, kinda dom!tae and dom!kook, a tiny tiny twinge of mxm, a lil angsty at some point but fluffy at the end, reader is bamboozled lol — SUMMARY: Jungkook disliked you, that's for sure. Then, why is he insinuating he wants to fuck you? And why did your boyfriend simply invited him to your bed to do so (or, better said, do you)? — WORDS: 8k (oopsy) Maybe I went a little overboard with this one lol but i added some plot!!! It came out a lot tamer than I thought tho and I changed some bits but I hope you like it anon!! I enjoyed writing the wild smut lmao Anyways please remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Ever since you met the boys, their own friendship dynamics were as clear as the shots of vodka Jimin made you gulp down on weekends. Sometimes, Jin and Yoongi would go for a drink and complain about their ages and the youngest and things like that; in that same way, Jin would drag Jimin to a wine testing, or Yoongi would be cooped up with Namjoon in the studio, or Hoseok would help the two eldest with choreographies, or the maknaes would go shopping with Hoseok and so on. It was obvious to you that they had a very strong bond and had some kind of symbiotic relationship. But out of all of them, the two youngest seemed to be the more symbiotic of all.

When Hoseok introduced you to the group, you all clicked just as fast as you had clicked with Hoseok before (which was why he thought you should meet his friends). Soon enough, you were one of them, all eight of you inseparable – until Taehyung confessed his feelings for you, and you kind of been crushing hard on him the whole time. So, there began the first relationship in a big group of single men, and so, things had to shift a little to accommodate a couple. You were relieved, though, because the boys had taken it very well and were all happy and rooting for the both of you – well, almost all of them.

You never felt any animosity between you and Jungkook, though you always felt he didn’t like you as much as the rest. He was rather indifferent to you, in your humble opinion. Oh, but once you started dating Taehyung, his bestest friend in life? Just then you understood what real animosity was like: whenever you were around the boys, Jungkook would either talk to you curtly and unfriendly or not acknowledge your presence at all; other times he would just glare at you, making you feel self-conscious, even that one time in summer when you put on a new sundress and everybody complimented you and you felt pretty for once; and he even went as far as excusing himself to escape to the bathroom whenever you sat down next to him. Of course, you attributed this one-sided rivalry to that fantastic decision to fall in love with his best friend and taking him away from him, but you always made sure to never talk to Taehyung about the way Jungkook seemed to hate you, to avoid unnecessary conflicts.

But then one night...

“Y/N” Jimin sang, in his drunken state of being. “Can you be a dear and bring more beer?”

“Why me? You just told Jungkook to do it.” Just as tipsy, your reply sounded whiner than you wanted, but you met Jimin’s gaze with a frown. Then, you looked at Jungkook, completely inhibited when you said: “He told you to do it.”

“I don’t want to. Got a problem with it?” You gaped at the maknae’s answer, but you would not let yourself be ran over by this big brat of a boy.

“Yes, I have a problem with it. Move your fucking ass or I will move it.” The other boys shouted a collective ‘ohhhh’ at the exchange. Okay, maybe you were going a little bit too far with your attitude but you had lost count of how many drinks you downed and that was enough to excuse your attitude. “Get the fucking beers.”

“Come here and make me” he spitted, holding your stare from across the room. And just to provoke you further, he sat comfortably against the sofa, spreading his legs and tilting his chin to you. You felt some kind of way because in any other person, it would be a suggestive invitation. He even put his hand on his crotch! But it was Jungkook, so you didn’t think much of it.

“Oh, you better be sure I will.” However, before you could get up to do God knows what, Yoongi stepped in.

“I will go, you brats” he sighed, getting up from his seat. Your eyes didn’t left Jungkook’s though, and neither did his, even arching his brow to you. You scoffed and looked at your boyfriend beside you.

“Well, thank you Jungkook and Y/N for that interesting exchange. But I wanted to propose a little game to keep up the good spirits” Jimin smiled brightly and devilish directly at you. Your heart dropped a little. Park Jimin usually had the power of making you expose yourself, just because you were hot-headed and argumentative. “Do you all remember that game we played once, where we had to tease each other until one caved in? I mean, now we have a girl, it should be more entertaining.” Oh no. Your boyfriend squeezed your sides.

“I won’t play” you said, crossing your arms. “TaeTae?” But your lover ignored you in favor of smiling at Jimin.

“Why not? Are you afraid, Y/N? Afraid I might steal your man?” Jimin taunted you. He looked at Jungkook, before looking at you again. “Or are you afraid of being teased by Jungkookie?”

“What?!” You were genuinely startled at his insinuation. Another chorus of ‘ohhh’ filled the room. What was going on with these guys? “I’m not. I will play your stupid game.”

“Then, why don’t you sit beside our maknae and start the round?” And Jimin smiled like the Cheshire cat. Why was he so pressing about Jungkook? Was it because you snapped back at him earlier? Because of your general distance towards him? Jimin was sadist enough to laugh at his friends struggling; it could be anything.

You got up to sit near Jungkook, not close enough to be in his personal space, though you were expecting him to glare at you as always. But he didn’t. In fact, he looked at you briefly and gave you a small smile. Was he taunting you too?

“Y/N” Jungkook began, starry eyes shiny with drunken glow on yours, equally shiny and glowing. He moved one of your locks behind your shoulder. “Do you still enjoy getting it from behind like you said once?” The question came in a low, low tone, accompanied by a sleazy smile. He started strong but you didn’t budge.

“I do. Wanna try it? Want me to peg you?” You smiled, tilting your head sweetly. Once more, your public reacted in chorus.

“If I get to put something between those two, then yes.” And he ogled at your breast, causing your nipples to harden just a twinge.

“But could you? Won’t you wet your pants just by talking to a woman?” His eyes darkened and you felt the physical need to bit your lip.

“Leave it to me and the only wet things here would be my tongue and you.” A smirk and a wink but with a completely serious tone – like it was an invitation and a promise. The guys went crazy, laughing and shouting things you didn’t get. If you didn’t know better, your alcohol-induced reasoning would tell you that Jungkook was kinda flirting with you. Why was your boyfriend just laughing about it?

“You sure about that? You always look like you don’t know what is a pussy. Want me to show you one and give you a blowie out of pity?” He scoffed, now getting agitated. You tried to ignore how he flexed his muscles and when he tensed his jaw – but it was near impossible to ignore the way he rearranged his bulge mindlessly.

“I do know, baby.” In his growling voice, the pet name sounded almost menacing… and very exhilarating. Deep down you, you wanted to keep hearing him calling you all sorts of names. “And I’m not your boyfriend. A ‘blowie’ is not enough for what I have here.”

“Yah! Don’t bring me into your dumb beach off” your boyfriend complained with a pout. Running out of ideas, you drank the half glass of whiskey that Yoongi left on the coffee table, expecting to get creative once the alcohol got on your bloodstream. You saw Jungkook mirror you with his beer.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you continued. “I’m actually looking at your boner right now and it is very underwhelming.” Jimin cackled at that, the rest of them giggled. Jungkook had the tip of his ears red.

“Let me shut your mouth with it and see if it is that underwhelming,” and he put his big hand on your knee, squeezing. “babygirl.”

You inhaled deeply, because his hand was not only on you. No no, Jungkook played dirty and started stroking your thigh up and down subtlety. Was it bad? Yes, absolutely, because you felt a tingling between your legs and a confusing desire to be touched. But bad enough to accept defeat? Absolutely no. Instead of caving in, you changed strategies: you smiled your seductive smile, and placed your hand softly on his biceps.

“Is it as big as your arms, Jungkookie? You promise to make me choke on it?” His hand on you faltered. Everybody was silent for some reason. “You promise to make me swallow my words while I swallow it?” Those even weren’t the biggest weapons in your arsenal, and yet it had the effect you wanted: Jungkook stood up and almost ran to the bathroom.

“You think he went to jack off?” Hoseok asked Jin, who nodded.

“Yah!” you yelled at them. “Jimin, your game is shit.” You were in serious need of a drink that wasn’t alcohol-based, so you stood up and went to the kitchen, catching a ‘but it was real fun to me’ from Jimin in your way out.

“Looks like you and Jungkookie are having fun together, uh?” your boyfriend said casually, coming behind you. You scoffed.

“If you can call that fun,” you grunted, taking a sip from a random water bottle you found on the counter. You needed anything that could calm you down. “Whatever, at least he seems to be loosing up. I don’t know, he’s a dumbass but I rather have him talking bullshit than to be shy and silent around me.” Taehyung smirked and looked at you intently, as if he was internally laughing at you because of something you don’t know. And you know your boyfriend. He was definitely laughing internally at you because of something you don’t know. You frowned. “What is it?”

“What is what?” Taehyung replied, smirk intact, while getting close enough to you to put every inch of his front against yours and his hands on your waist. Suddenly, the air shifted, and new tensions began arising between your two bodies. Despite being in someone else’s home, you would be lying if you denied how your boyfriend was turning you on.

“Why are you laughing at my expense?” He did laugh at that, eclipsing your clarity for a moment with that beautiful laughter that you adored since the first time.

“I just love your innocence.” His hands ascended under your shirt from their place on your waist to the underside of your boobs, nearly cupping them, making your breath hitch. You were way too conscious of being in Hoseok’s kitchen, looking at the door while Taehyung touched you almost indecently, but his eyes never strayed from your face. “Look what you did, baby: you made me hard at my friends’ gathering with that silly game and your silly, bratty mouth.” And he thrusted a little, so you would feel his fattened and restrained member on you.

As soon as you opened your mouth to cuss at him for his antics, your boyfriend wasted not even a second to put his mouth and yours, dizzying you with a kiss that you doubted was appropriate to experience in someone else’s kitchen. His mouth was way too enthusiastic, his touch all over your body, and you knew it was not leading to a normal quickie. No, he was properly devouring you whole; sucking at your lips, tongue trying to go deeper inside your cavity, hands moving all the way down to knead your ass. You tried wondering what had him so worked up but your mind couldn’t focus on nothing but his tongue in your mouth, deliciously licking everywhere inside – and you had no choice but to reciprocate with the same intensity. You couldn’t judge your boyfriend, because you were just as worked up yourself. Playing with Jungkook was fun at first but then it became serious. And so did the situation in your panties: the moment he put his strong hand on your knee? You felt yourself getting slightly wet, whole core warming… which you knew was completely fucked up. Shame woke you up when Tae’s fingertips went under your skirt and made contact with your inner thigh.

“Taehyung!” you whisper-shouted once you separated from his face, but his hands stayed firmly on your body. “It’s rude to be doing this here.”

“But, baby…” he whined and moved a calculated inch so you could feel his very rigid bulge on your upper thigh. No, as much as you wanted it, it was not right to do it at your friend’s place. You still had some dignity.

“No, seriously, what if someone walks in and sees us like this?” And of course, the universe wanted its turn to laugh at you, because in that exact moment your words were commands. Jungkook entered the kitchen looking at his phone, immediately lifting his head at your words, watching you in all your glorious just-made-out-hotly, lipstick-stained face, boyfriend’s hands under your clothes. He was paralyzed, you were paralyzed, and Taehyung snorted. Not knowing what to do, you just blurted an “I’ll go to the bathroom”, and flew the scene.

…

On the way back home, once the alcohol’s effects wore out, you couldn’t stop thinking about everything that transpired between you and Jungkook. It was mostly playful, none of it insinuating — not even the touch on your knee. And here you were, twisting it for some sort of unconscious reason. Did you like Jungkook? Did you not love Taehyung anymore? How could you be so disgusting? It was undeniable how your body reacted to the maknae, getting weak with nothing more than a simple touch. What kind of girlfriend that made you? The cheating, slutty one for sure. You felt like crying, guilt eating you up fast.

 “You had been very quiet since the thing in the kitchen, love.” Tae mentioned when you left your shoes at his apartment door. You turned around to look at him absently, and he smiled tenderly to you, caressing your face. “Everything alright? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay, baby, it was not that serious. I’m fine.” You lied. Unable to bear the loving look in your boyfriend’s eyes, you turned on your heels and headed towards his room, ready to hide underneath the covers forever. You were so bad at pretending.

The guilt and growing sadness were bad enough that you skipped your skincare, taking your make up off with a wet towel and going to bed on a shirt that was laying around and panties, instead of your precious silk pajama that matched Taehyung’s. By the time your lover got under the covers, you were on your side at the verge of crying, not wanting to see his face or else you would break down right there.

“My angel,” Tae started whispering on your ear. “I don’t know what’s wrong but just know that you can tell me whenever you’re ready.” You have to tell him, your conscience kept urging you. You had to tell him. It was so wrong and you knew it would break his heart, but all the love you had for him was enough motivation to tell the truth.

You shifted and faced him, your whole heart shrinking at the pure love that was on his face. All that love for you. And you ruined it.

As much as you wanted, no words left your mouth, but it was not needed because Taehyung kissed you, slowly, lovingly. It would be the last time, so you decided to enjoy it. You would miss the way he was nipping at your lower lip, probing it with the tip of his tongue for you to give him access. You would miss the way his hands always go directly to massage your breasts, his favorite habit since that one time you told him they were sensitive. You would miss the way he couldn’t resist you, hating to waste time with too much teasing, being the most efficient and desperate lover you had.

In no time, he threw the covers to the edge of the bed, caging you with his thighs between his warm body and the mattress. His mouth left yours to kiss a wet trail towards your neck, nipping and lapping from the spot under your ear to the point where your neck and shoulder met. You whined, because your neck was pretty sensitive too, and it only served to spur him on. He decided that near the base of your neck was a good place for hickies, so he sucked enthusiastically, kitten-licking the tender marks. While his mouth worked on your upper body, his always wandering hand caressed all its way to your panties, took them off in one movement and shamelessly pressed two fingers in your center. You hadn’t realized until that very moment that you were drenched.

“Shit, baby, what has you this wet already?” Taehyung exhaled in a deep, deep voice. Oh no. The spike in your hormones dropped suddenly and your whole body grew cold and rigid. You remembered and the emotions buried you like an avalanche. A sob escaped you, followed by tears and more sobs. “Love, love, wait, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

“I- I can’t tell you. You will hate me…” you mumbled. Taehyung never stopped fondling your folds thru the panties.

“I could never hate you, baby. Not even if you leave me, not even if you fuck my best friend.” You looked at him like a deer in headlights, tensing from head to toe. He picked up the change in your energy and, honestly, deep down, he was enjoying the situation a little, tremendously excited for the surprise he had for you. Despite your reaction, he slowly stroked your folds, soaking his hold hand in your wetness. “Babe? Something to tell me? Maybe that Jungkookie made you wet tonight?” It was not possible to open more your eyes and yet, you did. Your heart was about to explode, scared shitless for being caught.

“N-no, no…” you mumbled, suddenly losing your capacity for communicating. So many things you wanted to say, apologies in every language, and the only thing you could do was to let out tiny tears at the corners of your eyes. To spice things up, Taehyung took the liberty of putting one finger on your clit, drawing circles. You inhaled sharply, electricity running thru every nerve in your body.

“Angel, don’t lie to me. I saw the whole thing. He was after you as he had always been, but our little Jungkookie can’t keep jerking off to the memory of you in a sundress forever, don’t you think?” You gaped at him, partially for his mastered skills on your pussy, partially for all the information he was dropping on you. After you? Always been? The sundress episode?! Your boyfriend gave you The Look: that look that promised to give you something so wicked but oh so fucking good, that you will be on the clouds for days.

He simply smiled at you, as sweet as ever. You sensed something big was about to happen.

“Babe, do you think you could handle both of us? Or is my baby too weak to take two cocks at the same time?” Blank. Nothing. Not even a fleeting, coherent thought crossed your mind. Of all things that could have come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, the most unexpected of them did. You had to ask to yourself in all seriousness if you weren’t hallucinating. Would your boyfriend Kim Taehyung really be up for a threesome? Yes, it was in character with him. With a friend of his? Well, he was a person that relied a lot on trust, so it would obviously be someone he trusted much like a friend. But with Jungkook? You never considered it.

You were too slow to reply to your boyfriend, it seemed, because he took his wet hand off your pussy and slapped you lightly on the thigh. It surprised you but sure took you out of all trance.

“I asked you something, doll. Are you too dumb to reply yes or no?” Oh. Oh. He was getting on that mood, one kink at the time. Generally, his domineering and demeaning attitude were enticing enough to get you going. That night was not exception. You gulped, your heart racing like never before. “Would you want Jungkook to join us or not?” His words were stern but he was the love of your life, you could read him better than anyone on earth, and in his eyes you saw the tenderness and love he always had for you. He wasn’t pressuring you, that was for sure. So, you found the confidence to confess your sins, and to agree to sin even more.

“Yes, Taehyung” you whispered because, how right was admitting out loud that you also wanted Jungkook? Though you couldn’t understand why he was looking for an answer so earnestly. His eyes darkened in no time; an enigmatic smile graced his beautiful face. Why did it feel like you just sold your soul to the devil?

He pressed a desperate kiss on your lips, condensing all the excitement and lust that involved the prospect of a threesome. Holy shit, you thought. He wanted a threesome this bad?

“Baby,” he said, kissing one last time “you just made two men happy, and am sure you are about to give us one hell of a night.” You smiled at him, happy that he was that overjoyed – until you let his words sink.

“About to…?” You frowned and, as always, he just smiled.

“Jungkookie!” your boyfriend yelled loudly; loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.

By instinct only, you looked at the door: lo and behold, the Jeon Jungkook opened it slowly, with his big Bambi eyes looking at the floor and his lower lip between his teeth. Your heart dropped to the first floor of the building. What was happening?

“Yah, Jungkook, did you come to fuck my floor or to fuck my girlfriend?” Your eyes were on your boyfriend on an instant, red all over your face. “Look how pretty she looks, all dumb and lost. And she is so wet already that both of us could slip in right now and she would just take it.” His words weren’t that dirty and yet, your body responded to his voice almost on command. Before Taehyung, you weren’t very fond of dirty talk, but the man made it his mission to find the right combination of words, the right timbre of his voice, that would work on you. And he was always successful on whatever he set his mind on.

You saw Jungkook taking a seat on the loveseat Taehyung kept on his room, diagonal to the bed to have the best view. His eyes were anywhere until they arrived on you, a fire burning on you as soon as you saw the arousal written on his face. Never in your life had you felt so much energy contained in a room, thick and suffocating: the heat of three young people that wanted nothing more than to jump at each other’s bones. You bite your lip, because desperation was overpowering your reason. You needed something, everything, whatever they could give you. You looked at your boyfriend, the only one that knew how to proceed, he looked back.

“Doll, I have to warn you. It’s been so long since Jungkookie wetted his dick that he probably will be like a dog in heat once he gets a taste of your pussy, so brace yourself and whenever you want to stop, we stop, all clear?” You nodded. “Good, all of us will use the color system so we’re all on the same page, do you understand me?” The question was directed at Jungkook, who nodded eagerly. Tae was silent for a moment, clearly thinking, and then he doubled the bet. “Jungkookie, get that seat closer to the bed. Closer. Yeah, right by our side.” And now you had your boyfriend’s best friend right by your side, as if he was about to examinate your body being fucked and needed to pay close attention to details. Well, yeah, that’s what was going to happen.

It was it. Everything was ready and set to start. For some reason, desperation evaporated instantly and nervousness took over your body, hands growing cold and heart jumping like crazy. You had never had someone watching you have sex, much less in a threesome. What if you did something awkward? What if you make him uncomfortable in some way? What if you can’t balance out right and end up giving more attention to Jungkook than your boyfriend? You would prefer to take your eyeballs out and eat them than to make your loverboy believe that you don’t want him. However, just as you read him expertly, so he does you, catching your worries as soon as they appear.

“Babe, you don’t need to worry about anything. This is for you more than for any of us. Just let yourself be, we will do the rest, okay?” You nodded, and the deal was sealed. Tae smiled once more before diving for a deep, wet kiss. It was so dizzyingly good, the expertise he had on kissing. His tongue entered your mouth again for a short time, before making the same path it did before, this time towards your breasts.

“Don’t- don’t take her shirt off” Jungkook stuttered gravelly, out of nowhere. Taehyung smirked at him. You frowned slightly.

“Why? Because you want to see me fuck my girlfriend while she’s wearing your shirt? You’re a pervert, man.” Your heart skipped a beat. Shirt? You went to sleep almost naked in Jungkook’s shirt? Your wide eyes questioned your boyfriend. “Baby, I had never worn that shirt in my life, Jungkookie left it here when he stayed over last week.” Stopping you from overthinking any more, he resumed where he left.

Taehyung had a specific routine for your boobs. Just like in that moment, he would suck lightly here and there, alternating between the two mounds. Then, he would lick one of them to the nipple, blowing air on it and giving you goosebumps, just to hear you whimpering. Finally, he would take the nipple inside his mouth for real; savoring it, licking it with his broad, hot tongue, moistening your chest with the saliva he let drip from time to time. And after he makes sure one of your breasts was as soaked as your panties, he goes for the other one and gives it the same treatment. It was messy and dirty and you both loved it.

This time, as your boyfriend finished one side and went to the other, you made the (lucky) mistake of looking at Jungkook. Damn, if he wasn’t a sight. Legs spread, hands on his inner thighs, and oh, his face. His face was enough to induce anybody into an early cum. He looked shaken already, with lips pink and parted enough to catch a glimpse of the saliva gathering there, clearly wanting to be in the place of your boyfriend; and his dark, lustful eyes were fixated solely on your chest, about to jump on you and feast on your body, nose exhaling shakily. It was the second man in your life that looked at you with such unbridled desire, the first one still entertained on your chest. The maknae must have felt you staring at him because his dark gaze shifted and now fixed on yours.

When did this man turned from the indifferent, jealous guy to this hot, hungry-for-you man? You didn’t know if it was your imagination but it was as if his eyes expressed every thing he wanted to do to you. I want to rip your clothes, you felt he thought, I wanna lick and suck and mark with my spit every inch of your body; I wanna open your legs and bury my head there, drink every drop of your sweet juices, make you come only with my tongue inside you, suck and lick your clit until you pass out but keep cumming; I wanna fuck all your holes, make you cry my name, choke you on my cock while I fuck your mouth so hard and my cum leaks from every hole in your body. Taehyung lifted his hear from your boob.

“Fuck dude, you been watching hentai again? That’s some hardcore shit and you recited it like a love poem. Even I got wet.” Oh, so you weren’t imagining it. Jungkook grew red like the ripest of tomatoes but his stare didn’t waver: his words were all for you to hear. You were… flattered, maybe? Definitely turned on, visualizing already all those things he mentioned. And Tae, the omnipresent-omnipotent boyfriend, noticed. “Babe, no. You won’t be an easy slut yet, not when the owner of this cunt is present.” And his mouth went down south, directly to latch on said pussy, slurping noisily at your drenched folds.

The moan you let out was loud and it didn’t stop, because your boyfriend suctioned just as loud, getting the tip of his tongue on your entrance to tease you. Your pussy tickled intensely, and you got a grip of Taehyung’s locks, pulling, which made him moan too. It was all too good. You could already taste the beginning of a climax…

And you don’t know when it happened but you suddenly felt something hot, fat, and hard on your unoccupied hand. You tensed and opened your eyes just to find Jungkook with his big, glorious cock out in the open, guiding your hand up and down on it. Your eyes connected again for a moment, before he licked his lower lip and threw his head back, moaning too. You could recognize when a guy put on a show for you, and it was exactly that what the man did, with his straining neck and tensed abs – that just now realized were visible, thanks to his open shirt. All this stimulation on you and yet it didn’t feel enough, so you couldn’t help but whine at the two men.

Both of them looked at you at the same time, Tae zeroing on your sloppy handjob with surprise. He now looked at his friend and adjusted his bulge in his pants while he said:

“So, the golden maknae wants to compete? With me? The unbeaten slayer of this pussy? Let’s fucking go.” Oh no, Taehyung was in a playful mood – That only could mean you were going to have a long, long night. Not a breath passed and your boyfriend had a finger up your entrance already and his thumb working on your clit. That angle always got him to that particular nerve on your clit that made you see stars, and what more advantage in their little competition that having you writhing and moaning non-stop. Your body was no longer yours. You accepted this fate happily.

Your eyes were closed when you felt a different shape on your left hand – the one that was on Jungkook. You looked at him just in time to see him take your wrist and pulling your hand away from his balls, getting your palm near his face so he could spit on it, and then taking it back to fondle his testicles. Your breath caught in your throat and warmth spread all over your chest. It was the new hottest thing you have seen in your life. Jungkook only smiled proudly at you.

Taehyung, who was also watching the spit show, scoffed and dived between your legs. His tongue accompanied his finger inside you, going out to lap at your clit here and there. One long finger became two, then three and all of them scissored, opening you up more and more until you could take those fingers and his thick tongue easily. One particular lick made you flex all your muscles, your left hand closing tight on Jungkook’s cock. You groaned, he sucked in a breath, your boyfriend slurped noisily again.

“Angel,” Taehyung began, sitting on his hunches. You felt more wetness dripping as you ogled at him in all his pussy-eating glory. Face soaked, hair disheveled, eyes in ectasis. He even licked his lips, collecting the juices you left on him. “do you think you could take more?” You nodded in a heartbeat. “Okay, so go suck Jungkookie’s cock while I get your pussy ready, alright?” This time, he didn’t spare you even one second to think before maneuvering you on your hands and knees, the maknae sitting on your bed and your head hanging over his red tip. Your boyfriend caressed your asscheeks from behind, getting a mewl from you and slapping you hard right away. “Get to work, slut.” Following his words, he licked a long strip from your clit to your wrinkled asshole.

But you still didn’t get to work on Jungkook, so your boyfriend gripped your hair from behind and pushed your head down, making you engulf the meaty length in front of you in one go. You choked, of course, gurgling and trying to swallow with a closed-up throat. The grip on his member made Jungkook moan and put his hand on your head, to keep you in place. You relaxed a little, allowing a smoother slide of him in your mouth, now taking control and hollowing your cheeks. Your tongue swirled around the whole diameter of his beefy cock, which was bigger and heavier than you initially thought, and then suctioned hard. The tip of your tongue teased his slit and the sides of his head, salivating more and more the longer you had him in your mouth. You guessed the maknae liked your blowjob technique because he seemed uncapable of stopping whining and writhing.

“Jungkookie” your boyfriend sing-sang suddenly. The maknae was barely able to maintain his eyes on him. “Tell me how is my baby doing. Do you like it? She sucks cocks like a champ.” It was difficult with his member buried to the hilt in your face but you still made an attempt to look up at the man. His eyes found yours and you felt more precum dribble inside your mouth. “But you seem too shy still. Why don’t you try living up your fantasies and fuck her mouth? I promise, she was born to take cocks.” You could feel Taehyung’s hands spreading open your buttcheeks, and then his tongue flitting over your puckered hole. Your breath caught in you and you had to let go of the dick to moan loud and long.

“You, uh – you focus on me, Y/N” Jungkook stumbled upon his own words, but didn’t waste time in taking your head with his two hands and pushing you down onto him again, which you gladly accepted. He tried snapping his hips up slightly, making you moan and send vibrations on his cock. That’s all he needed to fuck up into your mouth again, making you gag, eyes watering. “Yeah, fuck” he breathed out while speeding up his hips. Cock pushing your jaw wide open, you mewled as much as you could, enjoying the rough treatment and encouraging the man to give you more. “Shit, hyung, her mouth is amazing.”

“I told you, and wait until you taste her pussy” your boyfriend replied, voice low and raspy and touching your pussy in that same manner. With no warning, Taehyung’s cock prods a few times at your entrance before he thrusts in, pushing all air out of you. It was intense, your insides pulsing with the girth and length of your boyfriend’s member, and then the cock in your mouth throbbed too. “Talk to her, JK, she loves it.” He grabbed you by your hair again, yanking you up until you were face to face with his best friend. “Especially if you tell her what a filthy slut she is, and all the bad things you are going to do to her.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook started, looking directing into your soul. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna drink it and say thank you, ok?” He sounded so serious that chills covered your whole body, and his command was so hot but he gave you no time to dwell on it because he shoved his cock in you.

“Bravo!” Taehyung celebrated with a rough snap of his hips into you. You gobbled the cock as much as he allowed you, which wasn’t much with the speed and harshness of his thrusts into your face. “Aww, doll, we found a good use for you as our cumdump, isn’t that lovely? Jk, make the honors of creampieing her mouth.” And he fucks up into you hard, making you move forward and choke on Jungkook. The stretch burns deliciously and you can’t help but moan, throat tight and vibrating on the cock you were sucking.

Jungkook cums at that, releasing ropes and ropes on your mouth while still fucking into it. The movements difficulted your swallowing, so most of it leaked from the corners of your lips. He whined at the sounds of you gargling. And in the heat of the moment, the maknae said:

“Yeah, fuck, slobber it all up, slut. You love being filled with cum until it spills, don’t you? That’s all what whores like you are for, anyways.” In an instant, your boyfriend, who kept fucking you frantically from behind, yanks you up with a hand around your neck until your back arched against his chest. From that angle, his cock reached new places inside you, making you scream and spill the remnants of Jungkook’s cum you didn’t get to swallow. Tae got close enough to your ear to suck at your lobe. It all was so overwhelming, you had to close your eyes.

“Come on, baby. Are you going to be an ungrateful bitch or are you going to thank JK for cleansing your disgusting mouth?” He took your jaw and moved it so you were facing down.

You opened your eyes to catch a glimpse of Jungkook moving towards you, but your brain couldn’t process anything until you felt his mouth on your clit. With every thrust, Taehyung grinded you over his best friend outstretched tongue, who moaned eagerly. Seeing you forgot what he just said, your boyfriend gave you a particularly harsh thrust, which made your whole pussy smash on the broad expanse of the tongue working on you. You screamed.

“Say thank you, you fucking whore. Are you that stupid that a little fuck breaks you?” You whimpered.

“Thank you, Jungkook” you said shakily, and that devil of a man smiled up devilish at you, before nibbling and sucking at your clit. And you came, squirting like a faucet right on the maknae’s face and neck.

“Holy fuck!” Jungkook exclaimed, lower part of his face drenched and dripping from the chin. His pupils were blown out, looking bigger and more menacing than ever before.

Your body lost all strength, becoming jelly in Taehyung’s arms, who didn’t stop assaulting your pussy. You tried squeezing your walls to bring him closer to climax, but the man had way too much endurance.

Instead of slowing down or getting sloppy, Tae descended on his ass, taking you with him to the bed head and accommodating you on his lap. While his cock was still into you, he moved you around like a rag doll so he could fold you in half, his hands coming under your thighs and lifting them, knees hooked on his forearms easily. He’s got you spread wide open, showing Jungkook how his cock went in and out of your dripping cunt. You wanted to whine and complain about overstimulation, but the reality was that the friction of Tae’s long and thick cock was so delectable that you felt a second release nearing already.

Jungkook’s eyes stared brazenly the place where you and Taehyung were connected, entranced by the easy slide in and out in your moistened pussy. Carefully, he put his hand on your used folds, stroking reverently the flesh all around where his best friend’s member was, and then his thumb went to your clit. You exhaled his name. He, in return, slapped your pussy.

“What a filthy bitch, moaning other man’s name while your boyfriend is fucking you” he reprimanded you, fingers still on your wetness. He shifted forward a little to be aligned with your pussy so he could spit on it, watching his saliva running down and disappearing between your folds and Tae’s cock. You moaned again. This time, it was Taehyung who reprimanded you with a harsh slap on your ass.

“Is playing with your pussy all it takes for you to let anybody use you? Stupid slut, offering your loose cunt to Jungkookie, dirtied and sloppy with your own juices. You’re too filthy, baby, we will have to cleanse you.” Then, your boyfriend unhooked your leg from his arm, and went to hold your jaw, turning you to face him, and dived in as if to kiss you – but before descending on you, he put pressure to make you open your mouth and just then let a dribble of saliva drop into your awaiting tongue. “Don’t swallow” he commanded, before offering your open cavity to Jungkook to do the same as him. The other man spitted with force, and got close enough to suck your lower lip into his mouth while Tae controlled you still. Your pussy throbbed and tightened on your boyfriend.

But they didn’t stop there. As your boyfriend went down on your neck and sucked and lapped sloppily, Jungkook went to your chest, dribbling more and more of his spit on your breasts, before capturing your nipples and nibbling them. You were so lost in the mess they were making of you that you almost miss the sensation of something tapping at the hole that was already filled.

You look down and can perfectly see the way Jungkook’s tip was pushing between your folds and Taehyung’s dick, like waiting for an invitation in. Even in the heat of the moment, you realized that maybe it was too much to fit the two of them inside you, looking at the girth of their cocks, and you panicked.

“It won’t be like that, don’t worry” your boyfriend, who sensed right away your worry, whispered in your ear. You relaxed, trusting him with your life.

Next thing you knew was that he lifted you from his cock, just to take your hand and make you guide Jungkook inside you. Your insides couldn’t stop throbbing; he was a little shorter than Tae but his girth, god damn, it barely could fit inside, even with your pussy as loose as your boyfriend’s own beefy cock made you. It took you a moment but as soon as he started thrusting, you moaned uncontrollably. Now you understood their plan: they took turns fucking into you, thrusting up a couple times before taking their cocks out and letting the other fuck your hole. You were really getting used by them as a mere hole to share, which was incredibly turning on.

All of you were reaching your peaks, movements growing erratic and wild. At some point, Jungkook took his cock out of you and started thrusting into his own hand, precum still falling over your mound. Taehyung was almost there, and so were you, both of you needing one last little thing to tip you over the edge.

“Jungkook.” The richness of your lover’s voice made you tremble. You didn’t realize you had your eyes close, but once you open them, you find Jungkook scooting over, his lips getting closer and closer to yours. Just when you thought he was about to kiss you, he goes past you, and you get to watch the single hottest image you had ever seen: Jungkook went in and kissed Taehyung. And at that same time, Jungkook’s tip nudged its way inside you, besides Tae’s cock.

You came like never before, so hard that all your lights went out.

…

You open your eyes once you hear whispering around you. First, you realize you’re on your bed, underneath the fluffy covers you love. Then, you realize you’re sandwiched between two strong, warm bodies (which makes you feel kinda giddy inside). You focus your gaze on the face in front of you. It’s your boyfriend, smiling as always.

“Hi, love” he says sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? Like you came back from heaven after being killer by a sixteen-wheeled truck running over you. Your body ached all over from exerting so much energy trying to keep up with your boyfriend, but it brought you so much pleasure that you still felt the vanishing ripples of your orgasm swirling in your insides.

“I’m okay” you simply responded. From behind you, you felt a warm body molding to yours, his arms hugging your hips lightly and his face nuzzling into your hair.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook sweetly asked in your ear. His voice sent goosebumps.

“It was all for you, love. Jungkookie sure put you in the spot at Hobi’s place, he had to make it better somehow.” You looked at your boyfriend and then at the other man over your shoulder. Before saying anything, you lay on your back, so you could watch and talk to both of them at the same time.

“I liked it, but I don’t know how to feel about it. What if I said no? Would you have just stood in front of our door, listening to us have sex?”

“No,” Jungkook answered instantly. “I was in the hallway; you can’t hear much from there. If Taehyung didn’t call for me after some time, I would just go home.”

“So you don’t hate me anymore?”

“Hate you?” both men exclaimed simultaneously. Was it that surprising? It’s all you felt from Jungkook since always. Taehyung laughed joyously.

“Baby, I think I never told you in what circumstances I started dating you.” You arched an eyebrow to your boyfriend. He smirked. “Jungkookie and I had to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who asked you out first.” They WHAT? “I won and Jungkookie had to eat my shit. But you’re too damn hot for your own good, dear, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you – because I can’t neither.” The explanation should have cleared up any doubts you had but if anything, it birthed more questions. All these times you thought Jungkook hated you were just him concealing his desires poorly?

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. I tried my best to be distant so you wouldn’t get mistaken and think I wanted to steal you from Tae. I like you but would never try to break you two apart.” You saw pure sincerity in his doe eyes. Though you were incredibly confused, you decided to believe his words, because you knew he was a good guy after all. And he loved his friends more than anything, that was for sure. Unexpectedly, his hand came up to caress the side of your face tenderly, looking deeply into your eyes. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” You wanted to say no, for your boyfriend’s sake; but he was the one that took your hand in his and squeezed it supportively, murmuring a ‘do it’ under his breath.

You got close to Jungkook, who couldn’t waste even a second more and crashed his soft lips on yours. He kissed you urgently, like a man that had been thirsty for so long and just now had a drop of refreshing water. He savored your lips, your taste, and sucked your lip sensually. Soon enough, his tongue entered your mouth, and fire burned in your lower half. Your body still ached but the open-mouth kisses that your boyfriend left on your neck got you ready for more in no time.

“Now let us make love to you, dear” Taehyung exhaled against your skin, while Jungkook got his hand under your panties and his lips on your collarbone. “Let us show you how much we adore you.”

How could you say no to that?

[youthguk]

Follow the White Rabbit | jjk (m)

pairing: idol! jungkook x idol! reader

genre: smut, idols au.

words: 8.2k

summary: Jungkook never involves with other idols, valuing his reputation above everything else. That's until he learns about you. But when his attempt to get closer to you falls short because of false rumors, you're determined to make it up to him.

author’s note: all characters are 18+(!); this is a stand alone story. however, i do have some ideas for more parts, so let me know if anyone would be interested in more parts ♡

“Every adventure requires a first step.”

Jungkook was known for his pristine reputation amongst other idols. And that came with certain drawbacks. 

Being an idol meant being watched. Always. He had to learn it the hard way. But he learned his lesson long ago and now no one would ever catch Jungkook’s pretty shiny eyes darting even with the slightest interest in other groups' direction, especially girl groups. He was sick of that and decided to protect his peace by playing by the rules of the idol industry and fans, scrutinizing his every move, and craving to know more about his personal life. 

Jungkook distanced himself from everything that could disturb his peace. Surely, he is showing up to events, music shows, and year-end award shows with his group, eyes only on members and fans. He is here to do his job, and enjoy performance; he is here for music, not for drama. Jungkook is now called “heartless” and “brat” by his peers; every time some newly debuted idols approach him backstage — he politely bows back to them, not willing to maintain a conversation. Jeon Jungkook is pretty content with his reputation, they may call him “arrogant” or even “spoiled maknea”, he is not here to be liked. 

He is not here to make any new friends, he doesn’t need them, it's as simple as that. Jungkook doesn’t remember when was the last time that he even bothered to check the new groups. Well, of course, that was until the popularity of your group “Bunnies” became so big that it was just impossible for him to escape from you. 

“Hyung, what’s the deal with…what was their name…Bunnies?” Finally, Jungkook gives in and decides to refer to Namjoon who, unlike him, always keeps up with new trends and faces in their industry. “Obnoxious name for a group, by the way,” he adds. 

“Are you asking because of ____ ?” Namjoon teases his favorite maknae. 

“What? No…Who’s that?” Jungkook regrets asking as soon as the words flew out of his mouth. He is, insensibly to himself, crossing the line that he drew himself. Of course, he doesn’t care who you are, he was just curious about your group for a moment. 

“Oh, well, she’s the leader of Bunnies,” Jungkook doesn’t know you (and has no desire to get acquainted with you) and yet he can’t help but pity you. Leader of Bunnies. That must be hard for you. He chuckles at his thoughts which don’t go unnoticed by his own leader, “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, hyung, but the name is ridiculous,” he shrugs and when met with a disapproving stare from his leader, Jungkook compliantly adds, “But hey, good for them, right? They even caught my attention. Well, it was impossible to not notice, I mean, their song was playing in every damn convenience store that I entered this past few months.”

“You should check the credits to the song.”

Jungkook doesn’t ask why and simply follows Namjoon’s suggestion. His eyes wander on his screen, gaze drawn to the same name repeated both in “Lyrics by” and “Composed by”. 

“That’s the leader…You were talking about her, ____, right?” And when Namjoon nods, Jungkook’s eyebrows are drawn together in confusion. “Why did you think I was interested because of her in particular?”

Namjoon heavily sighs, stretching his arms wearily, “Of course, our Jungkookie is all grown-up now and no one deserves his attention,” he playfully pats Jungkook’s head, knowing very well how annoying their golden maknae finds that. “She just mentioned you in one of their interviews and now it went viral, just like everything that Bunnies do.”

Yet again Jungkook cringes at the mention of your group’s name and, for some obscure reason, takes a mental note to check out that interview. 

_________

You were the oldest in your group and the most experienced one. When agreeing to debut in Bunnies you were promised by the company that you will simply be able to do what you already love the most — writing and composing songs while being able to perform. You never liked the public attention and criticism that comes with the territory, but as your producers and PR agents assured you, all that unwanted public attention will go past you. After all, you were the oldest and not the center of the group. Which was supposed to guarantee you a somewhat calm and untroubled career (as much as it was possible in this case, of course). 

“Welcome Bunnies!” The host of a variety show addresses your group excitedly. Nowadays, it was pure luck for any TV program to get your group to visit them, you were booked and busy. Literally. You don’t remember with what exact mindset you were getting yourself into this and what were you expecting from your group, but this level of success was unexpected, even for your company. 

Thanks to your introverted nature, your beloved members, who in a span of just a few months were all like little sisters to you, took most of the talking responsibility on themselves, leaving you only serious and tricky questions for discussion. 

“So, who would you call your celebrity crush or even ideal type?” The interviewer asks and all the eyes of your members fall on you, pleading for help. 

“Wow, no one has ever asked us that before!” You chuckle as the audience conformably bursts into laughter and you try to stall some more time before you come up with an appropriate and least provoking answer. “Well, I’d say it’s Jeon Jungkook sunbaenim, right?” You turn to your members, looking for support. But you know you already gave the wrong answer when you decided to respond with honesty. “He’s very talented and achieved so much, I always looked up to him, and still after our debut, there’s so much to learn from him.” You blurt it all at once out, not sure why you even went with so many details on your long-term crush on one of the most untouchable idols. You heavily exhale in relief, expecting a change of topic. 

“So, you would date him?” The interviewer decides to not give you an easy time. Surprise. 

“Well, your question was on ideal type,” you flash the audience with your elegant smile which they return with applause and you finally feel free when the next question has nothing to do with crushes and dating. 

That day you come back to your shared dorm with members, tiredly plopping on your favorite couch. 

“How bad was that, be honest,” you almost threaten Rinjea with your discerning stare. 

“It was just fine, stop it, unnie,” you are pretty sure you’ve heard that for the 10th time but it still doesn’t feel like the truth. “Plus, Jungkook is like the most unbothered and arrogant person, he probably will never even hear about this interview.” She brushes you off, again, but this time it works and you loosen up a little. 

The worst that can happen is being made fun of by your friends and that was the last thing on your mind. You scoff to yourself, were you really worried about Jeon Jungkook watching your interview? 

As time goes by, the worries vanish into thin air. Even though your secret crush is not so secret anymore, the general public discusses that with tenderness on how bold you were to confess that. 

Besides, there were no chances of you randomly bumping into Jungkook as BTS stopped performing on music shows. The only place for you to meet him is the upcoming year-end award shows, but by the time you start attending them with your group, your little awkward moment in the interview is long forgotten by you. 

However, the whole “being teased by your peers” thing happens anyway as on one of your very rare days off you find time to finally catch up with your only friend in this industry (besides your members, of course), Harin, who was not only a member of a group that debuted a year before you and a great artist but also a part-time personal provider of gossips on K-pop industry for you. 

“No, but why on earth you mentioned Jeon Jungkook out of all people!” She exclaims and you almost jump in your seat looking around you. It’s a Sunday morning; the cafe that you both decided to meet at is almost empty but you still feel unnerved mentioning any names. 

“Why not? I always liked him,” as you say that you are reminded by the disbelief on Harin’s face that you’ve never actually mentioned that to her before. “And nothing controversial about appreciating other musicians’ talent.”

“Talent my ass,” Harin scoffs, shaking her head. “You really know nothing about him, ____? ”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course, our little naive ____,” she lets out a long sigh of pity, leaving you absolutely puzzled at this whole situation. “Let’s put it that way, he’s known for his promiscuous ways, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t understand,” you reiterate yourself, drawing your brows together, growing angry with your friend. You never idealized your favorite artists, but this sounded more like some cheap gossip, and you couldn’t stand that. “If anything, I’ve heard the opposite about him and his members.”

“Well, that’s all a facade,” she folds her arms across her chest sensing the lack of trust. “And if I told you that I experienced that first-hand, you wouldn’t believe that either?” She snorts. 

“You’ve slept with Jungkook?” Something between a high-pitched squeal and a whisper leaves your mouth. You could’ve never imagined this conversation would lead to this. And you hate the little prickle of jealousy and disappointment from this unwanted discovery. 

“Hah, he wishes,” your friend scoffs, pure amusement lingering on her face now that you are more invested in this conversation. “He tried to get into my pants, but I totally turned him down. I mean it’s like an indicator of no self-worth if you get involved with dudes like him.” You process Harin’s words wide-eyed, all of that still sounds as if about someone else, but you can’t naively deny that. “I guess they’re just like everyone else, using their status to get to girls and then run their mouths about them, ruining poor naive girls’ reputations.”

And that was your last straw. You knew you didn’t have the right to judge other people’s personal life but if Harin’s words were true, that was terribly disappointing for you. 

“I can’t believe that… that’s atrocious,” this conversation leaves a bitter taste of disappointment on your tongue that you’re not sure will be able to get rid of any time soon. “And I’ve never even heard about it!”

“You’re lucky you know me and can count on me warning you about douchebags like him.”

_________

Jungkook doesn’t remember when exactly he started falling into that rabbit hole. First, he watched the infamous interview, chuckling to himself smugly. Next, he listened to your group’s debut mini-album, replaying with special attentiveness songs in which you participated in the creation process. 

It’s been two weeks now, and his “for you” page was flooding with you. It was almost unbearable, and Jungkook would gladly get mad at someone if he wasn’t the one to blame. Well, your songs were good, to say the least. And in every performance, his gaze was automatically searching for you. There was something about you that was exceptionally enthralling to Jungkook; maybe it was how poised you always were, carrying yourself with elegance, while your younger members were always wild and loud. They could afford to be reckless and careless, as you were taking a lot of responsibilities on yourself. 

Jungkook was suddenly intrigued by you, wondering what type of person you actually were, as you never gave in any details about yourself except for your love for music and performing. He couldn’t explain it, but he had this confidence that you two would easily get along. 

“I bet our Jungkookie knows all Bunnies’ songs by heart now,” Jimin teases him while taking a break from practicing, noticing the song that is currently on repeat in Jungkook’s headphones. 

Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to ease exhaustion from hours and hours of practice for the upcoming big performance that they’re preparing for the award show. As he immerses into the song in his headphones (which is by pure coincidence written by you), he suddenly lights up with a genius, almost cute, idea (in his opinion). What if he approaches you tomorrow backstage and says hi? It wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? He hasn’t done that since… he can’t even remember, but surely he could try to get to know you and thank you for your kind words and even profess his own new-found love for your music. He is so intrigued by that idea and thrilled with the anticipation of your reaction, that he feels a sudden rush of energy. 

Oh, he can’t wait to see. 

_________

To Jungkook’s frustration, his plan utterly fails during the first day of the award ceremony; for some reason, you are always out of his sight and when he can finally approach you — your members are right by your side. The same pattern follows the next day, and the day after that. 

Jungkook starts growing impatient with you, even though he knows it’s out of your control — you are a leader, after all, and you can’t let your group be on their own. And you are absolutely oblivious to the fact that Jungkook wants to have a tete-a-tete moment with you. At some point, he even wonders if there’s a chance that you’re deliberately avoiding him, as he can’t catch even a fleeting glance from you. Maybe you’re just shy and careful, he calms himself, and in that case, he must meet you in person and reassure you that everything is fine.

It seems that luck was in his favor this time, as your group members were asked to leave the ceremony early for the reasons unknown to him, leaving you all alone. Jungkook can only pray that all his secretive peeking at you wasn’t captured by any fan cams. And when the ceremony is coming to an end, he notices how you start leaving earlier, not waiting for the usual curtain call where everyone gets on stage and says final goodbyes to the audience. 

Maybe you were anxious about big crowds, especially now, when you were all by yourself. Oh, how Jungkook wishes he would have been able to keep you company. While you walk through the seats, Jungkook manages to steal a glance at you without the usual precautions, as everyone’s attention is on you now anyway. 

You look beautiful, as always, he thinks to himself. Something devilish in that white short dress that you are confidently rocking tonight. He could watch you and the way you elegantly carry yourself all day, attentively studying your enchanting features. Oh, how Jungkook wishes he could stare at you freely but as soon as you walk behind the stage, he forces himself to shift his attention back to the stage, nervously shaking his leg. 

After you, a couple of other idols are following your example, rushing backstage before the official closing of the ceremony and Jungkook deems that’s a perfect opportunity. He throws something about promising to return soon behind him, to his members, and races backstage. His heart frantically hammering against his chest left him wondering when was the last time that he felt so free and alive. 

_________

You enter the waiting room of your group, but as the girls had to leave earlier, you are left in solitude which you, quite frankly, don’t mind. It’s the last event of this year that you had to attend. December was insanely filled with work; you would have never imagined that this one day could have been your life. You still can’t grasp if debuting was the right decision; it was hard being a trainee and life was getting only harder and harder now. Well, this is just life and work that you chose for yourself. 

While you were caught in your thoughts, the sound of opening a door goes almost unnoticed by you. But then it is followed immediately by some coughing, almost begging for your attention. You frown at the sudden intrusion and turn around. 

There he was. Jeon Jungkook himself awkwardly standing in your group’s waiting room, nervously pulling at the back of his neck. What the hell? You have never seen him this up close, and god was he the most beautiful human being that you’ve ever seen? Easily. You can’t take your eyes off him, mesmerized by the way his in-life beauty makes you think that photos don’t do him justice by failing to capture his true beauty. 

“Hello…I guess?” he’s searching for your eyes but instead, you grant him a respectful bow, which makes him chuckle with a clear disappointed undertone to it. “No need for that, please.”

At first, when his nervousness took over him, you were caught off guard — that wasn’t aligning with all the rumors that you heard about him. Maybe this was his way to charm you? How many girls has he tricked with that slick image of shyness?

You froze at your place, perplexed by his words. Well, what is he here for then? “Sorry, Jungkook sunbaenim.” 

“Just call me Jungkook,” he heavily sighs, eyes wandering around the room. 

“You can take a seat… Jungkook,” you tentatively motion to him; the awkward silence fills the room. 

You try to suppress all your emotions. You can only hope that your stiffness comes across to him as tranquility. It took a lot of self-control, after all, it was still Jeon Jungkook in front of you. It will take some time for you to fully drift his image in your head to the one that adheres to the disappointing reality.

Jungkook scoffs, a little bit irritated with your covert indifference to him. “You weren’t this shy dropping my name in interviews,” he casually states matter-of-factly. 

Your eyes widen at his sudden passive aggression. Whatever he was expecting from you, you disappointed him. But if anything, you believe that you are the one who has a right to be angry at him after discovering frustrating details about his personal life. 

“And I truly meant that,” you habitually slightly bow your head which irritates him a little bit. Yet you still don’t understand what he’s so upset about. 

“Doesn’t seem like that,” he is still standing by the door, now confidently leaning on it. “More like just another attention-seeker, using our group’s name to promote yourself.” 

His cruel and baseless accusation strikes you painfully. 

“I’m sorry but you have no right to blame me like that,” you pause for a second, trying to catch your breath as you hear your voice cracking from despair, “and I don’t understand why you are being so mean.” 

You see Jungkook’s tensed features soften slightly, a look of concern flourishing on his face from your shaky voice. “Fine, sorry, don’t know what’s gotten into me,” his voice now calming and soothing which resembles more his angelic singing voice that you adore so much. “I was very excited to see you in person, couldn’t wait for the right moment… so I decided to not wait any longer.”

His sudden confession and change of tone leave you utterly perplexed, why would Jeon Jungkook want to meet you? If anything, it should’ve been the other way around. “Me?” You point at yourself, still baffled by his words. “Why would you…”

“I somehow became a big fan, I guess,” you quirk an eyebrow at his “somehow” in dismay, but don’t interrupt. “You are a great artist, your songs…can’t stop listening to them,” he blurts it all out at once, a shade of nervousness back in his voice.

You look at him shocked, how is he telling you all these nice words that you dreamed of telling him? The world seems unreal now. 

“I don’t know what to say…I just…thank you very much,” you bow again despite his previous plea. “And I can’t believe that you are saying this because what I said during that interview, I truly meant that. You are one of the reasons why I decided to pursue singing.” 

Professing your gratitude to Jungkook and BTS was one of your dreams and you couldn’t miss this opportunity. However, the familiar tension and awkwardness were back between you two. 

It’s clear to you now how Jungkook was trying to get rid of that, but you were too resistant to talk casually with him. Not only because of respect: whether he liked it or not, he still was your senior and it was not easy to just treat him as your equal. But as much as you tried, Harin’s words about him were getting to your head. If everything Harin’s said was true, then he definitely wasn’t the best person to get close to. You would never want to do anything that could somehow damage your group’s reputation. It wouldn’t be fair to girls. 

Of course, you don’t even assume that he would be interested in you in that way, but that wasn’t particularly your concern. You knew yourself, and you knew very well that if he tried to make a move on you, you simply couldn’t resist him. And that was scaring you the most. So the least you can do is to stop whatever he’s trying to initiate before it’s too late. 

“_____, please, I really appreciate your words but I was hoping we could drop all these formalities,” his lips are lightly curled in a smile and your heart skips a beat at that sight. 

You cast a glance at his lightened up face, his doe eyes sparkling with sincerity. Your heart aches, how could Jungkook standing in front of you be the same person who Harin warned you about? After all, maybe he is genuine with you now and has no ulterior motives.

“If it’s because of the setting,” he points around, “then we could meet in more casual circumstances,” your eyes widen in shock, anticipating his next words. “We can hang out when both of our schedules match,” he suggests innocently and you feel your heart shrinking. Harin was right. 

“You can’t be serious,” you mutter, shaking your head. “I can’t believe that.”

Jungkook looks at you worriedly, taking a step closer to you. “I don’t understand, what’s wrong?”

You chuckle at his deceiving concern, whatever role he’s playing now, he’s too good, you almost feel ashamed for accusing him of having bad intentions, but you have to set aside your naivety and face the truth. “I can’t believe I am a fan of someone like you.”

“What’s wrong, I don’t understand. You said on national TV that you liked me, and now you act like me suggesting to get to know each other is a crime,” he raises his voice, and you can clearly hear that he’s hurt. 

“And you thought it was an open invitation?” You cross your hands. Only a month ago you would give anything for a little conversation with Jungkook, and now, you were arguing with him, fully enraged. “Besides, that was before I learned about your true nature.”

“Oh…that’s interesting,” Jungkook teasingly claims, making himself comfortable while plopping on the only couch in your dressing room. “Tell me more about it,” to your surprise, he became uplifted for no particular reason, his full attention dedicated to you only. 

“I know that you…” you’re startled by his attentive gaze, eyeing you up and down. And how are you supposed to formulate why exactly you’re upset with him? “I know you unabashedly use your status to get to…to use girls and then spread misinformation that ruins their reputation,” you pause to catch a breath. “You’re insane if you think I would ever get involved with someone like you.”

To your astonishment, he starts laughing leaving you dumbfounded. Jungkook leans his head back, not able to contain the laughter. “This one is definitely entertaining.”

“What do you mean ‘this one’?”

“The nonsense that you just told me, was quite amusing. Haven’t heard that type of thing in a long time,” he reproaches you while tilting his head to the side. 

“Nothing funny about treating other people so disgracefully,” you still stand your ground. “I’ve heard it from a reliable source,” you sound ridiculous to yourself but you don’t think it would be wise to say Harin’s name. What if he is actually dangerous?  

“As a fan you surely have little faith in me” he chuckles bitterly. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbles to himself, the disappointment and pain in his voice almost breaking you. He tightens his lips together, jaw clenched. You know confronting him was the right thing to do. But why does it still hurt so badly? 

“If that was your intention all along, then yes. This was a mistake. ”

————

The bitter aftertaste of meeting Jungkook doesn’t leave you even after a week. You’re torn inside, feeling both guilty for causing him pain and angry for deceiving you and other millions of fans that he’s a nice person. Of course, he didn't owe anyone anything but it still made you cry yourself to sleep for several nights. You were constantly rewinding your conversation with him before sleep, trying to hold on to every little detail in your memory.

Harin turned out to be right — not that you doubted your friend’s words for a second — but still, Jungkook’s genuine disappointment with you felt more personal than just a guy being turned down from getting laid. And it was driving you insane, making you question your decision more and more. A torturing feeling that there was some missing part to this whole story that you couldn’t get hold of.

You desperately needed to discuss it with someone; your members never found out about what happened that day, and you weren’t ready to reveal his true nature to more people. 

Fortunately, during New Year’s week off, your schedule matched with Harin’s and you decided to invite her to your dorm, making it easier to discuss everything without filtering your conversations. 

“How were your holidays, tell me all about it,” you ask, as you both sit on the floor in your room, a bunch of food and snacks presented in front of you that you barely managed to save from your younger members’ eyes. 

“Well…” Harin starts grinning happily, making you excited for the upcoming story. “Guess who actually got to kiss someone special on Midnight.”

Your eyes widen, finally, some good news to talk about! 

“Girl, good for you!” You nudge your friend teasingly. “But with whom?” 

“Seojun from XTQ1,” she squeals from excitement and you try to seem delighted to match her energy. That name doesn’t ring a bell, and you’re not sure if you have ever heard about that group either. 

“I mean, who would have thought, right?” She continues to introduce you to her love story and you were truly happy for Harin.“Only a week before that I embarrassingly tried to hit on the one and only Jeon Jungkook,” Harin chuckles as if not believing that she actually did that. 

Her little remark doesn’t catch you immediately. And when the meaning of her words finally hits you, your heart sinks to your stomach. “Wait, what?” You almost whisper, eyes reverted on your friend. 

“But everything happens for a reason, see? Seojun is such a nice guy, I’m so lucky,” Harin is quick to appease you. 

“No-no, what you said about Jungkook,” you look at her carefully, scared to hear the truth. “You said he was trying to get to hit on you. What happened to that story?”

“Oh, about that…”Harin’sbody tensed immediately at your question. You see her contemplating in her head, as she presses her lips together. “Sorry, I don’t know why I decided to blatantly lie…” She finally gives in and you're left petrified. This is exactly what’s been troubling you since meeting Jungkook in person. “I guess, my ego got bruised by his rejection so badly that I wanted to put him in a bad light,” a nervous laugh escapes her mouth.

“Harin! But how could you?” You almost scream, looking at your friend bug-eyed. “It’s not just bad-mouthing, you made it sound like it was the absolute truth…it could have caused a lot of trouble if you said that to someone else!”

“I mean, I still wasn’t that careless, right?” She forces a laugh while met with disbelief plastered on your face. “I ranted to you out of all people, because I knew you are not the one to gossip around and you are only friends with me,” she says proudly as if that makes this whole situation better. “My delusional nonsense is always safe with you,” still no hint of remorse in her voice.

Somehow, Harin finds this situation awfully funny and it only makes you even more furious. How could she be so reckless with her words? 

“Oh, come on! Don’t be so angry with me,” your friend pleads, growing impatient with the sudden mood change of your conversation that was threatening to ruin your sleepover. “No one would even believe me, everyone knows these dudes are crazy careful, and wouldn’t approach anyone even at gunpoint to not cause even a little rumor.”

Her words cut you, a wave of guilt and shame taking over you. There’s a prick of betrayal as you realize how easily you trusted your only friend in this industry. And it scares you how naturally she lied to you and how facilely you’ve let that lie take over you and hurt Jungkook’s feelings. Now his reaction was making sense to you. And it breaks your heart to know that it was your reaction to his genuine attempt to get to know you. 

________

Jungkook was no stranger to ridiculous rumors and false accusations; both he and his group members have faced that since their careers started taking off. But then you, the person who he was approaching with nothing but sincerity, blamed him for things that he never did, and his heart broke a little. Your disappointment and frustration with him were his last straw. Again, he didn’t know exactly what he was expecting from that meeting with you. Maybe just a nice conversation that could have led to a good friendship and then, maybe, to something more. 

His personal life was almost non-existent at this point. Not only for the sake of maintaining this whole clean and noble reputation. Jungkook was not very fond of one-night stands and was a hopeless romantic, waiting for his one true love. Maybe it was childish but no one could keep him from believing in that. But his relationships could never withstand the crashing waves of his insanely busy schedule and lifestyle. Not something that he could hold against his ex-girlfriends, no matter how many times anyone claimed with their whole chest to be understanding and assuring him that they knew what they were getting into, no one could be prepared for this. He understands that. 

It’s a little bit embarrassing for him to admit to himself that he might have had some hopes for you. He felt like you two could have clicked and understood each other like no one else. Maybe he just fell victim to some idea of you and now he was just feeling the same disappointment as you’ve felt when discovering the stupid rumors about him? 

What’s even worse, Jungkook got reminded, once again, that people liked talking behind his back for no reason, villainizing him at any given chance. After a week, he forced himself to go back to listening to your music. It was still reminding him about sorrowful wasted chances, but he learned to brush it off. After all, it was neither his nor your fault. You didn’t know him personally and weren’t obliged to blindly trust him. 

Just when Jungkook feels like the wound doesn’t hurt him anymore, he receives a strange notice from his manager which invokes a sudden fluttering in his stomach. 

“Her company suggested for you two to film a short collab video with their dance,” his manager stated leaving Jungkook in pure shock. “It was ridiculous how bold they were to even propose this, but then we thought it might be beneficial for everyone. Of course, you don’t need this but Bunnies are super trendy in Korea right now, so it won’t hurt you and your group in general for sure.”

“No, I’m not interested,” Jungkook is quick to answer. He knows this must be your company’s idea, desperately trying to monetize on our innocent statement regarding your ‘crush’ on him. He will spare you with his presence. 

“Right,” his manager nods understandingly. “I actually declined the offer the first time, but the second time their group’s leader, ____, got on the phone herself, convincing me to give her a chance,” the manager shakes his head, remembering your desperate attempt. 

Jungkook freezes at the last words, not believing. And trying his best to not give away his sudden rush of excitement, he’s quick to add. “I think you are right, it won’t hurt me,” and he actually means it. Whatever is the reason behind your unexpected desire to meet with him, it surely can’t make things worse at this point. “Schedule a meeting at my practice room.”

_________

You fidget on your seat while waiting for Jungkook in the practice room at Hybe’s building. Getting here made a lot of fuss, and your managers did a lot of work to get you permission to enter the building as a guest. You were almost sorry to them adding all that stress to their already heavy workload. But you didn’t see any other way for you to apologize to Jungkook. You were determined to do that in person and this excuse of filming a video seemed handy right now. Maybe he will bring an operator or a manager, it would still give you a chance to stay alone with him for some time. 

The sound of the door being closed brings you out of your thoughts and you flinch at your seat. Jungkook was standing still at the door, reminding you of your first unfortunate encounter with him. It’s fine, you think to yourself. You will do your best to apologize to him. 

You get up from your seat, nervously standing. “Hi,” you raise your hand to wave at him. “Thank you for not turning down this meeting.”

You see him scoff, lips pressed together. He’s hesitant. “I’m just slightly intrigued. Why would you want to meet up with someone like me, again?” He quirked an eyebrow at you. 

“Jungkook, I’m very sorry,” you plead, pulling the palms of your hands together. “I shouldn’t have said such stupid things to you. If I could, I’d take that back.” 

You didn’t want to mention Harin as it still was your own choice to not only believe those rumors but also accuse Jungkook of them while meeting him for the very first time. But as you watch him fold his arms across his wide chest, you start contemplating. Maybe it was still worth mentioning…

“It doesn’t make things any better but, just so you know, I’ve heard that from a very close friend, I just couldn’t imagine that she would straight up lie to me,” you blurted hoping to see any change in him. 

But he only sneers at you, nibbling at his lower lip. “Well, maybe it was all true, then what?” 

You are startled by his question but still, make a step towards him. “I know none of that is true, I’m sorry,” you try to emphasize each of your words. 

“What if some of it was true?” Jungkook makes several steps forward, reducing the distance between you two drastically.

“What do you mean? I know it’s not,” puzzled with his determination to prove you wrong, you search for his eyes. His gaze now has darkened, doe eyes filled with blazing anticipation. 

“What if I told you that your stupid and untrustworthy friend was right about one thing?” He steps forward again, your bodies suddenly at a dangerously short distance from each other. 

You sigh feeling the overflowing warmth of his body. What was he doing now? Is this some wicked way of trying to scare you off? You try to retreat, taking a step back but you almost tumble on the sofa behind you but Jungkook quickly catches you, grabbing your forearms. 

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, hating that it must be so obvious to him how nervous you’re. And well, almost falling on the couch (that you were very well aware of) is probably not making you look confident either. 

“Are you scared now?” He smirks, hands still on your arms even though you’re not planning to fall anymore 

“Stop asking so many questions,” you snap at him to your own surprise. “I came to apologize but now you decide to live up to my stupid accusation? This is ridiculous.” 

“Oh, look how brave you are now,” he dramatically sighs in amusement. “But I said there was one truth to your claims. Can you guess it?” He leans down to you, making it impossible for you to escape his warmth. 

“No,” you say blinking up at him, head not thinking straight anymore. “I have no idea what you’re insinuating,” you say honestly. Of course, there’s a stupid hope growing inside of you that he’s interested in you but you try to not let it get to your head. Jeon Jungkook is interested in you? It even sounds ridiculous. 

“You were right. I wanted to get to know you because I liked you,” the sharpness of his gaze cuts through the electricity filling the room. You raise your eyebrows, unable to look away from him. “Does that scare you?” His honey-laced voice is like music to your ears, how could you resist?

“No,” you are startled by the firmness in your own voice. He's taken aback by your response just as much as you are, searching for a hint of doubt in your eyes. And you know that there’s none when you feel his thumb caressing your arm; a simple gesture to which you feel your stomach tightening. 

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you know he doesn’t need an answer anymore. “Is that because now you know that it all was only for you?” He leans closer to your face, his warm breath brushing your skin making you crave more. “That I only got my eyes on you?” He looks at you one more time, a smug grin plastered on his enthralling lips. 

You nod, biting on your lower lip, having no idea where this whole situation is leading to. “Yes.” 

Jungkook’s lips finally meet the skin of your jaw, and you let out a sigh from this long-awaited closeness. His hands fall on your hips while his lips leave a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck. You lean your head back trying to give him more space at which he chuckles satisfied. “Good girl,” his whisper hits your neck and you feel warmth flooding your body. Your hands slide around his neck, pulling him closer as you desperately need more of him. 

Jungkook doesn’t need to be asked twice and he buries his face in your neck, leaving wet kisses making you close your eyes in pleasure. 

“Jungkook, please,” you whimper, needing to finally feel him on your lips. “Kiss me,” you beg him.

Your eyes shut open when you’re hit with coldness after his lips leave your neck. But then you are met with Jungkook’s eyes, looking at you in anticipation. You can see he’s needy just like you, licking his lower lip. 

“Come here,” he rasps and you finally feel his breath hitting your lips while his fingers dig deeper into your hips. 

You never even dared to imagine what it would be like to kiss Jungkook, but when his lips meet yours you feel an unknown sensational feeling filling every inch of your body. How is he so good? You let out a quiet moan as his soft tongue pokes out, desperately entering your mouth. 

Kissing Jungkook felt natural, so perfect, you weren’t sure you could ever get enough of that. He was taking his time exploring you, attentive to every response of your body to his actions. 

You brush your hand through his silky hair, pulling him even closer to you, needing to dive deeper into the kiss. Jungkook groans into your mouth, feeling your confident touches on him. His hands start traveling up from your hips, discovering every curve of your body. You arch your back towards his touches, hands on his chest. 

Your body tenses as you feel him beckoning you to the couch behind you, still not breaking the kiss. You are both nervous and thrilled at this. Are you really doing this with Jungkook at his workplace? You must be out of your mind, for sure. But it was hard to be your usual restrained self around Jungkook. 

When he carefully places you on the sofa, you almost whimper in despair as he breaks the kiss to stand up. But then you see him teasingly smile at you as he reaches for your shorts, sliding them down your legs, every touch of his hands with your body sends shivers down your spine. You start feeling an unbearable pulsation between your legs when Jungkook, hovering above you, studies every part of your body that’s exposed to him now. His hungry gaze traveled up and down, teeth biting down on his lips. 

He reaches for the hem of your shirt, determined to get rid of it as well. But you put your hand over his, stopping him. You’re frustrated with that as much as he is, but it’s probably the last remnant of consciousness kicking in now. 

“Next time?” He arches an eyebrow at you. Is there gonna be  next time? But you just nod, questions later. 

Jungkook seems content with the deal as his hand immediately trails down, leaving his attempt to take off your shirt. Finally, he dives back to you, your lips meeting again, in a more passionate and needy kiss, mouths melting together. When Jungkook places himself between your legs, you feel the weight of his body perfectly pressed against yours. 

“I want to feel you, Jungkook,” he catches the moan escaping your lips. You frown, angry at the clothes separating you from feeling the warmth of his skin fully. But not here, next time, you remind yourself. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, baby,” he grants you a mischievous smile. And then his hand slides down, reaching your wetness. Jungkook’s gaze fixed on you, enjoying how your eyelids flutter closed. 

You feel Jungkook’s body shudder as he dips his fingers inside of you and you squeeze your eyes shut, groaning. “So wet, and it’s all for me, baby?” 

“Yes, for you, Jungkook,” you whine as he goes back to your neck, leaving there wet kisses as he continues to slide his fingers inside you all the way in and back out a few times, taking his time with his long strokes. You hear his raspy growl as he’s getting used to how tight and soft your pussy is.

You arch your back, rolling your hips towards him, trying to meet him and get deeper and deeper. Jungkook moves his fingers up, rubbing your clit. 

“Jungkook, I can’t,” you let out a whimper, wanting more of him, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“Oh, baby, but you can, you are perfectly made for this,” his low voice makes you shiver around his fingers. Jungkook doesn’t intend to slow down, as his fingers continue to pump you in a deep and steady pace, coming out only to swirl around your clit. 

“I want to feel you, please,” you pant lustfully. Since when you were so brave?  

You don’t expect Jungkook to obey your words immediately, but this time he doesn’t make you suffer any longer. You watch as he rises up, reaching for the backpack right next to the sofa, fumbling in the pocket. He starts to grow impatient as he can’t seemingly find what he’s looking for, which also kills you. And then he finally pulls out a condom, tearing it open with his teeth. You watch him in awe, turned on by his eagerness. 

He lowers his sweatpants and you heavily sigh as he pulls out his big and hard cock. Your heart pounders against your chest as you watch him roll the condom on. Jungkook breathes hard, and you feel his body finally back on yours. He pushes aside your panties, rubbing his tip against you and you throw your head back, not sure how you’ll be able to wait any longer for him. Your pussy throbbing as he reaches for your lips again in a kiss, only to break it again a moment later, to watch your face when he places his cock between your legs. 

He slowly enters you, watching how you let out a moan. He’s thrusting his hips steadily, and you stretch around him. Jungkook sinks deeper into you, twisting his arm around your waist. You feel your nipples harden against the fabric of your bra and curse to yourself again for not taking it off earlier. 

Jungkook frowns as he buries himself deeper and deeper into you. “Fuck, ____,” he mumbles to your ears and you spread your legs wider, letting him pull out his full length and thrust back in, stretching you. 

You gasp at the feeling of his cock filling you, rolling your hips towards him each time, craving for more and more. “Jungkook, it’s so good,” you lick his neck, trailing it with kisses while your body shivers under him. 

Jungkook starts fastening his pace and you close your eyes shut, sliding your hands down his thighs, gripping his ass, and pressing him even closer to you as he thrusts harder and rougher now. 

You feel his hand behind your back, cupping your ass to nestle in his dick deeper, you hear him panting as he quickens his thrusts, and lewd noises shamelessly filling the practice room. His cock nudges you deep inside and you cry out, pussy clenching around Jungkook as you break loose. 

“Oh, God, Jungkook!” You throw your head back, pulling Jungkook into a deep, passionate kiss as he continues to fuck you faster. 

Jungkook watches how you drown in pleasure, your body trembling under him. He pushes in and out one more time and you see how he shuts his eyes, groaning in your mouth as he stops, body shuddering. He relaxes on top of you, as you trail your hands up and down his back, both of you heavy breathing. 

You lay like that for some time more, both of you adamant to let go of each other. Why would you ever want to leave his arms when it felt so right, so perfect to be cuddled with each other? 

Jungkook places small kisses on your face and you let out jolly giggles and then reality hits you. You froze, eyes glaring at him horrified. “ What if someone heard us? Fuck, I totally forgot about that!”

You pushed him from yourself, forcing him to stand up. Jungkook watches you hurriedly put on your shorts, brushing your hair while looking at the mirror, hoping to make yourself presentable again. He drawly pulls back his sweatpants. “Come on, it’s a practice room. It has some soundproof thing to it, don’t worry.”

“Gosh, Jungkook, we didn’t even bother to put on some music,” you sigh desperately, grabbing your head, thinking back to everything that happened. 

“Well, we obviously had more important things to worry about, right?” Jungkook smirks, approaching from behind, giving you a back hug, hands firmly on your waist. 

You look at both of your reflections in the mirror and almost gasp. Who would have thought that you would end up like this? 

You have no time to rack your brain on that any longer as you hear loud raps on the door. You look back at both of you, to make sure you both look decent. Well, your hair is a mess, your cheeks are blazing red, and Jungkook is not any better. 

You stare in panic at Jungkook but he just smiles, calmly opening the door and letting in the intruder. Well, at least, it seems like the door was locked, you think to yourself as your blood runs cold realizing that you didn’t even worry about shutting the door before getting on the couch with Jungkook. 

“Are you done with the dancing video?” A man enters the room and you recognize his voice. You talked with him on the phone, begging him to let you come here. 

“Yes!” You scream, surprising both Jungkook and his manager. “I believe we are done,” you say calmly, lowering your voice. 

“Are you sure you've finished?” Jungkook looks at you innocently, and you feel your cheeks burning red again. “I’m sure we can still make better takes, don’t you think so, ____ ?” 

Oh, right. The dancing video, the reason why you came here in the first place. You almost forgot about your excuse. You breathe out in relief but then met with Jungkook’s hazed eyes and a cocky grin, you realize his question isn’t so innocent after all. 

“Yeah, you’re right. We can definitely do some more takes.”

____________ 

any feedback is highly appreciated, please let me know your thoughts <;3 

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

CHAPTER 01

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: pretty much none for this chapter! Just a nice fluffy, protective and sweet chapter :)

A/N: hi everyone! Thank you all so much for your support I received for the prologue chapter I uploaded yesterday. I am really happy and grateful. If you enjoy the story, please let me know. I'm always looking for advice. English isn't my first language so please be patient :))

Also, I saw other people use taglists for accounts, I'm not 100% how it works, but if anyone would be interested I will try to figure it out.

Please take care of yourself. I love you.

Words count: 3385

Prologue:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

"Hyung? Hello?"

"Hm? What's up? Are you guys on your way? Jin is starting to stress out 'bout it."

His voice sounded calm, not worried one bit. It was obvious he was most definitely sitting by the fireplace, reading some poetry book. Kook got him one not too long ago as a thank-you gift, and before leaving with Yoongi, Jimin did notice it laying on the couch.

The youngest loved and respected his pack alpha, so showing gratitude in any way was very close to his heart. A simple plant for a nice camping-trip-hike Joon planned for them wasn't too unusual, a new pair of limited edition sneakers was granted, or a nice book of poetry, bought at the seasonal book fairs he sneakily visited, so the alpha would be surprised.

Of course, Jungkook often spoiled all of his other pack members, but among the pack, it was quite usual to buy Namjoon occasional small gifts. After all, he was keeping them well-kept, safe, warm, and fed.

Sure, they all may be alphas, suited to take care of themselves, and they did, but sometimes handing off the lead and worries to him was just too tempting. They needed to rent a house for a weekend stay in a different country? Joon would by no means even allow them to try and do it. The pack wants to buy ice-cream? Yes, he will go on and order it for the group, making sure to not forget any of the complicated toppings and flavor combinations.

Namjoon still had occasional mishaps, accidentally breaking new tableware, another controller, or losing his keys over and over, but his pack never took it too wrongly and knew of all the good he brought to them. It always outweighed the clumsiness.

"Yea hyung, we are on our way to the car right now, but-"

It didn't take him too long to notice that Jimin's voice was softer than usual, and even without being able to smell his scent, he was able to sense a sort of worrying undertone.

While he could start firing out questions right away, it wasn't his first day dealing with any issues involving his younger packmates. Everything could be sorted calmly in pretty much every situation, and he was a big believer of that fact. Though when he heard a whimper in the background of the call, he too grew worried. He sat up, putting the small book away. Unconsciously, he paid attention to everyone in the house at the moment; Jin's smell was in the kitchen, the occasional sizzling of oil and pots heard, Taehyung's scent upstairs, a bit too far for him to be able to sense what exactly he was doing, noting of Hobi's bright smell in his studio downstairs, and Jungkook's, also on the bottom-floor gym.

"Jimin-ah? What is it?" He didn't sound too overly concerned, even if he was quite worried. He didn't hear Chim sound so stressed in some time for sure. It was quite usual for the pack alpha's to try to bring peace to the pack, always have a rational mind and calm any agitation and anxiety.

Listening closely, only a bit of shuffling and fumbling noises could be heard.

"Um..- we met an omega..-"

A longer pause continued, and a faint voice of Yoongi in the background. He didn't hear him speaking so softly in a very long time, making Joon's eyebrows furrow only deeper.

"An omega? Are they okay?"

"No, hyung, something is really wrong..- her scent, she is really, really anxious for some reason-"

"Did you try to settle her? She could have entered omega space; you have to be really careful with that. Where are you right now? I'll come there to help."

"Yoongi hyung said it's the best for us to just take her home to us right now; we just got into the car and are leaving the parking lot now." Jimin said with the faint sound of the motor in the background.

"Alright, that's okay. I'll tell others. It's better for her to be somewhere with only a few specific scents than the mix of ones that belong to the group of strangers. Is she crying?" His question was followed by a soft sound of fabric moving. A shorter pause and then a yes.

Sighing, Namjoon stood up and started to make his way towards the kitchen. Jin looked up but didn't say anything after seeing him calling, and continued cutting up a few onions. Opening one of the top cabinets, he took out an essential oil often used for newly presented alphas for when their nose suddenly got bit too sensitive with the heightened smell. It wasn't uncommon for betas or omegas to use such oils or scented candles either, though.

"Poor cub. Just make sure you drive safe, okay? I'll try to get some things ready for her to nest with; that should help. Hyung is still cooking, but it should be done soon, did you buy the batteries for Tae and Koo?"

"Yea, we did, don't worry. We got some more stuff from that new game store for them too, but you'll see at home. Thank you, we will be there in about.. 10 minutes? I think?"

"Alright. Be careful, talk to you later."

Ending the call and folding his phone into his jeans pocket, the pack alpha looked towards his eldest hyung, who was already staring at him with questions written all over his face.

"What is it? I can smell you are worried, Joon."

For a few moments, he didn't answer, still bit too confused about everything. They didn't have an omega at their pack house basically ever.

"At the mall, they found an omega; she must have been really unsettled, so they tried to help. They are taking her here now."

Once again, talking without any noticeable worry in his voice. It was only his scent that carried a slight stench that was offsetting.

"An omega? Where is their pack? We have to notify her pack alpha; this could be serious."

"Yea, I think so too. Can you give her a meal too? We should have enough for one more person, right?"

Jin turned back around to stir the sizzling pan of glass noodles, softly humming.

"Of course, we have more than enough. You should go tell others. I'll go open windows so there is fresh air here, and it's not too scented for her right away."

"Thanks, hyung. I just hope she won't drop, so let's try to prevent that in any way possible."

Agreeing, he left Jin to his thing and started making his way towards the private studios.

Knocking softly on the doors in a short pattern, he didn't wait too long before he opened the entryway. There sat Hoseok, turned towards him. There was an open file on the screen that he was working on for the past few days.

"Hey, what's up?"

Closing the door after him, the pack alpha took a seat on the large black leather couch.

"I just got a call from Jimin; they are on their way back home. They have an omega with them though, they are taking her to the pack house."

Hobi's eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly.

"Really? Why?"

Sitting up slightly, he kept his eyes on Namjoon.

"Minnie said something was really wrong; she was just too unsettled, and they couldn't find her pack I guess either."

"Oh poor thing, they get really stressed in public places; she must have gotten overwhelmed," softly cooing at the thought of a soft, sad, anxious omega. Hobi always had a soft spot for those in need. And from the description, the little omega must be in need for sure.

"Yea, I think so too. Do you have any new blankets and pillows? Or just anything that's unscented still? We have to prepare at least some nesting materials."

"Probably don't have a blanket per se, but I have bought a new hoodie online, so it should be sealed in plastic and unscented. That could help right?"

"For sure, that would be great," smiling, Hobi stood up and took a still unopened carton box. Ripping off the tape and pulling out a white milky plastic package, a paper written note fell onto the ground. Gasping softly, he bent down in the chair. Handing him the package, he looked at the note, smiling softly. "Ah, look, they wrote me a nice note!" his bright heart-shaped smile brightened up Joon's slightly anxious mood immediately.

Chuckling, the man stood up. "They should! You always order so much!" he said as he opened the door to the hallway. "Thanks hyung, they should be here in a few minutes, okay?"

Now turned back towards the screen, he heard a light "Yup!" making him leave the room, closing the door softly. Now on his way towards the gym, the young pack alpha wasn't too worried about the youngest - or any of his pack members in general.

It was a shock for sure, but they were a healthy pack with strong bonds and relationships, and if Yoongi believed it was best to take the omega to their home, then it definitely was that way. They didn't meet a lot of omegas at their company, since they were only allowed to do very few jobs. Omegas required a good, peaceful company of a similar group that was kept constant, and with how many people mingled during the tours and such, it was hard to keep that up.

Sudden omegadrops were then a bit too usual, causing more worries and stress. Really, there were only a minimal amount of omegas in BigHit; it wasn't common for omegas to work in general either. Some packs that were more modern did support the idea, but the traditional ones were used to pretty much taking care of all of their financial needs.

The door of the gym was left slightly open, so Joon knocked to make himself known and entered. Jungkook was leaning against a wall, breathing heavily with a glass of water in hand. His big eyes widened, and he stood up fully, taking a big gulp.

"Hey hyung," breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath, he ran a hand through his long, messy hair.

"Hey Jungkook, Yoongi called me a few minutes ago; they are on their way home right now, but there will be an unsettled omega coming with them too, okay? Something must have gone wrong for her; I think she might drop on them, so they decided taking her to us will be the best right now."

The youngest didn't say much for a few seconds. Placing his glass on the ground, he came closer to his pack alpha, his scent subconsciously wafting out calming pheromones. It was natural for any alpha or beta to try and calm anyone that was just a bit weak and scared. It just happened naturally.

"Omega? They will want to nest then; we should get some stuff ready quickly.."

"Yea, do you have any unscented stuff lying around?" furrowing his eyebrows in thought, Kook closed his eyes thinking. Wiping off sweat from his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, he nodded.

"Yea, I bought new bed sheets; I think they arrived this morning... And I should also have a pillow that isn't scented by any of you, just me if that works?"

"Thanks Koo, that helps a lot. Can you go get it and take it to the guest room upstairs?" Nodding quickly, they both left the gym, Namjoon quickly squeezing his shoulder in approval.

Walking upstairs, the young pack alpha made his way towards the room that Taehyung was in at the moment. Knocking and opening, his packmate was laying on the bed, softly snoring, covered by a few blankets. Coming to his side, he shook his shoulder, waking him up.

"Yah, Taehyung-ah, wake up; it will be dinner soon," the younger slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times. Sighting out, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and hair out of the way.

"..Huh?" was the only thing the tired man could get out, mumbling incoherent words towards the pack alpha. Knowing he won't get far like this, he sent him to the bathroom to freshen up. He will tell him once he is able to take in information.

Closing the door and making his way back downstairs, he looked at the clock, only to see that it was about 15 minutes since the call. Noticing Jin getting the table ready with Hobi, he placed the packaged jumper on the couch, leaving it there. Taking a seat next to it, he decided to wait for the rest of his pack, listening to any noises from outside.

It didn't take too long until he heard the garage door opening and a car in the entryway. The soft sound of the motor turned off soon, and with that, Joon stood up and walked towards the entry door. He could sense Hoseok and Jin watching him do so.

The cold air hit him; it was still snowing outside, and the strong storm didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. While the nice, snowy Christmas was, in his opinion, superior to the wet, muddy one, it could be dangerous when driving. Knowing so, he watched Yoongi walking towards the entrance, his coat already covered in snow after only a few seconds of being outside. One of his hands was behind his back, seemingly clutching the palm of the omega.

Oh, but the small omega.

His breath hitched in his throat when he could smell her - the sweet, peach-like scent mixed with rose blooms was really nice, but it was covered by the stench of a rotting fruit. She was afraid, anxious, and worried, and the alpha inside of him felt the overwhelming need to keep her safe and secure.

Her hair and scarf covered most of her face, her eyes downcast as she clutched Yoongi's right hand, softly pattering behind him through the shoveled pathway. Jimin closed the garage doors and followed soon after.

Yoongi made short eye contact with Namjoon, only to pull the girl closer to the doors. Stepping out of the way, the alpha addressed her scent, sniffing the top of her head slightly - a traditional way to show she was welcome and allowed to come inside of their packhouse. Her big eyes were still filled with tears, playing with his feelings.

„Hello, what's your name?” Bending to see her face better they stood close to the doors while Jimin and Yoongi started to remove their boots and coats, placing away the plastic bags. Lifting up her chin to place it over the nice thick scarf she wore, she opened her soft lips to speak.

„L/N F-F/N..” the omega mumbled softly, sniffling at the end. The pack alpha was tempted to coo loudly, but held back for now.

„Alright, my name is Kim Namjoon, I'm the pack alpha... What happened hm?” She looked away, with her hands in the pocket, unconsciously bearing her neck just the slightest. When he didn't get an answer, he lifted his hand and softly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

„It's okay, don't worry. We will help, yea? Come on, let's get your coat off and eat some dinner, okay?” only receiving a soft mumbled yea, the small omega shakily started to untie her gray scarf, the pack alpha helping her when she started to fumble with it. Softly petting her hair when he noticed the way her chin shook and how her nose was soft pink, her cheeks and eyes red and slightly swollen.

„There, there. It's okay now.“ he couldn't hold back the soft coo at the end of the sentence, watching closely when she unzipped her jacket, taking it from her and hanging it up on a free hanger. Helping her step out of the untied boots, he placed them close to the heater so they would dry up.

Yoongi poked his head through the door to the living room, looking at the omega for a second. Left in a pair of loose fit pants and a oversized pink hoodie with white socks, standing close to Namjoon seemingly worried just as she was back in the mall.

„Let's go eat now. Is japchae okay kitty? Jin made you a plate already come on.” he watched as her eyes grew wider for a second, big and bright, still glossy with few tears. „It-It's okay al-pha..” she softly mumbled, slowly walking towards his outstretched hand. Once she was close enough, he took her own and softly squeezed before pulling her after him.

Namjoon went after them, noticing the footprints left by her. While he thought it was quite cute with how she pattered after his packmate like a little pup, the thought of her feet being wet and cold pushed his instincts once again.

Leading her through the big living room, and towards the right where a big table was, with already most of the pack members close by, preparing for the meal and helping around. Just as she entered the living room, all 4 heads shot up at her scent.

Jin was the first one to move, placing the glass carafe down on the table and wiping his hands quickly, before he made his way to their direction. While Yoongi was still softly pulling her along, she notably stiffened up and slowed down, pretty much stopping her movements if it weren't for Namjoon softly patting her back, encouraging her to move forward.

„Hi F/N, I'm Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin okay? How are you?” his soft gaze was kept on her as she shuffled in her spot, before answering in a quiet voice. „It's nice to m-meet you Jin... I'm we-ll, thank you..” avoiding his gaze, she let Yoongi once again pull her along towards the seat near the head of the table.

Jumping in, Hobi was quick to pull out her chair, helping her take a seat and softly ruffling her hair. „There you go.. do you like juice? We have um.. I think we have orange and apple, maybe even peach one. Would you like some?” Looking up at the bright, smily man the small girl unsurely nodded, turning her head towards the pack alpha for approval. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Smiling with his dimples showing, he nodded easily while he poured himself a glass of water.

Meanwhile Jungkook, already a step further, looked through the fridge. „Yea, we have a really tasty peach one, I think you would like that one,” he said as he pulled out the chilled glass bottle, opening it „it's from a farm that's at the outskirts of Seoul. Here, let me pour you a glass.”

„Look at the back for the ingredients, we should be careful with those.” Said Jimin while he pulled out clean cuttlery from a drawer. Omegas were known to be very sensitive in general with pretty much anything - food, sicknesses, air pressure and temperatures and noise and a lot more. A stomachache was not what they wanted to happen.

Turning the bottle and reading the ingredients, Jimin soon looked over his shoulder and too studied them. Once reading over the four -pure white peach extract, water, sugar and vitamin C, they deemed it safe enough, pouring the meek omega a tall glass.

Thanking and slightly bowing in her seat, she took a small sip, and once her expression seemed a bit lighter and satisfied with the taste, the youngest alpha sighed out, patting her head. Taking a seat opposite to her, next to Hobi, he started to serve himself a plate of japchae.

The omega's plate was already filled long ago by the pack alpha, who handed her his cuttlery, getting himself a different set when he noticed she didn't have any at her place.

Just as she was going to dig in after another approval nod, with Yoongi on her left side, she heard another pair of footsteps. Another man, with slightly damp hair entered the living room, pulling out another chair and taking a seat with his eyes still slightly closed, only to have them shot open suddenly, focused on her.

„Why is the omega crying?”

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚✧˚ · .*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Next:

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Between the pages

AN: Shoutout to Indigo for violently thrusting me back into my Namjoon feelings. This has been a long time in the making.

Synopsis: If anyone asks, Professor Kim is definitely not crushing on the pretty librarian he spends all of his free time with on campus.

Heads up: Kim Namjoon x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers, so much pining, Non-Idol AU, University professor! Namjoon, Librarian! Reader, Reader wears glasses and Namjoon thinks it's hot, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Reader kisses Namjoon without his explicit consent at first, dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Namjoon's fingers post fingering, praise kink (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex and creampie.

Word count: 4535

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

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Namjoon tries to convince himself that the reason a smile immediately graces his face when he enters his department's library is because of his love for knowledge. That's it. That's all.

It definitely has nothing to do with getting the opportunity to see and talk to the very attractive head librarian. Nope. Nothing of the sort.

"What's got you all smiley? Found a new favourite philosophy journal?"

Namjoon studiously ignores the way his heart stutters in his chest. He turns around to face you directly and is once again caught off-guard at how ridiculously attractive you manage to look in a simple pencil skirt and flowy blouse. Your glasses framing your warm eyes, and your glossed lips quirked upwards in amusement.

God, he had it so bad.

"Am I not allowed to simply smile for the sake of smiling?" He asks with a grin of his own, the two of you seamlessly falling into step as you make your way to your office where he was initially headed.

"Answering a question with a question is deflection, Professor Kim," you respond with a good-natured poke to his arm. He jokingly rubs the spot, "Violence and referring to me as Professor Kim? Y/n I thought we were friends. I'm hurt."

He doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes with that unfairly pretty smile on your face as you hold your office door open for him, "I never took you to be one for dramatics, Namjoon."

Namjoon feels little better than a schoolboy with his first crush. Warmth flooding his face at the way you say his name. He just hopes his body wouldn't hate him enough to make his blush obvious or, you'd give him the curtsey of not mentioning it.

"Clearly you don't know me all that well then, Miss y/l/n. Seems like all this hiding out in each others' offices might've been for nothing," he retorts, making himself comfortable on the lounge chair by the window you'd both unofficially agreed upon was his. He tries not to think too deeply about that.

Typically you'd join him by the window, but you opt to prop yourself up on your desk, and Namjoon's tongue turns to sand in his mouth. Your already figure-hugging skirt sits tighter on your hips and thighs somehow, even riding up enough for Namjoon to feel the need to take a generous sip from his trusted water bottle.

"Wow really? My surname? Now you're being petty, Joon," you say before taking your first bite of your lunch.

It had become a habit for the two of you to meet for lunch whenever possible. Usually alternating between offices or whoever was closer to the other's side of the campus on a particular day. Namjoon thinks it's partly during these lunch sessions that the seeds of his feelings for you were planted. Though he hasn't quite decided how to unpack that can of worms yet, he wouldn't trade these moments with you for the world.

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Namjoon can't stand these end of year functions, but he attends because he knows it'd be a terrible look if he didn't. He does have other people in the department he's friendly with, but they definitely don't outweigh how tedious these functions can be.

He's standing somewhat awkwardly in the back of the room nursing a glass of juice (because of fucking course they wouldn't be serving any alcohol) when he first spots you. Namjoon knows you're beautiful. It's a fact that he's violently reminded of every time he sees you. However, he's never seen you like this. He thought your pencil skirts were form-fitting, but the way the red dress you're wearing now cups your ass and hugs your hips has the blood rushing to his dick at record-breaking speed. He's never seen so much of you at once, a hint of cleavage peaking out and the dress coming to a stop mid-thigh. To make it all worse (or better, depending on one's perspective), you're still wearing your glasses.

Namjoon is just happy he hasn't spontaneously combusted yet, honestly.

The bright smile that spreads across your face when you spot him and make your way over to him makes him feel more nervous than he has in ages. Which is saying something considering how tongue-tied he gets around you in general.

"Joon, thank god. I'm so happy you're here. These functions are always so boring," you say as you pull him into a hug. Instinctively, he wraps an arm around you, his body moving before his brain can fully process you pressed against him and your perfume invading his senses. God, you smell delicious.

"I'm glad to see you too. Yeah, I've been entertaining myself with a glass of juice for the past 30ish minutes. Having the time of my life," he responds sarcastically but makes sure he's not loud enough for anyone to hear him other than you. These functions may suck, but Namjoon has no desire to sour his relationships with his colleagues.

The mischievous smile that graces your face makes his palms sweat, "Want to get out of here? I have a bottle of wine I've been saving in my office."

"Wine in your office? That's pretty unprofessional of you, Miss Librarian," he responds with a grin.

"Well, I've been keeping it for a time like this. Unless you're content to sip on juice all night and make small talk about semester plans," you retort, mirth twinkling in your eyes.

"It has been almost 2 hours, so it wouldn't be a bad look if we excused ourselves now..." he reasons, and honestly he could use a drink right now.

"Glad to see you're on board. You're always so serious and responsible, I'm a little surprised you agreed," you say with a small snort, grabbing his arm and steering him towards the door.

You two say goodnight to everyone who crosses your path, and Namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes at the grins and thumbs ups that Hoseok and Seokjin give him.

"I'm not that uptight," he argues a little defensively when you two are finally by yourselves.

"There's nothing wrong with being responsible. It's a big reason why I think you're such a loved and respected professor. I just think you could stand to let go sometimes," you say and, Namjoon's heart is trying its best to beat out of his chest.

You think he's loved and respected? You think he's a good professor?

He knows he doesn't need your validation, but it means the world to him all the same. The genuine sincerity and concern in your voice making it challenging for him to find his words.

"I plan to let go a little tonight. I think you're a bad influence," he jokes, playfully shoving you with his arm.

"I'm a fantastic influence. That's why you spend so much time with me," you retort with another one of those cute, amused snorts. Unlocking the door to the library when you two arrive quicker than Namjoon expected.

"I spend so much time with you because Hoseok's unending optimism and positivity drains my energy," he fires back, closing the door behind him once you enter the library before him.

"Hoseok's a sweetheart. You're just grumpy and overly jaded," you respond, leading the way to your office.

He tries not to feel too jealous hearing you refer to Hoseok as a sweetheart. You're not wrong. It's fair to refer to him as such, but it's still not exactly pleasant to hear.

"Me? Grumpy? Overly jaded? I'm delightful!" He says in mock offence, settling himself in his chair and watching you pull out the bottle of wine and two coffee mugs. Biting back a groan when he takes in how amazingly your dress hugs your ass.

"I never said you weren't delightful. I wouldn't be offering my treasured wine stash to you if I didn't at the bare minimum like you," you argue with a light laugh as you fill up your respective mugs.

"You just used the wine to bribe me to sneak out with you. I'm flattered nonetheless," he says with a laugh of his own, graciously accepting the generously filled mug you offer. He's severely unprepared for you to take a seat on the arm of his chair, your thigh brushing against him as you get comfortable.

Namjoon is starting to think this isn't a smart idea after all.

"Have you spending time with Seokjin? Is that why you've been so theatrical lately?" You ask with a smile before taking a generous sip from your mug, your pleased hum affecting him more than it had any right to.

"I'm just seeing this for what it is," he says, taking a swing from his own mug. Sweet. Seems like you enjoy your rosé. He makes a note of that for any future gifts.

"Sure, Joon," you respond, patting his shoulder. Taking another sip from your glass, licking your lips to chase the remnants of the wine. The wine is only worsening the hazy sensation he feels seeing the action and the slight smudging of your lipstick.

"Your lipstick looks nice," he spits out and immediately cringes at himself. Resisting the urge to rest his face in his hands as warmth floods his face. What the fuck was wrong with him? Surely it wasn't the singular sip of wine he took.

"Oh," you say, sounding surprised, "Thank you. You know I'm not one for make-up, but I thought why not since it's a special occasion. I'm glad you like it. I didn't take you for one to notice," you finish, playfully nudging his arm with your thigh.

Namjoon takes a generous sip of his wine before responding.

"I always notice these kinds of things when it comes to you and, you look pretty," he says before panicking at the implications of his words, "Not that you don't look pretty without the lipstick. You look pretty all the time. It's just-"

"I got it, Joon," you laugh, taking a drink from your own mug, and Namjoon definitely doesn't notice how appealing your neck looks. He needs to get his shit together. He's too old to be this flustered talking to a pretty woman. Well, you're more than just that, but that's besides the point.

"I'm flattered that you think I'm pretty. I didn't know you thought of me that way," you say so quietly that Namjoon has to strain to hear you. You look almost...shy? Completely unlike the sarcastic, confident woman he's become familiar with. It's cute. You're cute.

"I think you're beautiful honestly but, it's not exactly like I can just drop it in casual conversation," he says, surprised by his own confidence but, he's already called you pretty. What more does he have to lose?

"Kim Namjoon, are you flirting with me?" You ask with a smile behind your mug, but he can still see what he thinks is shyness in your expression.

"Is it so bad to flirt with the prettiest librarian on campus?" He asks, taking satisfaction in the stunned look on your face, your lips parting as you sit there just staring at him.

He watches you flounder with your words, a very private part of him enjoying being the one to fluster you for once.

"You think I'm the prettiest librarian on campus?" You ask quietly, as if you can't quite believe what's he saying to you right now. In your defence, he can't quite believe what he's saying to you right now either. He has the feeling that he's reached a crossroads now. Whatever he says to you now might change the nature of your relationship entirely, and Namjoon is tired of being a coward.

"I think you're the prettiest librarian I've ever met," he says with so much seriousness that there's no possible way you could misunderstand his words for lighthearted bantering. His heart bouncing off the walls of his chest as he waits for you to say something. Anything.

"Namjoon," is all you seem to muster at the moment, wide eyes still locked on him.

"You don't have to reciprocate my feelings, y/n. I've liked you for some time now, but I'd never put my feelings before yours and before this friendship. You mean too much for me to do that. I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable -" you promptly shut Namjoon up by cupping his face and pressing a searing kiss to his lips.

Well, it seems like it's his turn to be stunned.

His eyes widen as you seemingly pour everything you have into his kiss, your hold on his face tightening momentarily before you pull away. All Namjoon can do is stare at you. Looking unfairly attractive as you struggle to catch your breath and your glasses look slightly askew.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just kissed you. I just-I couldn't find the words to tell you that I like you too in the moment. I'm sorry," you say in a single breath, and Namjoon has to strain to catch all of your words. However, panic hits him when your words do finally register.

"No, hey, it's okay. I was just surprised, is all. It's not every day the woman of your dreams kisses you. Give a guy a minute to recover," he jokes, reaching for your smaller hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Your hand squeezes his back, and frankly, Namjoon is just impressed that he's managed to remain conscious through this all.

"Woman of your dreams? Namjoon, please," you whine somewhat embarrassed, and that just endears you to him more.

"It's true," he says and means ever word of it.

"If you keep looking at me like that and speaking like that, I might just have to kiss you again," you respond playfully, resting your mug on the small coffee table.

"Is that a promise?" He fires back with a grin of his own, following suit.

"You're so annoying," you retort with an affectionate eye roll before you press your lips against his once more. This time, he's better prepared and more than ready to reciprocate. One of his hands tentatively resting on your thigh as angle yourself better to deepen the kiss. The feeling of your tongue against his own sending sparks down his spine. Arousal pooling in his gut, fed by all the little moans and whimpers you let out.

"Is this okay?" You ask breathlessly when you straddle him, your chair barely big enough to fit the two of you, but Namjoon isn't going to complain any time soon. Your soft thighs press against his and he's almost completely certain that your panty covered pussy is pressing against him.

"Yeah," his brain pulls itself together enough to spit out before weaving his fingers into your hair and, tugging you down for another earth-shattering kiss. Months' worth of desire and frustration pouring out of him. His other hand tentatively holding your hip in place all while he hopes his erection isn't too obvious to you.

He can tell the moment you feel it because you still against him momentarily. "Shit, I'm sorry. We don't have to do anything you don't want. It's just a natural reaction-"

"Joon, breathe. It's okay," you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I want this. I'm just as excited as you are," you breathe, taking his much bigger hand in yours and guiding it up your ridiculously soft thighs. A quiet moan falling from your lips when his fingertips make contact with your wet panties.

Namjoon wonders what heroic acts he committed in his past lives to find himself here.

"You're already so wet," he breathes, fingers lightly running along your slit. Lidded eyes taking in the way your lips part to let out moans and your hips buck into his touch. Your fingernails digging into his shoulder when he's certain he's found your clit and uses that information to his advantage.

"You don't have to ah say that out loud, y'know," you respond, but any sarcasm that would typically be present in your voice is replaced by breathy whimpers. Namjoon thinks he much prefers them. As much as your quick-wit is one of his favourite aspects of your personality, he's finding that he immensely enjoys rendering you speechless.

"Why not, baby? You are so wet for me already, though. I could always stop," he trails off, stopping the movement of his fingers and keeping them pressed against you. A smirk spreading across his face when you whine and squirm in his lap.

"You're being mean," and fuck if the desperate edge to your voice doesn't shoot straight to his dick. Deciding to be merciful this time around, his fingers continue rubbing over your wet slit over your panties. Kissing along your jaw and neck as you whimper and grind against him in search of friction.

"Joon, please. Touch me di-directly," you hiccup, pressing yourself firmly against his fingers. Your nails digging into his shoulders. He had no idea you'd be so needy and desperate. He briefly wonders if you're always like this or if this is all because of him. His self-esteem certainly hopes it's the latter.

"You're so cute when you're needy," he rumbles against your throat, canines brushing the skin there while his fingers push your panties to the side. He thinks he'll remember the strangled gasp that flies from your lips when his fingers make contact with your clit as long as he lives.

He knew you were wet before, but he's severely unprepared for the effect feeling said wetness for himself has on him. His cock already leaking pre-cum where it rests untouched underneath you. Teasing you is a double-edged sword. You're not the only one becoming desperate here.

"Namjoon," you whine, "Please, please let me feel your fingers. It hurts. Please-" your begging is cut off by a sharp moan when he finally concedes and pushes two fingers inside of you. How can he say no when you sound so beautiful for him? He's just a man.

He tugs you into another messy kiss while he fucks you on his fingers to distract himself. He feels like he'll lose his mind soon if he doesn't feel you around his cock soon. Groaning into your mouth at how harshly your velvety walls grip his fingers as he familiarises himself with the spots that make you moan louder and hold onto him tighter.

The whimper you press against his lips when his thumb finds your clit and rubs slow circles against it is immaculate. In the dead of night when he'd fantasised about having you like this, he hadn't considered how sensitive and pliant you are. Reality is significantly better than any of his dreams.

"Joo-Joon, I- ah I'm," you whine out, your glasses slightly skewed and foggy on your face while you ride his fingers and chase your release. Namjoon doesn't think he's seen anything more erotic in his entire life.

"Are you going to cum for me?" The gruff edge to his voice or perhaps the question seems to do it for you because before he knows it you're holding onto to him for dear life and he has to slot his mouth over yours to silence your suddenly sharp cries. His cock pulsing as he feels your walls hold onto his fingers so tightly that he can barely move them anymore and, your wetness drips down his palm.

"That's a good girl. You did so well for me," he says, kissing your neck and shoulder softly as he waits for you to come back to him. He takes notice of the way your walls momentarily clench from what he assumes is the praise. Well. He'd happily give you all the praise you wanted.

"You're ridiculously good with your fingers," you mutter, cupping his face and kissing him as though you have all the time in the world. Something dangerously close to love for you swells in him from the affection you pour into the kiss. You rest your forehead against his when you pull away, a small smile playing on your bruised lips.

"Thank you," is all his brain can come with right now with his fingers still nestled inside of you and being harder than he ever has been in his entire life.

"Would it be okay if I sucked you off?"

You're trying to kill him. This is what this is. An elaborate plot to end his life in an instant.

His cock very much likes the sound of that, however.

"You don't have to do that,"

"I know. I want to,"

He closes his eyes and tries to gain his bearings for a few seconds.

"Maybe next time. I don't want to cum in your mouth right now,"

The pout on your lips is surprising and unfairly attractive, "Why not?"

You really were going to make him spell it out for you, aren't you?

"I'd rather cum while I'm inside of you,"

His jaw clenches when he feels your walls clamp down on his fingers once more, a barely there whimper falling from your lips, "Kim Namjoon, you're going to be the death of me."

Funny you should say that because the feeling is mutual.

He does laugh at that. Pressing a kiss against your cheek, "And you think I'm dramatic. We can just stop here if you don't want to. Plus, I don't have any condoms on hand. I wasn't exactly...anticipating all of this."

"What in the world would make you think I'd want to stop now?" You ask, sounding genuinely baffled, "And on the topic of birth control, I'm on the pill."

His eyes close then, and he can't bite back a groan. You would really let him fuck you raw? He's not sure if you're insane for suggesting it or if he's insane for seriously considering it.

"If you're not comfortable with that we can just stop here. I'm not in a rush," you reassure him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple and it's then that Namjoon thinks he may lose his mind if he doesn't have you right now.

Without a word, he pulls you into another earth titling kiss, grinning against your mouth when you grip his fingers like a vice when he tugs on your hair and nips your lip. "You really don't know what you do to me," he breathes, easing his fingers out of you and chuckling darkly at the way you whimper from the loss. He might be pushing his luck here, but "Open."

He watches through lidded eyes as you eagerly suck on his fingers coated in your wetness. Your lashes fluttering behind your glasses and, your soaked slit grinding down on him in search of some sort of friction. "Such a good girl," he praises, kissing you while his hands fumble with his belt and the buttons of his pants. Relief coursing through him when manages to finally free himself. His cock slapping against his shirt covered stomach unceremoniously.

Your reaction to seeing him does fantastic things for his ego.

"You're...bigger than I anticipated," you breathe out, your eyes laser focused on his dick while your hands absentmindedly tug on his hair. "You thought about my dick? I'm flattered," he says with a smirk likely a touch too smug but, he can't help it. It's not every day the woman of your dreams casually mentions that she's fantasised about you and you have her spread out across your lap.

"I've thought about more than your dick but, it's featured in a fantasy or two," you laugh breathlessly, squirming in his lap.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer then,"

When you slowly start to sink down on him, Namjoon knows he's a goner. His hands grip your soft hips for dear life as your warm, wet walls gradually accommodate him inch by inch. He's not sure where he wants to look more. Your pretty pussy stretching around him or the blissed out look on your beautiful face right now.

His hand impatiently tugs your dress down and he takes a hard nipple in his mouth both to distract you from the discomfort and, for the simple want to. His head spins when your pussy clenches around him at the contact. Needy hands tugging on his hair while you moan from the sensations.

"Nam-Namjoon," you moan out so brokenly and, he's pretty sure he's never heard a more beautiful sound. He might be inlove with you actually but, he shoves that thought aside as soon as it arises.

He grits his teeth when you slowly rise up and sink back down on him again, your nails biting into him as you try your best to establish a steady rhythm. "You're so beautiful," he groans as he watches you bounce on his cock. He  didn't intend for that thought to slip out but, he doesn't regret in the slightest when he watches your eyelids flutter and your pussy tightens around him.

You can't even coherently respond to him. Too lost in your own pleasure and the feeling of his cock to string together a sentence at the moment. Not that Namjoon can really blame you. Your walls are like a vice around him, and he feels his release approaching dangerously quickly. There's no way he's going to cum without atleast getting you to cum for him one more time.

One of his hands tugs on your hair to pull you down for another heated kiss. All teeth and tongue and spit. While the other reaches between your thighs, the corners of his mouth ticking up when you gasp against him as his fingers draw quick circles on your clit. Thankfully, he's a fast learner.

He nearly bites down on your lip when you cum. Velvety walls clenching and spasming around him while you cling onto him for purchase. I mean, is it really a shock that it doesn't take much more than that for him to follow suit?

Groans and stuttered curses leaving his lips when pulses inside of you. The symphony of your sounds of pleasure and heavy breathing all that can be heard as he fills you. Holding you to him while he rides out his intense release. He doesn't think he's ever cum this hard in his entire life. Guess that's what happens when you cum inside the love of your life.

Pushing that insane thought aside once more, he loosens his hold on you when he regains feeling in his body. The sticky combination of your releases dribbling out of you and down his groin but, he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

"Usually, people go on dates first, no?" You ask still sounding breathlessly but, he can hear the smile in your tone.

"Mmm yeah, usually they do but, I don't think there's anything wrong with doing things a little out of order,"

"You're not wrong. I hope you know this is my roundabout way of asking you out,"

The laugh that forces itself out of him is hearty and more carefree than he's felt in a concerningly long time.

"I'd love to go out with you, y/n."

[ugh-yoongi]

by the time i've figured out what it's worth | myg

(or, sometimes you go through hell, and sometimes you make it to the other side.)

✤ PAIRING musician!yoongi x f. reader ✤ SUMMARY you used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs. the shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. all those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and yoongi’s got one foot out the door. ✤ GENRE est. relationship, marriage au | angst, smut, fluff ✤ RATING explicit. minors dni. ✤ WARNINGS this fic deals with a lot of unhappy topics: mental health, self-worth, divorce, the general demise of a relationship & marriage, counseling & therapy—therefore, there are moments of heavy-ish angst. there are moments where this couple is not all that nice to each other. there are arguments and resolutions. so, it's heavy but they get through it (aka there is a happy ending). american setting, yoongi is a solo artist, everyone pls pray for marriage counselor kim namjoon, seokjin is once again the fic's mvp, swearing, alcohol, recreational drug use (weed/edibles), one quick reference to c*vid, emotional hurt/comfort, miscommunication, two knuckleheads engaging in knucklehead behavior, lots of repetition and space metaphors. this is basically "what would happen if yoongi wrote tiny vessels about his wife: the fic," so do with that what you will. ✤ SMUT WARNINGS oral sex (both receiving), fingering, very slight dom yoongi, dirty talk, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, angst and crying during sex, hands on throat but no choking, fingers in mouth bc it's me. i think that's it. the smut is mostly tame. ✤ WORDCOUNT 20k ✤ LISTEN TO all of transatlanticism by death cab for cutie, especially "tiny vessels." all the lyrics used throughout the fic are from this album, so it'd help contextualize a lot! also "monday morning," "stay young go dancing," and "you are a tourist." ✤ WRITTEN FOR the composition of the century collab. thank you to isi (@raplinesmoon), ryen (@kithtaehyung), and mars (@joheunsaram) for letting me participate. ♡ ✤ THANK YOU to jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) and bee (@hot-soop) for being my betas. this was a labor of love and a big ask, so i appreciate the both of you very much. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi! thank you for checking out my fic. before you read, i just want to overemphasize that this is a pretty angsty piece at times. a lot of it is very personal, and therefore i understand if it's not your cup of tea! if you do read it, i hope you enjoy it and find something human here. relationships are messy because humans are messy, and sometimes both the easiest and most difficult thing you can ever do is love another person.

so this is the new year, and i have no resolutions / or self-assigned penance for problems with easy solutions.

There’s a woman on the television trying to sell you a recliner.

Yoongi isn’t paying attention. He’d downed two glasses of whiskey and said he had something to work on, and he’s here, just like you’d asked, but the distance between the two of you feels insurmountable. Your ninth New Year’s Eve together, and all you’ve got to show for it is a crumbling foundation, a pair of headphones shoved over his ears, a woman on the television trying to sell you a recliner. Some home shopping channel, because you couldn’t bear to see anyone else having a good time. Selfish. Fucking selfish, and you wonder if Yoongi would be on your end of the couch if you weren’t.

What does it matter. You’d be here either way, because you’ve made peace with knowing there are things that are built to last and things like what you and Yoongi have: things that make you hesitant, things that make you yearn, things that sit in your stomach all wrong, taste caustic on your tongue.

It’s logical, then, that you just need something to do. A distraction. You push yourself up from the couch with a sigh, joints cracking, and you feel old. Exhausted, more like; something bone-deep and not easily cured. You pass through the dining room on the way to the kitchen, and all those wedding photos taunt you. Happier times, the two of you smiling into a kiss, Yoongi’s hands on your waist, fingers tangled in chiffon.

You wonder which one of you will stay here after it all goes to shit.

Him, if you were a betting man.

You scrub at the dishes in the sink until your hands are nearly cracked from the scalding water. Yellow gloves sit unused on the counter—sometimes you want the burn because pain is familiar, and a physical pain is easier to solve than your failing marriage. So you scrub away the remnants of a dinner that found you and Yoongi eating in silence. Nothing to say to one another after another year gone by. Not much to look back on fondly. And then you scrub some more, like you could get rid of all the scabs inside of you just as easily.

Some things circle the drain and wash away. Others stain.

You already know which one Yoongi is.

From the living room, the muted sounds of a countdown. Palpable excitement you should be able to feel, but find only numbness instead. Yoongi must have changed the channel. There’s a supercut playing in your head, all the past celebrations. All the parties the two of you have gone to, the years spent alone but together. All the people you’ve kissed in front of. All the quiet, private ways Yoongi used to tell you he loved you. When was the last time? What does it matter. There’s seven seconds until the new year and Yoongi hasn’t come looking for you, so what does it fucking matter.

Fireworks explode outside. A sob wracks your body as you crumble to the floor. There’s a small puddle of dishwater that seeps into the hemline of your shirt. Yoongi hasn’t come looking for you and he can’t hear you, so there’s no one to witness your breakdown but the fucking dishes in the sink. Yoongi had chosen the countertops.

You’re going to miss this place when it’s no longer your home.

instincts are misleading / you shouldn't think what you're feeling / they don't tell you what you know you should want.

Kim Namjoon wouldn’t have been your first choice, if you’d had the luxury of choice.

You like him enough, though. Wicked smart, patient to a fault, pragmatic when it’s required. There’s not much more you could ask for in a marriage counselor besides not needing one at all, but that hadn’t been in the cards. The first time you and Yoongi had met him, you’d cracked a joke that hadn’t landed. The embarrassment of it still stings, made worse by the discomfort of the couch in his office.

“How are things?” he asks. He always dresses impeccably. Today he’s in a sage green sweater and tan trousers that must’ve cost a fortune to get tailored. Even his notebook is genuine leather; sometimes it squeaks when he jots down notes too fast, friction against the fabric of his clothing.

Yoongi is quiet. If you’re embarrassed over a joke, he’s embarrassed over everything else. At least you’re willing to work on things. Getting Yoongi to do anything these days is akin to pulling teeth, and you’ve got a mouth full of blood. “Fine,” Yoongi answers, eyes locked downward. Namjoon’s office has hardwood floors. Tigerwood, he’d said once. Yoongi had complimented them. That had stung, too.

Wicked smart. Namjoon turns to you, glasses slipping a little down his nose. “Would you agree with that?”

You wouldn’t, but the urge to make this easy on Yoongi is hard to fight off. Everything is hard. It’d taken him twenty minutes past midnight to come find you in the kitchen all those weeks ago, chest still heaving, eyes swollen. He’d been distraught, tried to kiss your tears away, apologized over and over like they were the only words he knew. Things aren’t fine, but at least you’ve been willing to fight, and the cost of that persistence feels like the weight of the world.

“No,” you admit, and Namjoon just nods. Writes something down. You don’t have the courage to look at Yoongi. Sometimes it’s easier to let go of a dying thing.

“Okay. How were the holidays?”

It’s hard to breathe around the lump in your throat. All you want to do is hold Yoongi’s hand, scream at him, shake him and ask why he’s doing this to you. Why he’s giving up. Why you aren’t worth more effort—not worth it anymore, when you used to be. If he doesn’t love you anymore you’ve already said you’ll go, and he begs you not to, says he’ll do better, he’s sorry, please don’t.

“They were hard,” you answer, and Yoongi nods his agreement in your peripheral. “We didn’t exchange gifts this year. First time ever.”

“And why is that?”

Yoongi stays quiet. Like pulling teeth, you think, and there’s a flashbang of anger, resentment. Sometimes you want to hurt him. Sometimes you want to make him feel as awful as you do, want him to suffer, want him to atone. It isn’t fair, the things you think, and all you want to do is love your husband without guilt, without wondering if there’s someone out there who’d appreciate it more. Still, you’ve got a nasty streak, and you can’t help but press on the bruise. “Because I knew I’d be the only one.”

“Can you expand on that?”

You shrug. Pick at invisible dirt beneath your nails. “Yoongi said he’d be busy this year. I know what that means.”

“That’s not—” Yoongi sighs, cuts himself off. Runs his hands over his face, sick of this same argument. “Baby, that isn’t fair. I asked you if you wanted to do gifts this year and you said no.”

The laugh that bubbles out of you is derisive, cruel. You’re sick of the same arguments, too. Sick of feeling stuck, some helpless animal in a glue trap. Sick of this office, with Namjoon’s priceless art that doesn’t mean a fucking thing to you; the tigerwood floors that got nicer words out of Yoongi than you have in months; the low thrum of the baseboard heat. Sick of asking Yoongi what you can do, what you can change to make this work, and getting nothing besides a self-deprecating sigh.

Yoongi loves you. Doesn’t want to hurt you. Doesn’t want you to put those kinds of burdens on your shoulders, but taking on all that water himself does nothing but make the both of you sink.

He’ll write about it, though. That’s the thing. Yoongi will write about it, and it used to bring you comfort—listening to those old songs, an aural timeline of your and Yoongi’s relationship. The shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. All those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and Yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

“Because I listened to the song,” you say, and it should feel relieving, should alleviate some of that weight you’ve been carrying around. Instead, you just feel guilty, confessing to some cardinal sin. Yoongi goes stock-still, doesn’t dare to breathe, spine straighter than it’s been in years, and all you feel is guilt.

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow. “The song?”

this is the moment that you know that you told her that you loved her, but you don't / you touch her skin and then you think that she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

“It wasn’t meant to be about you,” Yoongi says, and his words are pleading, like if he uses the right inflections he can get you to understand. “It was just—shit, I don’t know, I just. I was just writing. I needed to do something with the way I was feeling.” His words take on more panic the longer you’re quiet, and by the end there’s a dazed look in his eyes. They’re taking on water, too. “Baby, please. Did you really think—”

This isn’t the kind of argument meant for an audience, and you’d said as much in therapy. Told Namjoon you’d like to discuss it with Yoongi in private and maybe you could all hash it out during your next session, because you knew this would happen. Knew you’d break down, knew you’d be embarrassed. How do you say your husband wrote a song about not loving you anymore and make it out still feeling whole? How do you swallow all that anger and remember all that bullshit Namjoon had taught you about how to communicate? Your stupid fucking “I” statements.

“Silver Lake?” you retort, resentment burning in your veins. “That wasn’t supposed to be about me? What, are you fucking someone else out there?”

Your husband looks like you’ve slapped him, and sometimes you want to. Sometimes you want to opt out of this life—where they’re just words to Yoongi, but a little too biographical to you. Because you’re not the only one who listens. Yoongi writes these songs and people listen to them and they think, isn’t he married. They think, did he really write a song like this about his wife. They think, that’s a little fucked up. Because they’re just words to Yoongi, and the rest of the world doesn’t know. They’re not in on the joke, and neither are you.

There are few words you can use to explain your hurt. How you’ve sat with that song these past few weeks, scouring each line for something to tell you it hurts now, but it’s going to be okay. Always coming up empty. Those lines you’ve fixated on, refused to let go of—

So when you ask, "Is something wrong?" I think, "You're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now.”

—because that’s how it is, how it goes.

“This is my fucking life, Yoongi.” There’s only heat where there used to be patience. “You write these songs and you don’t spare a single thought for how they might affect me. You write these songs instead of talking to me, and I’m supposed to know how to fix everything, right? Aren’t I? You can’t even tell me how to fix this fucking marriage, but you’ll write a song about how I don’t mean a goddamn thing to you.”

There are tears rolling down your face. You hadn’t realized you started crying, but everything feels wet, feels wrong. Feels like you’re occupying a body that isn’t yours. You’re having this argument in someone else’s bedroom. You’re watching someone else’s marriage fall apart. Someone else’s life. “Either help me fix this and put in the work or let me go.” Everything boils over eventually. There’s only so much you can stave off before the inevitable, and now it’s come for you. “Please.” You choke on a sob. “Yoongi, please, I’m so tired.”

And Yoongi—Yoongi’s got a lot of nervous habits. Little things he does when the anxiety gets to be too much, and there’s one you share, one of those couple things where you pick up one another’s mannerisms, ways of speaking, specific inflections. Yoongi fidgets with his wedding band, pushes it up to that knobby fourth knuckle with his thumb, twirls it around.

Usually, when he pushes it far enough, there’s a strip of even paler skin. A place the sun hasn’t touched; a place that bears proof that Yoongi is yours. Yoongi pushes his wedding band with his thumb and that strip of skin matches the rest, and it strikes someplace deep that’s irrational and unfair. Because it makes sense that there isn’t a discrepancy, that everything is uniform. It makes sense, but everything is so fragile that the thought comes unbidden. Maybe there’s no discrepancy because Yoongi isn’t wearing it. Maybe there’s no discrepancy because Yoongi has let go without letting go, and there’s nothing to salvage, no point in begging, in putting the gun in his hand and forcing him to make the decision. It all tastes sour, tastes like your tongue has crumbled to ash, but—

“I’m not letting you go,” Yoongi responds, words just as waterlogged as yours. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“But you want to,” you say, and it sounds like a conclusion but you mean it like a question. A plea. Perhaps that’s the crux of it: you just can’t say what you mean. Sometimes Yoongi’s honesty feels like a brand, a permanent reminder of everything he’s ever felt that you’re forced to carry, but at least there’s honor in that. At least Yoongi doesn’t talk in fucking riddles.

He shakes his head. “No.” At least there’s conviction in his words. “No, I don’t. This is just—it’s hard right now, okay. It’s hard and it fucking sucks, and I don’t know why, but I’m not—” He sucks in a breath. Sometimes Yoongi can’t say what he means, either.

“Just say it, Yoongi.” So, you prod. Sometimes you find the most mottled bruise on his body and you press on it, because when you love someone the way you love Yoongi, you also know all the ways to hurt them. Sometimes you hurt Yoongi when you mean to hurt yourself because it feels the same.

“What do you want me to say,” he answers, defeated and raw. “Tell me what you want me to say, because if I didn’t know better, it’d sound like you wanted me to leave. It sounds like you want that but you want me to be the bad guy. You want me to pull the trigger.”

You don’t. You know that for certain, just by the way it feels excruciating to merely think about. What would your life even look like without Yoongi? What would it be? But you’re still that caged animal. Still resentful of Yoongi’s composure, because you can fall apart at a moment’s notice and Yoongi is always calm, prepared; always the last building standing in a hurricane.

“I don’t want that,” you say, borrowing a bit of your husband’s honesty, his fortitude, “but I need you to know that’s where we’re at. I need you to be able to say it, instead of treating it like it’s some impossible thing—“

“It is,” Yoongi argues, brows pinched, lips pouted. “Baby, what are you saying? It is. Why wouldn’t it be? That’s what you want?”

“You don’t write songs like you did about someone you’re not planning on leaving, Yoongi. I don’t know how you don’t understand that. I don’t—how can you think it’s impossible? You think I’ve just been doing all of this for fun? The therapy, the crying? You think I haven’t already—” Mourned the end of my marriage, you want to say, but you can’t. You need to be realistic. You need to say what you mean, and even if it’s true—even if you’ve mentally divided up everything in this house, thehouse itself—it doesn’t do you any good to create new wounds when both of you are already beaten and battered.

“You’re my fucking wife,” comes Yoongi’s response, and the way he says it feels dirty. Yoongi calls you his wife the way lesser men would use a slur, and sometimes Yoongi is composed but sometimes he’s angry. Sometimes he’s so angry the world becomes too small to contain him. “I’m not gonna—you’ve already what? Given up? Checked out? It’s not fair, this thing you do. Decide how things are gonna play out before they even happen. It’s fucking bullshit. You’re my fucking wife, and the least you could do is give me a little credit—”

“Oh, that’s rich.”

Yoongi’s pupils blow wide. Sometimes you think they’re the darkest thing in the universe. Vantablack. “Yeah, it is. It is fucking rich.”

“At least I’m trying! At least I’m doing something, not just writing little fucking songs about how much I don’t care about you.”

Yoongi slams the door behind him.

For the first time, you wonder if he’s coming back.

i am waiting for that sense of relief / i am waiting for you to flee the scene / as if you held in your hand the smoking gun / and on the floor lay the one you said you loved.

You feel him before you hear him, and he doesn’t wake you up.

It’s dark. Probably sometime between one and two, judging by the pillar of moonlight creeping in through the curtains. Yoongi is quiet as he moves around the bedroom, still so considerate even now, and you just watch. Jeans removed one leg at a time, hung neatly in the closet; socks removed one by one, into the hamper; flannel unbuttoned with calloused fingers, dropped on the floor. He’ll pick it up tomorrow, just like he always does. Down to just a t-shirt, neckline loose and stretched from overwear, and black briefs.

Moonlight suits him, you think. (You’ve always thought.) Casts silver shadows on his skin, fills in the contours, lends credence to the thought that Yoongi is something ethereal, someone wasting his time on earth.

He’s down to a t-shirt and briefs, and he hesitates. Takes a step toward the bed and thinks better of it. Doesn’t know what to do in this liminal space, in this liminal period of time. There’s only two ways to go, and Yoongi will either leave or he’ll stay, and right now he doesn’t know which one it’s going to be.

“Yoongi,” you say, and you try to make the decision for him. “You’re home?”

You see him swallow, watch his shoulders slump. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s quiet like the nighttime. You’re in the middle of the city and this moment is so quiet. “I’m—did I wake you? I’m sorry, I just—”

“No,” you answer. You don’t want to fight. “You’re fine. Do you—are you coming to bed?”

He nods. Seems to fold in on himself just a little more. “Yeah. Yeah, just have to brush my teeth.”

There’s the padding of feet on hardwood. Something that sounds like a stubbed toe. A loud curse. The flick of the bathroom light, the faucet, spit. The padding of feet on hardwood, then the bedroom rug. The depression of the mattress, his phone plugged in and discarded carelessly on his nightstand. An exhale, like he’s finally home after a long day.

Does Yoongi still consider you his home?

“I’m sorry,” you say. Still quiet, just like the nighttime. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

You hear Yoongi swallow again. Smell just the faintest hint of alcohol. “No one’s fighting, baby,” he answers. Woven into his words is a softness you don’t deserve. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“Can we talk about it now?”

Yoongi suits the moonlight, but so do you. It makes you brave. Sometimes things are easier to say in these in-between spaces: love and heartbreak, midnight and morning. Sometimes the sun is too reflective, and sometimes it burns.

“Do you want to?” You nod, even though instinct tells you to shirk away and take it back. A small piece of honesty to work yourself up to something bigger, more consequential. “Okay.”

Sometimes you get what you want and aren’t sure what to do with it, so you roll onto your side, the one facing your husband, and suck in a breath. Hold it. Count to five. Let it go. Yoongi reserves all his patience for you, always. “I’m really scared, Yoongi.”

His sigh is fractured, watery. “Me too,” he admits. “There’s a lot I want to say and I just—I don’t know how. Which makes it worse, I know, and then I don’t know how to fix it.”

Is that why… “The song?”

Yoongi nods. “I needed to get it out. Like, some call of the void shit, you know? Put those big fears into words in a way that—it doesn’t make sense, looking back, because I thought it was just an outlet. Just, write this hypothetical song about the collapse of our relationship because it fucking terrified me and then let it go. Like how sometimes Namjoon tells us to write letters to each other and burn them.” He fists the duvet. Moonlight gleams off his wedding band. “I’m sorry. I need you to know it wasn’t real… like that.”

“Okay.”

“I—you were right. About the other thing. About me not being able to say it.”

“Can you now?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I don’t think I can. Makes it real.”

“You also can’t stand in a burning house and pretend it’s not on fire.”

That gets a laugh out of him. Sardonic, a little self-deprecating, but it’s there. “Is that where you’re at? With me.” He makes a sound that’s a lot like a whimper. “Divorce.”

“I don’t want to be,” you answer. Another small truth leading up to a bigger one. “I’m trying not to be.”

“But you are.”

Shakily, you nod. “Yeah, I am. Things just aren’t… they’re not working, even though I’m trying, and I just.” Yoongi’s hand finds yours. It’s sweat-slick and cold. “Sometimes I think it’d be the kind thing to do. Put us both out of our misery.”

“Relationship euthanasia.”

“Yeah, kind of. It’s funny, you know. My vet always used to say you’d know it’s time when there’s more bad days than good, so I guess that really is the best way to put it.”

“What would that even look like?”

You want to say you don’t know. That you haven’t thought about it. Is this the call of the void again or is this for real? But the twilight makes you honest, so you tell the truth. “I would leave,” you say. “I wouldn’t be able to stay here, and I couldn’t ask you to go. It’s always been more your space than mine.”

Yoongi hums an agreement. Not cruel, it just makes sense. “I’m not tied to this place,” you continue. “This city. This state. I’m not sure I’d be able to stay, knowing you’re still here in a house that used to be ours without me in it. But sometimes I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to leave, either.”

“You could,” Yoongi answers. When you look up, he’s crying. Cheeks streaked with tears, eyes swollen. “You can do anything, you know? You’re so much stronger than me. You could do the hard thing and be okay. It’s part of the reason I’ve been so scared to have this conversation. You might leave, and you’d be okay, and I wouldn’t.”

“Yoongi...”

“I know you’re tired,” he says, voice laying his own exhaustion bare, “but I want you to be happy. So I will—I’ll let you go, if it’s what you want.” He’s crying harder now, staccato sobs wracking his body, making him smaller. “I don’t want to,” he whispers. “I don’t think I can, but I will. For you. If it’s what you need. If it’ll make you happy.”

You can’t stand it. “Yoongi, no.” You’re on your haunches, wiping furiously at his cheeks, thumbing beneath his eyes. “Being apart from you would never make me happy.”

You’re in his lap. He’s still too anxious to reach out and touch, maybe still a little scorned, and his hands lay at his sides. Twist into the duvet again. You want them on you. You always want Yoongi on you. “Tell me how to fix this,” he begs. “Tell me and I’ll do it, I promise, baby, please just tell me. I can’t—I don’t want to—”

“Yoongi.” He looks up, meets your eye. Moonlight suits him. “Something has to change, and you know that as well as I do. We can’t keep going like this, but just—just meet me in the middle, okay? Help me. Let’s start there.”

“Okay,” comes his automatic response. He’d agree to anything right now. Take any lifeline. And then the words sink in, and the sobs taper off but he’s still got the shakes, so you hold him. Wrap him in your arms and just let him breathe. “Okay,” he repeats. Measured. Considered.

Still standing, even after a hurricane.

i need you so much closer, so come on.

Morning comes, and with it—tenderness.

Also the mug of coffee on your nightstand, Yoongi’s hand splayed on the swell of your hip, the warmth that seeps into your skin. He’s typing away on his phone with the other, and he abandons it to pull you closer when you stir.

“Morning,” you murmur. Yoongi’s reply rumbles against your back.

“S’the afternoon, baby.”

Your laugh is abrupt, soft. Dissipates into the air as quickly as it’d arrived. “Okay. Good afternoon, then.”

Yoongi shuffles closer, adjusts so he’s pressed fully against your back. The hand that was on your hip moves beneath the hemline of your shirt. Explores the soft skin of your stomach, thumbs at the valleys between each rib. Yoongi’s touch is always laced with soft confidence; now, he still knows the way, still has the map memorized, but he’s reluctant.

You place your hand over his, move it higher. His thumb grazes the bottom swell of your breast and he sighs, presses impossibly closer still. “I love you,” he says quietly, like a secret. “Want you to know that.”

“I do,” you answer. He sighs again at your affirmation—more of an exhale, all relief—and drops his head to the crook of your neck. Presses a kiss there. The heat of him is almost disorienting, especially after being deprived of it for so long. “Haven’t been this close to you in months.”

He nips at your ear with his teeth. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and something stirs low in your belly. “Take a shower with me. I still smell like the bar.”

You snort. “Very sexy. Top tier dirty talk.”

He presses another kiss beneath your ear. “Please?”

“Let me drink some coffee first. I’m barely awake.” When you roll onto your side, Yoongi looks small, on the verge of dejection. Soft. You can’t help but smile. Can’t help but reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows, kiss away his pout. “I’ll be there, I promise. Give me five minutes.”

He wants to push it, you can tell, but he just says okay, baby. Presses one final kiss to your forehead before he’s gone, before the sound of bare feet on hardwood returns, before you hear the shower turn on, Yoongi’s low hum as he patters around and talks to himself.

You sit up and take stock. Your eyes are sore, head feels like it’s been split in two, but your heart feels… lighter. Scabbed over. Another battle fought and won, and even though the war isn’t over, you feel cautiously optimistic. Better than you have in a while, and you’re smiling when you press the coffee mug to your lips. Still warm, so Yoongi hasn’t been awake much longer than you. You wonder how many cups he’s already had, if he drank them black.

Half your cup is gone before Yoongi starts yelling from the en suite, complaining loudly that he’s cold and lonely, to hurry up. That he’s going to use all the hot water out of spite, but what if it gets too hot, what if he perishes in here and you have to live the rest of your life overcome with guilt. If it’s too hot, wouldn’t I perish too? you call back. Yoongi’s responding silence is so loud, but you fill it with a wild cackle.

“I’m gonna use all the nice shampoo!” he yells, but you’re already in the bathroom.

“And you’re gonna pay to replace it,” you retort, and he’s so caught off-guard that you’re there that he screams, drops a bottle on his foot, screams again. Up and off goes your t-shirt—Yoongi’s; smells like him and not a bar—and then you’re peeling off your underwear, tossing everything in the hamper. Into the shower. You reach out and touch Yoongi just so he knows you’re there even though he already does, but you press a kiss between his shoulder blades all the same. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he grumbles, all embarrassment.

Yoongi had insisted on a large shower. Something big enough for the both of you to fit in, and he’d blushed furiously when talking about it, but it was never anything sexual. You’d tried shower sex once, back in that shitty Silver Lake apartment, and never bothered again. But Yoongi craved the intimacy of showering together, the vulnerability, and over time you found it almost lonesome to shower by yourself.

So when he says, “Come here,” there’s enough space to maneuver beneath the spray, warm and not perishable-hot, and stand beside him. Enough space for Yoongi to rake his hands through your hair, get the strands wet; enough space to reach back for the nice shampoo he didn’t use all of; enough space for him to lather it in his hands and massage it into your scalp. A practiced song and dance. Something Yoongi could never forget the steps of.

Rinsed out, down the drain. Yoongi works in the conditioner next, brushes it through with his fingers, presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I was talking to Jin,” he says, and your mind is blank for a second. Then—when you woke up and he was on his phone. “About the cabin.”

“The one in Oakhurst?”

Yoongi nods. Turns you around so your back is to the spray, facing him. Lets the water rinse the conditioner away, too, before he’s placing a hand beneath your chin, tilting your face up. “Would you wanna go? Just us?”

“How long?”

A thumb settles in the contour of your cheek. Third finger traces the bridge of your nose. “However long you want. I—I don’t have anything, for a while. Could you work from there?”

You nod, a little delirious on how gentle Yoongi’s being with you. “Ye-yeah. Should be fine.”

You suck in a breath, shuddering as Yoongi brushes your rib cage when he reaches for the loofah. “D’you—” A pause. Time for you to swallow that familiar lump in your throat, keep from crying. “D’you think it’ll help?”

He pauses. Nods, so minutely you almost miss it. “I don’t know,” he admits, “but I want to try.”

“Me too.”

“Okay.” Presses his lips to yours. “However long you want, then.”

After he’s scrubbed the scars from your skin, the sadness, he wraps you in a warm towel. Stands behind you and wraps his arms around you as you both brush your teeth. Presses a kiss to your temple. Watches, so fond it makes you ache, as you dry your hair. Cracks little jokes about each product you use, says surely you don’t need all that, and you swat at him because you do. Because he uses just as many as you do, and sometimes uses yours. Tenderly takes the lotion from your hands and rubs it into your skin. His hands are firm when they run over your calves, your thighs, and your moan is quiet but it’s there, and you watch, mouth open, as Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut. As he takes a second to collect himself, breathe through it.

He just hasn’t heard that sound in a while, is all.

“Can I make it up to you now?” The words are spoken into your skin, pressed into the ditch of your knee, all warm breath skirting along your skin. “Show you how much I missed you? How much I love you?”

Goosebumps erupt all over. Dazed, you nod, and instead of words, you can feel the way Yoongi smirks. “Gonna take my time with you,” he promises. “Gonna take you apart. Would you like that, baby? Want me to take you apart?”

You meet your own eyes in the mirror, quick to forget where you are when Yoongi’s like this. You already look picked apart. Glassy eyes, mouth parted. The towel slips in your slackened grip and you dare another glance in the mirror, already knowing you’ll find Yoongi’s hungry gaze staring back, at full height.

“Look at you,” he chides, tone husky, and it’s not a shock that your husband wants you, that you’re both desirable and desired, but Yoongi is usually so unshakeable. Stable. Seeing him so affected from so little has you lightheaded, has your thighs clamping together unconsciously. “No.” Words firm. “Don’t hide from me.”

You reach back, still staring into the mirror, eyes still locked with Yoongi’s. Your hands tangle in his hair. Dark, longer than it’s been in so long, soft when you pull on it a little. Yoongi groans, buries his face in your neck, nips at the skin there. Through half-lidded eyes you watch as his hands roam your body. Feel the way he grows hard against the small of your back. Briefly, you think you might want it like this. Might want Yoongi to hike up the towel, bend you over the counter.

(Impersonal, because that’s what you’ve grown used to.)

But your hand finds his, slow their travel, lace your fingers together. “Not here.” He bites at your skin again and your whole body flushes when he begins to suck a bruise into your neck. “Yoo—Yoongi. No-not here.”

The bites slowly melt into something taunting, almost cruel. “You sound a little needy, baby.”

“I am.” You’re not embarrassed to admit it. It’s been so long you’re nearly aching with want, and you know Yoongi, know the kind of lover he is. The want is so strong you’re trembling with it. “Yoongi, please.”

Your words are hushed, meant only for the sanctity of this moment. Yoongi looks up long enough to catch your eye—long enough for the corners of his lips to pull into a smirk, to squeeze your hand tighter. “You don’t want it like this?” he asks, even though he knows your answer. But he still makes a show of it. Uses his free hand to grip the edge of your towel, drag it up and over your ass. Pauses to knead the flesh there before planting his hand in the center of your back and bending you over the counter. “Bet I could take you just like this, couldn’t I? Bet I’d just slide right in.”

The whine that escapes you is honestly pathetic, but you’re already so wound up, coiled tight, that you’re long past the point of caring. And you wonder, briefly, why you should care at all; why you care about the sounds you make, the way your body looks, when it’s Yoongi. When it’s your husband and not some random hookup. It’s that thought—this is my husband, my husband, my husband—that has your toes curling against the cold tile. It’s seeing the glint of his wedding band in the mirror.

“Do it here.” Your voice betrays your desperation. “Just—fuck, Yoongi, do it here, I don’t care.”

It’s maddening, the fact that he hasn’t even touched you yet. Not properly. But that’s the thing about space: sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it’s a dying star, a supernova explosion, and you know what comes after. A black hole. Endless, inescapable, dark dark dark. That’s where the two of you are. That’s what all of this is, just a perpetual pull towards Yoongi, fated. Perhaps nothing more than gravity, but you let it reel you in nonetheless.

If the two of you are fated to go out the same way, the same dying star, you’ll go willingly.

“I’ll give it to you how you wan’ it,” Yoongi slurs. Leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses across your neck. “Get on the bed, baby, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He’s on you before you even have a chance to drop the towel. Drapes his body over yours and presses you into the mattress, wraps one hand around your throat just to keep you there. Like you might leave. Like you might decide you don’t want this, don’t want him. As if you could. “Tell me what else you want,” he says, words unstable and wavering. He’s so fucking hard.

“Your mouth.”

He cock twitches at your words, your direction, and he smiles down at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re burning. “Yeah? That’s what you want?” A switch flips when you nod, chest heaving. Yoongi gets so serious, laser-focused, and it’s overwhelming when it’s pointed at you. You reach out, trace two fingers over his cheekbones just to make sure he’s real, and Yoongi captures them, presses a kiss to the center of your palm.

He’s not so gentle after that.

Yoongi moves slowly, intentionally, and you feel like prey, all part of the show. He trails his tongue down the column of your throat, the space between your breasts, your stomach. Spreads your legs and settles between them, places them over his shoulders. Stares. You can only imagine what you must look like: how wet, how open. His breath is so warm against you when he speaks. “You have to come on my tongue before you can have my cock.” He presses his thumb against your clit and circles slowly, and you can’t remember the last time he touched you like this. “Do you understand, baby?” A few months at least, maybe longer.

You nod. You’d agree to anything to feel Yoongi’s mouth on you, and he knows this, laughs before he leans in to lick a fat stripe against your slit. It’s instinct, the way your hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him closer. Having him here isn’t enough; you need to be consumed by him, need him to ruin you from the inside out, even though he already has. It’s also instinct, the way you know you belong to him, the way everyone who might come after him will pale in comparison.

As diligently as ever, Yoongi works you over. Eats you out so sloppily you can feel it pooling between your legs, seeping into the sheets below you, and the way he’s moaning around you makes you writhe. Has you gripping at the duvet, his hair, his hand. Has you rolling your hips against his face, groaning when Yoongi just takes it. When he says like that, yeah, so fucking hot, baby, love when you use me. When he reaches up to shove two fingers in your mouth and gives you no warning before he presses them inside.

“Fuck, fuck—”

Embarrassing, the way you can hear yourself, the way you can hear every wet pass of Yoongi’s tongue. Embarrassing that he’s only had his mouth on you for a few minutes and you’re already teetering on the edge. Embarrassing how hard Yoongi has to grip your hips to keep you where he wants you. Embarrassing that you welcome the bruises, want to be marked by him. “Are you close?” You think you nod. It’s hard to do much of anything when Yoongi crooks his fingers, presses firmly against your g-spot. “Is my beautiful girl gonna come from my fucking fingers? My mouth?”

(You are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me.)

You try not to go there. You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to think about the words in that song, try to remember that’s all they are. If Yoongi had meant to hurt you, though, he’d hit his mark. Just words, you remind yourself, but they take you out of your body completely.

And it’s a funny thing, this almost-grief, because you’re hurting so badly it feels like you’re drowning, but with the pain comes guilt. What do you do when the person who cut you is the only one who can bandage it? What do you do with this pain when you want to talk it to death, make sense of it, but you don’t want to make Yoongi feel worse?

You hide—hide the pain, hide yourself.

You’ve gotten good at it over the last few months, too much practice, so you let Yoongi suction his lips around your clit and get you off just the way he said he would. You let him kiss you after, taste yourself on his tongue, and you think, This is what you deserve, I hope you taste like me forever, I hope it never washes away. You tug your lip between your teeth when you push him away and reach for his cock. Spit into your hand and say something dirty as you jerk him off, and Yoongi falls for it. Moans brokenly and thrusts into your hand, gets greedy just the way you had before reality humbled you.

“Ba-baby,” he whines, rutting a little harder, a little faster. Everyone gets selfish eventually. “Gotta fuck you.”

It should feel satisfying, seeing him desperate like this, seeing firsthand how badly he wants you, the fucked-out look on his face, but it all rings hollow. So you finish the show—push two fingers into yourself and coat Yoongi’s cock once more with your own slick—and roll over onto your stomach, arch your back the way you know he likes, and beg him to fuck you.

Yoongi falls for it. Yoongi pushes inside and groans, and you moan because you should and not because it’ll cover the sound of your sobs. Yoongi rolls his hips and lets whatever he thinks come out of his mouth, all filth, and it should do something for you but instead you’re wondering what he’d say to someone else. Would he fuck someone else like this? Would he be as desperate for it?

Eventually you forget to keep moaning but you don’t stop crying. You wonder if it should feel cathartic or if it’ll just feel like this forever. You think about New Year’s Eve and crying alone in the kitchen, how Yoongi hadn’t known. You think, I’m scared I could eventually hate him. I’m scared that line gets blurrier everyday.

“Baby?” Yoongi realizes this time.

You think, Another dying star.

“Did I hurt you?”

You think, Maybe I’ve already burned up. Maybe this is all that’s left.

“Baby, talk to me, please—”

You think, How many holes can you patch before it all sinks anyway?

“I’m sorry—”

You think, I’m scared of how much I want to hurt you. I’m scared I’m going to be angry forever.

Yoongi turns you gently onto your back. Takes a long, hard look at the tears rolling down your cheeks. Seems to commit them to memory. Starts crying, too, and it’s nothing more than vindication that doesn’t feel satisfying. Everything just tastes like ash: remnants of the supernova, the crash and burn, a thousand cuts.

Yoongi loves you. “Keep going,” you say, because you both need it. Not every problem can be fucked through, but you think this one can. “Please, keep going.”

Yoongi hesitates. Must find whatever he’s looking for as he stares down at you before he nods minutely and pushes back in. This is not the way you thought you’d heal, but there is only one way this is going to end, so you might as well. The first time was always going to be the hardest.

“I love you,” Yoongi says, and it’s raw. It’s real, the way he drops his head to the crook of your neck and cries. The way he finds your hand and laces your fingers together. His wedding band is cool against your skin. “I fucking love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my fucking life, you know that?”

He’s got something to prove. Wants to fuck devotion into you, wants to promise you impossible things. You wrap your legs around his waist and whimper, ask him to fuck you harder, but he doesn’t. Fucks you steady. “We’re gonna go to that cabin,” he rasps. “We’re gonna figure this out, and we’re gonna do all those things we talked about years ago. I’m gonna fuck you in every room in that place, just like this. I’m gonna make sure you know—even if you leave, you’re gonna know how much I love you.”

He’s going to be the end of you. “Yoongi.” He already is.

He moves your hand to your clit, tells you to make yourself come. Tells you he wants to see it. Fucks into you just a little faster, a little deeper, and you can feel the coil tightening again. Another supernova, you think as your body surrenders and shudders, and buries himself to the hilt and comes with you.

Sometimes space is a dying star, and sometimes it’s salvation.

and when i see you, i really see you upside down / but my brain knows better. it picks you up and turns you around.

There had been a time, years ago, when you and Yoongi would sit at your cramped kitchen table and pluck scraps of paper out of a bowl.

A lot had been left to chance back then. Probably too much, in hindsight, but that’s just the way life was. Carefree, a summer breeze, blissfully naive. The two of you were young and love-drunk and warm from the sun. Yoongi had worked endlessly—gigs for shit pay in shittier bars, overnights in his studio, fingers calloused from guitar strings and networking—to put a ring on your finger, nothing certain except how he felt about you, and that had been enough.

It’d gone like—

(“What’d you write on that one?” you ask, trying to peek over the bowl between you to see. Yoongi laughs, swats your hand away, says oh my god, go away, you’ll see if you pick it. “You’re no fun.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m no fun because I don’t want to spoil a surprise.”

“But you know what’s on all of mine!” you argue, and you feel more in love with Yoongi than ever, picking a place out of a bowl, leaving things to fate.

It’s your pout that does it. You jut out your bottom lip and turn on the puppy dog eyes, and Yoongi folds like a bad hand. Yah, yah, don’t do that! he says, laughing harder than before, covering his eyes with those calloused hands. There are so many stories in those hands.

So Yoongi laughs and unfolds his scrap of paper and pushes it in your direction. Refuses to meet your eye as you read it over, and you can’t figure out why he’s embarrassed of it. “Jin’s cabin? It’s up in Oakhurst, right? That’s only a five hour drive.”

“For a honeymoon, though?” Yoongi’s question is quiet, small. Still embarrassed. “Isn’t it kind of lame?”

“No, it’s not lame. You’ve wanted to go to Yosemite forever.”

“Yeah, I’ve wanted to go. And it’s mostly just for Horsetail Fall—”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing dramatically. “Yoongi. Put it in the bowl.”

“But—”

“Put it in the bowl.”

A flush creeps up his neck but he listens nonetheless, re-crumpling the paper and tossing it into the bowl. You’ll be picking soon, and you know the odds are slim, but you put a silent hope into the universe for Jin’s little cabin in Oakhurst to be the one, to be able to do this one thing for Yoongi when he’s been working himself to the bone to do so much for you.)

—and it hadn’t worked out, that cabin trip. The two of you had gone to Italy, Yoongi having been the one to pull it, and you rented scooters and ate gelato and soaked in the coastline. You’d dragged Yoongi on a tour of the catacombs and he spent hours at the Roman Forum, reading all the plaques and taking it all in.

You hadn’t felt like you’d missed out. Time hadn’t been wasted, and you still look back fondly at those pictures—the one of Yoongi with powdered sugar on his nose from too much sfogliatella, the two of you at Lake Como, you with all the stray cats at the Gatti di Roma, one in your lap, all gray, that you said had looked like Yoongi.

But, going to that little cabin in Oakhurst now, it feels a little like redemption. It feels like the universe is handing you the keys on a silver platter, saying, it’s okay to do it again; even if you got it right the first time, who says you can only do it once. So you take a day off for the drive and your boss gives you the week; you pack as many clothes as you can fit in your suitcase; you set an alarm for seven o’clock and try to stay grounded.

First, though, you have to survive Namjoon.

“How are things?” he asks, folding one endlessly long leg over the other.

Beside you, Yoongi radiates nervous energy. Jittery but not anxious. The kind of pent-up energy a runner might have: in position, awaiting the gunfire before a race. Composed to a fault, it’s not often you see him like this. Maybe right before an album drop or a big show, but never in marriage counseling.

So it doesn’t feel like a lie or lip service when you say, “Better,” and Namjoon and Yoongi both swallow down the same kind of smile.

“And why is that?”

“We’re going on a trip,” Yoongi says, and this surprises you, too. Protective, fiercely private Yoongi. “To, um. A friend’s place. Up in Oakhurst.”

Namjoon looks excited. “Near Yosemite,” he says. Not a question. “Is this a getaway or just a change of scenery?”

You look at Yoongi; Yoongi looks at you. “I’ll have to work some of the time, so I guess it’s a little bit of both,” you answer, “but it feels… good, exciting. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah?”

You’re fidgeting, digging imaginary dirt from beneath your nails again as your cheeks warm. “Yeah. I know Yoongi has wanted to go for a long time, so I’m excited for that. I think… I think it’s important for him to do something like that, right now. Something big, you know? Or, something that feels big, I guess. I think it’ll be good for him, and—”

“It’ll be good for us.” Yoongi’s correction is gentle, dandelion-soft. He can’t look you in the eye as he says it, but he doesn’t need to. His neck is flushed and Namjoon’s expressive enough for all three of you. “Anything that’s good for me is good for us.”

If you’re stunned, Namjoon is shell shocked. It lasts all of five seconds before he’s coughing to cover his grin, jotting down notes like a mad professor, and it’s a little tooreminiscent of the way your parents had pushed you out the front door on your prom night—that same brand of giddy excitement, like they knew something you didn’t. But, Namjoon is a professional before anything else, so he simply asks, “How long are you going?”

“TBD,” Yoongi answers again.

“You’re able to take the time off?”

Right back to earth. Another sore point, because sometimes, like now, it’s easy to forget who you’re married to; easy to forget when you’re the pinnacle of American suburbia—standard nine-to-five, family health insurance plan, a maxed-out Roth IRA—and Yoongi is anything but. It’s easy to forget when your lives are so different. When Yoongi’s got songs and albums to write, for himself and everyone else, and shows and tours to plan, for himself and when someone else needs him as a fill-in, and you’re gearing up for another half-year spent alone at home.

Sure, it sucks sometimes, but getting to watch Yoongi live out his dreams tampers down all that negativity. When it’s two a.m. in Los Angeles but midday where he is and he sends you pictures of whatever he’s doing, what he’s eating, candids of his tourmates, all the sights and sounds. Yoongi’s doing exactly what he’s always wanted, what he’s meant to, and it’s okay.

What’s good for him is good for you, after all.

“I, uh—” He pauses, rubs at the back of his neck. The flush is still there. “I put a pause on the stand-in work for the rest of the year. Told everyone I wanted to focus on writing and producing and… stuff. Everything else. Getting my shit together.” You can hear it when he swallows, can see the slight tremor of his hands. Yoongi has never done well when he’s not working himself to the bone—when he has too much free time to spend in his own head. “And I can do that from anywhere, so.”

Namjoon catches your eye over the rim of his glasses. Seems to ask a question you’re not sure the answer to so you just stare back, and then his attention turns back to Yoongi. “When you say ‘stuff,’ what do you mean?”

“Well, I wound up here, didn’t I?”

From anyone else, it would sound snappy and bitter, but from Yoongi it’s just… self-deprecating, wounded, like it’s nothing more than a personal failure. Like Yoongi is the only reason the two of you are in marriage counseling and not a million little things the two of you have done. “We,” you correct, dandelion-soft just like Yoongi had been, and his head turns toward you so sharply you worry his neck is going to snap. “Don’t do that, Yoongi.”

He’s stock-still, back uncharacteristically ramrod straight, jaw dropped slightly. “Don’t take on the full burden of this. We wound up here. It’s okay to say that.”

Namjoon tries so hard to hide another smile that his dimples look more like craters.

i roll the window down and then begin to breathe in / the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen.

“Hi.”

Yoongi is slouched in the doorway of your office, beanie pulled down low. Strands of curls stick out of the bottom and you shoot him a smile, distracted from your task of packing up your work equipment. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Are you all packed?”

You shrug. “Just about. I don’t really have that much stuff. Just my laptop and some files.” You eye him skeptically, already sensing where this is going. “Are you?”

Your husband pouts, and it’s such a pathetic expression that you swear you can feel your heart grow three sizes. “In my defense—”

“Oh my god.” You try to look stern, but a laugh bubbles out of you anyway. “Why do you always do this?”

“I don’t like packing,” he whines. “And I need help.”

“With what?”

“Some of my production stuff.” He pouts deeper, sends you an impressive pair of puppy dog eyes. “Please help me. You’re my only hope.”

“How much are you bringing?”

“Not that much,” he answers in a way that sounds like a promise. “I wanted to bring the Yamaha because the cabin has that screened in porch and I think the acoustics could be really interesting in there, but it’s really heavy—”

You sigh. Look down at your laptop and stack of paperwork and wireless mouse and sigh again, then nod your agreement, because it’s not the first time you’ve helped Yoongi lug his gear in and out of your place and it won’t be the last. You’ve all but perfected it by now.

The car looks more like you’re moving than going on a trip. Your neighbor’s such a shithead you’re surprised he hasn’t poked his head out by now and asked when the house is getting listed so he can buy it and flip it for three times the price. Another brainless capitalist shill, Yoongi always says, and you laugh to yourself as you force another duffel bag of god-knows-what into the trunk. And we’re his neighbors, so what does that say about us? you always reply.

It takes the better part of twenty minutes, but then it’s done and you’re left with sore arms and a sweaty brow. Yoongi looks like the weight of the world’s been lifted from his shoulders rather than his hefty digital piano, and the thankful smile he shoots at you is worth any price.

“Do you need help with anything?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No,” you respond, picking up the stack of files only to drop them back down on your desk. “It’s really just my laptop and this stuff. I’m fine; go do whatever it is you’ve got left to do. I’ll take care of it.”

There’s a look Yoongi gets when he’s laser-focused. Intense, unmistakeable, intimidating, especially when it’s trained on you. That’s how he’s looking at you now: looking at the sheen of sweat on your skin, the way your tongue runs along your bottom lip, your mussed-up hair. Both of you know exactly what he wants, and it drives you a little crazy when he’s shameless like this. When he’s not shy about looking, about wanting.

So Yoongi bends you over your desk and fucks you right there, right in your office in front of the street-side window. It’s hazy and primal but he takes his time, does and says exactly what he wants, has you a trembling, incoherent mess in record time, and it works. You come so hard you don’t think about the song, you don’t cry, and those threads of optimism start weaving something you can hold in your hands.

—

“Shut it off,” Yoongi slurs, voice deep and raspy from sleep.

You snort, turning off your alarm, seven a.m. sharp, and roll over to press a kiss to his forehead. “Wake up, sleepyhead, I got breakfast.”

He opens one eye, looks at you questioningly with it, blinks in confusion. “How long have you been up?”

“A while. Now, come on, I ordered your favorite.”

That piques his attention. “The breakfast sandwich?” You nod. “And the little strudels?” You nod again. “Coffee, too?”

You grab the plastic cup and shake it, rattling the ice. “One large iced Americano, at the ready. I even got you one of those bottled horchata cold brews for the road, even though you swear you don’t like them.”

“They’re too sweet,” Yoongi answers. It might be early, but apparently not early enough to not lie right through his teeth.

You glare. “You steal mine every time I order one.”

“That’s not true,” he grumbles, accusations forgotten as he spots the greasy takeout bag. “I should brush my teeth first,” he whines, looking agonized. “I should, right?”

“Says who?”

“I don’t know. The universe or whatever.”

You laugh. Watch, fond, as he drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom. Watch, even more fond, as he returns with a little toothpaste on the corner of his mouth that you thumb away. Watch, hopelessly and forever endeared, as he buries himself back under the duvet, pulls it up and over his nose. You can see the way he’s pouting from his eyes alone, and he starts whining about the cold, how early it is, how the only thing that’ll cure him is a kiss.

Which you give. Freely, without thought.

(And the two of you barely make it to Santa Clarita before Yoongi cracks open the cold brew he didn’t want. Doesn’t say a word about it being too sweet, just sits quietly in the passenger seat, half asleep, as he scrolls through his playlists. Queues up something soft, easy to listen to, and talks your ear off about Jeff Beck when one of his songs comes on.

Beck’s Bolero, which is not as soft and easy as the songs that played before it, but it makes Yoongi’s eyes light up. Has him seemingly speaking in tongues as he spits guitar terms to you, half of Jeff Beck’s life story interwoven with endless praise and awe, all the while he drinks his horchata cold brew and doesn’t say a word about it being too sweet.

You want to listen to him for the rest of your life.)

—

Oakhurst is small.

Only two traffic lights before you reach the road Seokjin’s cabin is on—a sharp right turn off the main highway, an acute angle, a steep decline. You’re glad you’re doing this in early March and not the dead of winter. Doubly glad you’d ignored the judgmental stare Yoongi had given you at the car dealership when you’d insisted on an SUV, all-wheel-drive.

You’d know the cabin was Jin’s even without an address. Baby blue exterior, pink front door. Blends in but still manages to stick out, much like the man himself. More like a bungalow, maybe. Looks, from the outside, like the kind of place that might be good for starting over. Someplace small and unassuming—someplace with a screened-in porch with two rocking chairs. A place where you can drink coffee. Decompress from the city. A place where the only thing you know is Yoongi, so he’s your focus.

A place that makes you smile.

You kill the engine. Just sit in the silence for a moment, hesitant to wake up Yoongi. Unsure, honestly, how he’d slept through the last leg of the trip, all the hairpin turns and uneven roads, but you close the car door gently and punch in the lock code for the house and lug in everything except Yoongi’s gear and let him sleep. Then, when he stirs awake, looking confused and a little lost, you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and gesture theatrically at the baby blue bungalow with the pink door and say, “Surprise! We’re here!” even though it’s not a surprise.

Yoongi laughs anyway.

There isn’t much to unpack, nor is there much space to put it. Only a closet in each of the bedrooms, so you dump everything out of your suitcase and thread your clothes through velvet hangers. Laugh at the thought of Yoongi doing no such thing—of Yoongi living out of his luggage for the next couple weeks, everything wrinkled and looking lived-in.

He comes and finds you, places a hand on your hip as he asks for the car keys, says he’s going to the store. Seokjin had stocked the pantry, but he wants to get fresh stuff, and you know that means he’s going to come back with more coffee than groceries. So you just nod, say okay, ask if he’d like you to unpack and put away his clothes. His nose scrunches; you hide your smile and leave it alone.

When he’s gone, you crack a window in the living room to air out the lingering emptiness. Suck in a mouthful of fresh air that seems to sting your lungs, all evergreen. There’s still so much to do, and you should probably stretch your legs after so long in the car, but the temptation to sink into the couch is strong. Seokjin’s got a soft blanket thrown over the back that you arrange over your legs, and then you’re asleep, some stupid paranormal show playing on the television to greet Yoongi whenever he gets back.

You dream of forgiveness, endless sprawling mountains, and the smell of coffee.

the rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door / have been silenced forevermore. and the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row. it seems farther than ever before.

There’s a dive bar up the highway that does karaoke on Friday nights. You crack a joke about going.

“Fat chance,” Yoongi answers. He’s driving this time, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles have gone purple-white.

It shouldn’t mean anything. It doesn’t. Yoongi isn’t a dive bar karaoke kind of guy anymore. Left those days back in college, where you were suffering through your economics courses at USC and barely had two nickels to rub together. Yoongi would play open mics during the week just to cover the bus fare for the two of you to go into Koreatown on Fridays—enough to cover a noraebang for an hour, just to sing some girl group song horribly off-pitch just to make you laugh.

So it shouldn’t sting when Yoongi scoffs and says fat chance about singing karaoke at the dive bar when you drive past it, because Yoongi isn’t a dive bar karaoke kind of guy anymore. Now he’s the kind of guy who gets up on a stage and sings songs to thousands of people. They don’t laugh; they take pictures and videos and sing along to words he wrote, so it shouldn’t sting, and you try not to let it.

Instead, you focus on the blur of scenery: all the greens and browns; whites and deep grays from all the trees that have burned; the blue of the endless sky; the color of the asphalt, the edge of the world, like you could tip right over and disappear, nothing beyond the margins. Yoongi drives the thirty minutes to the park and it doesn’t sting, and you wonder if it’s just because it doesn’t or if it’s because you’re numb.

—

Yosemite is hard to put into words.

You feel small, wrapped in the expanse of the mountains, in this ancient nature that has existed long before you and will persist long after you’re gone. Maybe insignificant is a better word for it, because there’s so much to see—so much that’s known and unknown—and it feels like counting grains of sand. Feels like you could never possibly catch up.

So you sit on the ledge of an overlook and just exist. You don’t watch Yoongi take pictures on an old point and shoot, the one he’d ordered from Japan, because this is just for you. Whatever happens between you and Yoongi, these memories will only belong to you, and you don’t want to override something that’s happy with something that could eventually be sad.

The two of you get back in the car. The drive to Yosemite Village is slow, made even slower when you pass a bunch of cars pulled over. There, about thirty feet from the road, is a baby bear and a crowd. There’s a woman standing too close in order to take a picture and ten more people screaming at her for it. Yoongi looks awestruck when you catch his eye.

“I’ve never seen a bear before,” he says, and you nod. Neither have you.

Maybe you were a little stung before, about the karaoke, even though it’s stupid. But the fact that you and Yoongi have been together for so long and still manage to see new things together eases it a little. Plants a tiny, hopeful little seed.

All you have to do is water it.

—

The weather in the village is bitter cold.

Both of you are wrapped up tight, only your noses peeking out from between the layers of your scarves, tinged pink. Yoongi had wanted to go to Mirror Lake; didn’t seem at all deterred when he found out the shuttles were only doing basic routes so the two of you would have to follow the trail from the shuttle stop. Just under two miles. Hadn’t seemed so bad at the time, but now your lungs ache.

Snow and ice cover most of the lake. It isn’t as reflective as it’s known for, but you’re glad to experience it nonetheless. The sand crunches beneath your boots as you look for a log to sit on, the chill seeping through your clothing as you rummage through your backpack for a protein bar. Yoongi’s off taking pictures again, and it’s another moment you’re content to sit in the quiet.

Gives you time to take stock, figure out how you’re feeling. Instinct wants to say better, but you know it’s wishful thinking. Immature. The tendrils of hurt are still wrapped around your heart, and it’s only been a few days. Not enough time to hack them away. But you’re… at ease. For the first time in a while, it feels like you can breathe, and doing so doesn’t make you feel heavy, doesn’t weigh you down with guilt. Things might not be okay right now, not all the way, but you think your compass is finally pointed in the right direction.

Your husband joins you once he’s done. Doesn’t say anything, just sits beside you on the log and accepts when you offer him half of your protein bar. He’s got a nervous energy about him, like there’s something he wants to say but can’t figure out how to, and that feels familiar. That feels like the status quo. Two people who love each other but can’t figure out how to talk to one another.

So you say, “It’s gorgeous here,” and hope it’s enough. You’re not going to push him if he doesn’t want to talk, but it feels necessary to extend an olive branch. It feels necessary to try.

“It is,” Yoongi agrees. Rubs his hands together. Watches his breath dissipate in front of him. “It feels different.”

“What do you mean?”

A bird lands on a branch in front of you. Orange chest, vibrant blue on top; striking against the dreary backdrop of winter. You watch as it ruffles its feathers, shakes off the snow, and Yoongi cocks his head to the side. A guy who knows a little about a lot, full of knowledge, so you aren’t surprised when he says, “That’s a western bluebird.”

You hum an acknowledgment, because you know what it means to see a bluebird. You know the symbolism, but it feels a little too heavy to bear right now. “Pretty.”

“Yeah.” Then he’s sucking in a breath. Says, “There’s a ramen spot in Mariposa, if you’d wanna go there for dinner.”

It’s not what you were expecting him to say, but you nod anyway. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Yoongi finally turns to you, then. Raises an eyebrow in question. “But is it what you want?”

“It’s just dinner,” you shrug. “Something warm will be nice after this.”

That nervous energy amplifies. Turns all those words clearly biting at the back of his teeth into a tangible thing. “Something warm—yeah, okay. Sounds good. They have matcha cheesecake.” He smiles, like he doesn’t want to but can’t help himself. “Seemed like something you’d like.”

Two things strike you, then: that your husband is always centering you in his world, even when the two of you are like this, and how badly it hurts that you can’t seem to talk to one another. Because you aren’t taking pictures with him because they might turn out sad, and Yoongi is choosing restaurants because they have matcha cheesecake.

And to hell with that, you think. Yoongi is your husband, and if you can’t talk to him then who can you talk to? So you sigh, say, “Look at me, Yoongi,” and you know there’s a fragment of surprise evident on your face when he listens. You know there’s a fragment of sadness on yours when you take in how exhausted he looks. Almost defeated. “Why can’t we seem to talk to one another?”

It must be what he was working up the courage to say, because his shoulders sag immediately. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m trying, but it’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes I’m scared I’m gonna say the wrong thing and that’s gonna be it.”

Your brows pinch. “Okay,” you say, because sometimes you aren’t easy to talk to. Sometimes you take things too personally, sort of revel in the hurt. You understand hesitation. “I… want to fix that. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah,” he eventually answers. “I do, too. We’re not really gonna fix anything unless we can talk to each other.”

“Yeah, true.” The bluebird chirps from its spot in the tree. Stares down at the two of you with these jerky little tilts of its head. “Do you think that’s our problem? How it got… like this.”

“I don’t know, baby,” he says again, and you immediately want to push back on it. I don’t know doesn’t tell you anything. Doesn’t tell you how to fix it, how not to let it get this bad again. But then he says, “It could’ve been anything, you know? A million things. I think—I know that doesn’t help you, but for me, it’s less important how and why we got here because that’s… gone. I can’t change it, and the more I dwell on it the more I spiral, so I’m trying not to do that.”

A stuttered exhale. “I haven’t felt present in a long time and I guess it just compounded. Like, once I realized something was wrong, it felt like I’d left it too long to try and do something about it. I knew you were hurt, and instead of trying to fix it, I’d just think, of course you hurt her, because you’re good at that.”

“That’s what you think?”

“Sometimes.” You reach over and take his hand, barely able to slot your fingers together with the thickness of your gloves. “I know I explained it to you before, but the song… it wasn’t honesty, it was self-destruction. Because I thought if all I do is hurt you, then you should be with someone who doesn’t do that. Someone who knows what they have and is able to hang onto it.” He hangs his head, guilt-stricken. “I don’t know why I wrote it. Call of the void shit, I guess, like I told you. I knew the whole time it was a bad idea. I just thought… maybe you’d hear it and do what I couldn’t.”

“Leave?”

He laughs, all derision. “Yeah. Stupid, isn’t it? I’m scared to death that you’ll leave me, so I tried to speed up the process.”

You sit with his words for a minute. “I don’t think it’s stupid, Yoongi. Can I tell you what I think? I think you feel like you deserve to be a little sad, like some kind of artist’s curse. I think you think you need to feel tortured in order to create, and I think you’ve appointed yourself the arbiter of my happiness, so you see me being human as a failure on your part. And I think I made a very smart choice when I was twenty-one years old, because I think you’ve taken my heart and kept it safe all these years.

“It… does matter to me, how we got here,” you continue, “because if I don’t know why, I’m scared it’ll happen again. But you told me I need to give you more credit, and that goes both ways. I know I can be a bastard, so I’m going to be selfish and ask for patience, and I’m going to give you the same. Just… please believe me when I say I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as we’re both gonna try to fix this.”

Yoongi stays quiet. Sticks out his pinky, and you hook yours around it.

(You know what it means to see a bluebird. Remember reading about it once, back when you were desperate to find meaning in everything. Right after a time of tremendous difficulty, the bluebird comes to bring good fortune in all things such as love, healing, and happiness.)

and together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air / began to pass through every pane of weathered glass / and i held you closer than anyone would ever get.

Yoongi’s birthday is soon.

Four days, to be exact. The two of you will be celebrating in Jin’s cabin in Oakhurst, surrounded by nature and a town still foreign to you, Yoongi’s music gear scattered all around like a treasure hunt. Follow the cables until you find him, hunched in front of a glowing computer screen, massive headphones shoved over his ears as he gets absorbed into his own world, strumming his guitar all the while.

You think thirty will look good on him.

The weather’s still mild, still colder than you’re used to, but the breeze feels nice when you open the small windows in the kitchen and let it blow through. It feels nice when you run to the grocery store and stand in the foreign aisles, staring at all the ingredients you’ll need to bake a cake. You haven’t done it in ages; since Yoongi’s twenty-sixth, you think. Almond with chantilly cream. It had taken you ages because the cream kept splitting, and you insisted on meticulously arranging little strawberry slices between the layers, but Yoongi had loved it so much it hadn’t felt like work at all.

So you grab what you need and some things you don’t and you feel as light as the breeze on the drive back to the cabin. You make a last-second decision to stop at the donut shop because it closes in the afternoon and you never catch it when it’s open. Two blueberry old fashioneds, a large Americano for Yoongi, and a mocha iced coffee for yourself. Six dollars, and the woman behind the counter is kind.

“What’s that?” Yoongi asks when you place the coffee and donut on his makeshift desk. The headphones are looped around his neck.

You click your tongue, all sugar. “What does it look like?”

“This looks like a donut and an Americano. What’s in the bag, though?”

“I went to the grocery store.”

“For what?” he pouts. “I was just there!”

That pout fades when you press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t pout. I picked up stuff for your birthday cake.”

“My birth—” he begins, seemingly offended by the mere thought of his birthday and that it might be soon, and then he looks at the date on his computer and mumbles an, oh shit. “You’re baking me a cake?”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice.”

He tries to peer into the bag. “What kind?” You swat him away.

“It’s a surprise,” you deadpan.

“But I saw strawberries in there.”

“No you didn’t. Now, eat your donut and get back to work.”

Yoongi pouts again. Really exaggerates it. “I’m really stuck on this bit. I might need a kiss for good luck.”

As you press a kiss to his lips, you think you might give him whatever he wants.

—

Yoongi spends the morning of his birthday tucked in bed.

You spend the morning of Yoongi’s birthday beneath the duvet, hands roaming every inch of your husband’s body. Thumbs digging into the muscles of his calves, sore from the overuse they’ve suffered the last few days. Nails grazing the sensitive skin of his biceps, his stomach, the insides of his thighs. Lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to his forehead, his temple, his neck, down his chest, the jut of both hip bones. And then, once he’s whining and writhing and just on the verge of begging, you spend the morning of Yoongi’s birthday making him come with your mouth.

He spends the early afternoon in his makeshift studio with a cup of coffee. Answers a couple emails. Calls his parents. Messes around on Cubase. Fixes the two of you a quick lunch and says he might want to wander around town for a little bit. Check out the antique store down the street, maybe spend a few hours in the park with his guitar, get some fresh air. Thirty feels weird, he says, and you’re anchored to your laptop at the small dining room table, so you just say okay, I’ll see you later for dinner. There’s a crooked smile on Yoongi’s face as he hikes the gig bag over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.

You: He just left. Coast is clear.

Seokjin: Thank fuck, I’ve been sitting at this Starbucks for 500 hours

You: No you haven’t

Seokjin: 499 hours*

When he arrives, Seokjin blows right by you and locks himself in the bathroom. You know I refuse to use public restrooms, he says after, slinging his arm around your shoulders. He’s not a hugger, so it’s the closest you’re going to get to one.

“My car reeks of kimchi and soup,” he says, dropping a bag of groceries in front of the refrigerator. “Won’t be able to get that smell out for weeks, probably.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” you intone. “You’re a god amongst men, Kim Seokjin.”

It’d been your idea. Wanted Yoongi to ring in his thirtieth birthday surrounded by as much love as possible, and a cabin-bungalow nearly five hours away from home wasn’t especially opulent. Not to mention Yoongi had been on tour the last two years—spent twenty-eight and nine in grimy venues in Texas and Birmingham, respectively—and the less said about 2020 the better.

So Seokjin had fucked off from his cushy job for the day and made the drive from San Francisco. Made the miyeokguk and myeongnan-jeot himself, and had whined when you told him you already bought the ingredients for a cake because I was gonna pick up mujigae-tteok, to which you replied, pick it up anyway.

Now he’s standing in the small kitchen of his own small bungalow, and you’ve got a one-thirty meeting so you can’t help, but he’s determined to make gyeran mari anyway, even if it inconveniences you. “Maybe I should make it closer to when he’ll be back?”

“Up to you,” you shrug. “You could also stand on the side of the road and resell all those eggs for ten times the price.”

He just sends you A Look.

—

You watch through the small window above the kitchen sink as Yoongi returns just after six, cheeks pink from the wind, arms full of goodies.

“Hey,” he says, kicking his boots off on the porch, “is that—”

“SURPRISE!”

Seokjin’s scream is so shrill you think you black out for a second. Nearly topple over from your spot in front of the island, frosting knife poised to strike. Yoongi’s still out on the porch, and there’s a terrible crash that can only be him startling and knocking into one of the rocking chairs. He’ll appear any second now, brows pinched, and go is that Seokjin? and once he confirms it is, in fact, Seokjin, he’ll start yell—

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, appearing in the doorway. Brows pinched. “I was gonna ask if that’s Seokjin’s car outside, but now I don’t fucking need to.”

Seokjin tuts, ladles another bowl full of miyeokguk. “Is that any way to speak to your elders? Now, get in here and sit down. It’s not breakfast, but it’ll have to do.”

Yoongi grumbles the entire time, but you see the way the flush deepens on his cheeks. The way he’s pleased to be fussed over, to have you and Seokjin in the same room as him. Pleased to be celebrating thirty surrounded by people who love him, people he loves in turn.

“Did you call your mother?” Seokjin asks, setting the bowl in front of him. He jokingly tucks a napkin into the front of Yoongi’s shirt.

“Of course I called my mother.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Are you stupid? It’s not my first day being Korean.”

“That’s correct! It’s your 10,950th day being Korean.”

“How did you—”

“I knew you would say that so I looked up how many days are in thirty years. Now, is your lovely wife done with the cake?”

You are, just about. Just a few more slices of strawberry to place on top, and you take a step back once you do so. Admire your hard work. Send up a quick thanks that the cream hadn’t split this time. Seokjin and Yoongi are still bickering—

(“Did you make the miyeokguk last night?”

“I’m offended, Yoongi. Of course I made it last night, the broth needs time to develop! It’s not my first day being Korean, either!”

“No, it’s your ten billionth, you decrepit bitch.”)

—and your heart feels full. Content. You see Yoongi laughing, all gums, and feel untethered. Like any second now your ribs are going to crack apart and give way, let your heart tumble right out of your body. Because it belongs next to Yoongi, always. Because it wants to be next to Yoongi.

So you finish the cake and set it aside. Sit down at the place Seokjin set for you, right next to your husband, whose hand immediately goes to your knee; who immediately turns and smiles at you, even though Seokjin is still squawking in the background. Yah, Yoongi, compliment the soup! Tell me how good it is! Yoongi doesn’t, because he’s still smiling, can’t look away from you, and you swear you can hear a fissure forming, except this one doesn’t hurt.

This one doesn’t hurt at all.

—

Yoongi is sufficiently drunk by nine.

That traitorous combination of alcohol and sugar. A shot of soju, a bite of cake, some mujigae-tteok. Seokjin’s endless chatter as background noise. Yoongi’s hand still on your knee, warm warm warm. Liquor loosens him up a little, has him bashful, chin tucked to his chest, when he offhandedly mentions Namjoon and Seokjin says who’s this Namjoon, and Yoongi says he’s our marriage counselor. Seokjin looks to you, then. Connects some dots.

Says, “Ah, Yoongi, did you eat your tteokguk on Seollal? No? See, this is why things are hard right now, because you didn’t eat your tteokguk. It’s good luck, that’s why you eat it,” because it’s easiest to get through to Yoongi, to let him know he’s okay, when you’re scolding him a little. When you treat it kind of like a joke. No big deal.

And Seokjin follows that up with, “How are you settling in here?” when what he really wants to know is are things better, are the two of you doing okay. Yoongi grumbles again, barely coherent at his current level of inebriation, and Seokjin says, “Ah, I bet not well, huh? There’s just the one Starbucks, can’t find your bougie pour-over, LA coffee here, can you? Do they even have oat milk? Are you—”

“It’s still California,” Yoongi argues, “there’s fucking oat milk everywhere. Hey, hyung, did you—did you know there’s, like, the tree nut milk orchard near here? Not far. Close by. I could drive to see the al-almonds.”

“Tree nut milk,” Seokjin deadpans. “You know, Yoongi, I did not know that. Why don’t you tell me all about it.”

—

By eleven, Seokjin is passed out on the couch.

By eleven-ten, Yoongi has convinced you to lay in the grass with him. A minute later he’s staring up at the sky, making wishes on superstitions. His breath vaporizes in the cold, and he’s not wearing a jacket, but he’s still flushed from the alcohol, feels invincible.

“Think the edible’s hitting me.” He laughs, short and raspy, and he doesn’t seem to care that the grass is wet with dew. Doesn’t care that it’s in his hair, seeping through his clothes. “What’s your favorite one of those?”

He’s pointing at the stars, wants to know your favorite constellation. All of them, you want to say, following his line of sight. Because they’re all different. All meaningful in different ways. All have their own story. Instead, you roll your head to the side, take in Yoongi’s profile. Say, “You’re my favorite,” and laugh at how flustered he gets, laugh at his gravelly protests.

“Yah, you can-can’t say that,” he whines. “That’s so greasy, you can’t say that, it doesn’t count. Give me a real ans—”

“Then why are you smiling?” You laugh as he grows even more thunderstruck, completely caught-out, and it’s nearing midnight but it does nothing to hide the blush creeping down his neck, tingeing the tips of his ears. “You’re so red. That’s exactly what you wanted me to say, you absolute—”

“Real answer, please.”

You decide to take pity on him. Poor thing, can barely look you in the eye because of one terrible pick-up line. “Fine. Pisces.”

His responding groan is so loud you have to slap your hand over his mouth. The grass is so cold but Yoongi’s laughter, the way his shoulders shake with it, makes you warm. “You’re just saying that,” he says once you remove your hand.

“Am not. Ask me why.”

“Okay. Why?”

“Because you’re a Pisces, first of all—”

“Oh my god, here we fuckin’ go—”

“—but I just like the myth. Aphrodite and Eros transformed themselves into fish to escape Typhon, and tied themselves together with rope so they wouldn’t lose one another.” You sigh, watch your breath dissipate into the dark. “I don’t know. I like to think… I don’t believe in soulmates, but I like to think some people are meant to tie themselves together. Some people aren’t meant to be apart.”

There’s a quiet little oh, and then there’s silence. Just the distant sounds of the highway, a dog howling, and, if you listen closely enough, Seokjin’s snoring from inside. Yoongi finds your hand, brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it, and he’s oddly quiet. Contemplative, maybe. Usually gets a couple drinks in him and starts talking your ear off, but this is nice, too. It’s nice to just exist in the silence alongside someone else.

“Do you know the myth about Eurydice and Orpheus?” he finally asks, and you nod, suddenly understanding why Yoongi doesn’t care that his hair is wet. So inconsequential to this moment where you can exist in the silence alongside someone else. “I was thinking about it today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think… I think I’d fuck it up. I think I’d look back. And I think you wouldn’t.” He sighs, and the weight of the world expels alongside it. “What you said about Aphrodite and Eros, that some people are meant to be tied together—if I couldn’t hear you, or touch you… That’s what you are for me, you know? An anchor. The first time I read it, it made me so fuckin’ angry, like why can’t this guy just listen, if he loves her that much wouldn’t he listen, but… I dunno. I think I get it.

“I’m so scared all the time that one day I’m gonna look back and you won’t be there anymore. What would I even do? Baby, what would I do? Sometimes I’m fuckin’ terrified that I don’t think I could have that kind of faith in anything, and I’m finally gonna make it to the end of this cave and they’re gonna lay all my betrayals at my feet.”

Midnight finds you still staring up at the sky, hair wet, breath tangible, wondering how you can be both an anchor and an albatross.

—

(In the morning, Seokjin makes tteokguk and ladles extra into Yoongi’s bowl.)

i'm reaching for the phone to call at 7:03, and on your machine / i slur a plea for you to come home, but i know it's too late / and i should have given you a reason to stay.

The thing about grief is that it’s indiscriminate.

Because it has no context. Grief doesn’t know that things are better, doesn’t know that the two of you have stuck to your appointments with Namjoon and are able to talk honestly; doesn’t know that laughing feels lighter, easier; doesn’t know that guilt isn’t weighing you down as heavy. So it feels a lot like treading water, and sometimes you’re able to float and sometimes you slip beneath the waves, struggle to breathe.

And it’s stupid, you think, that you can disappear too far into your mind to the place where everything feels bad. Where progress is meaningless. Where there’s still you and Yoongi and a crumbling marriage. Where the only words ringing in your ears aren’t I love you, but you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me. Just like last time. Regression.

There are only so many distractions. Work helps, because you can’t focus on how shitty you feel—how scared you are—when your boss is on your ass about deadlines. The antique store in town helps, too, though you must’ve worn a pattern into the floors by now, but you can’t help it. It’s nice to hear the stones crunching under the tires when you pull into the parking lot; nice to laugh at the giant Sasquatch outside and greet them like a friend; nostalgic to breathe in the scent of old stuff—belongings that were once well-loved, now free to be loved by someone else.

Grief doesn’t care that you’re sad and Yoongi has that spark in his eyes.

But Yoongi is smart. Wickedly perceptive. Knows there’s something bothering you long before you gather the courage to say it, because it feels wrong to dim that spark, take it away, so he lets you sit with it. Lets you take your time, and that endless patience just makes you feel worse. Makes you think, he deserves better. Makes you think, what’s the point of any of this. Makes you angry, because things aren’t fixed but they’re better, and why can’t everything hurt all at once instead of incrementally.

And, just like always, you can only tread water for so long, stave off the inevitable.

Because Yoongi’s giving you time but when you feel like this, everything reads like an attack. Feels like disregard and indifference. What you want is unfair, and you know it, because you want Yoongi to be able to reach into your mind and see everything that’s turned necrotic. You want him to know how to fix it without having to talk about it, because talking about it makes you feel guilty. How many times can you press your fingers into the same wound and be shocked when they come out bloody?

So it isn’t fair and it’s also hard. Words bite at the back of your teeth, because this is your husband—if you can’t talk to him, what are you even doing? Namjoon would laugh. The one that’s equal parts patient and exasperated, like he can’t believe someone like you exists even though he’s seen some shit. Worse shit than you and Yoongi have, that’s for sure, so it should be reassuring.

(Everything reads like an attack.)

“Hey,” Yoongi says, hip resting against the counter, towel thrown over his shoulder. (These things always happen in a kitchen.) “You okay?”

How doubly unfair is it that your first instinct is to lie? To say yeah, I’m fine—not to be deceptive, but because you’re sure with enough time you can make it true, foolishly certain you can either bury it or delude yourself. But Yoongi is looking at you like a caged animal; like he, too, is foolishly certain of foolish things. Yoongi is looking at you like he knows this is it. Like this is where you say I’m sorry, this just isn’t working, we were stupid to think it would even though we’re trying. Like this is where you take off your wedding band and place it calmly in his hand. No dramatics, just resignation.

So you don’t lie. You can’t. Instead, you say, “Yeah, I think… I think it’s just been a little hard lately.”

Yoongi tries to lie, too. Tries to hide how relieved his exhale is, but the smile peeks through, the flush on his cheeks. Can’t hide that he’s pleased because all those nightmares he’d conjured in his head aren’t coming true.

“I should’ve said something earlier,” you say, because it’s something that’s true, “I’m sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel bad, you know? I don’t want to keep rehashing things.”

He closes the distance. Wraps you in his arms, all warmth. Presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I know it’s hard to talk about these things sometimes. I just wanted to make sure we’re okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Yoongi, I think we will be.”

(Something that’s true.)

it felt just like falling in love again. and it felt just like falling in love again.

On Friday, the two of you go to the bar for karaoke night.

As he’s buttoning his shirt, Yoongi says do you think they’ll have Epik High? and you can’t help the ugly laugh that tumbles out of you even though it’s not really funny. Because no, this two stoplight town won’t have Epik High, but it’s the kind of thing you laugh at when you’re feeling terribly fond, horribly endeared—it’s the kind of thing you laugh at when you’re riding the high of going through hell and making it to the other side.

It’s the kind of thing you laugh at instead of detailing every reason you’re in love with him.

So you do your hair and makeup nice. Barely make it out the door, because Yoongi stumbles into the bathroom to fix his hair and put on cologne and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. Mutters a goddamn under his breath before he’s all over you. Kisses pressed to the nape of your neck, hips pressing you against the counter. The right side of painful.

You manage to pry him off of you long enough to shove him out the door, thighs just a little bruised, Yoongi’s lips a little too red. He’s still all over you at the bar. Still rests a possessive hand at the small of your back, still presses a kiss to your cheek every time he gets up to order another round of drinks, still whines and pretends to drag his feet when the house music plays and you pull him onto the dancefloor.

Someone sings “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra. It’s off-key and a little grating and Yoongi’s got wing sauce smeared on his cheek, but he still mouths the words to you. You are all I long for. All I worship and adore. You know you look lovestruck, and you think it’s a shame there’s barely anyone in this bar to witness it. What you and Yoongi have—it should be seen. It should be screamed from rooftops.

When the two of you go back to the bungalow, you split a bottle of red wine and sit on the living room floor. Yoongi has his guitar in his lap, barely able to play the chords properly, but he serenades you anyway. Does a better rendition of Fly Me to the Moon than the guy at the bar just because it’s his, and he’s singing it for you. He sweeps the blankets from the back of the couch onto the floor and fucks you slow. Holds your hand and kisses you until you’re breathless. (You already were.)

The rest of the weekend is spent similarly. Yoongi can’t keep his hands to himself, fucks you in nearly every room of Seokjin’s little house in Oakhurst, and presses praise into your skin like a brand. Sits on the living room floor again as you cook dinner, back ramrod straight against the couch; has a spliff stuck between his lips as he jots down words into a notebook. Looks up and over at you every now and then, cheeks reddening each time you catch him staring. You, too, refuse to smile until you’ve turned back around.

On Sunday night, Yoongi ducks out to go to the drug store and returns with an armful of bath bombs. Looks like he looted a bank, but he asks do you want to use the lavender one in that soft, shy voice, and you wouldn’t be able to say no to him even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You sink into the warm water, let the lilac swirl around you, make you soft, and you feel safe here with your back pressed to Yoongi’s chest. With his legs caging you in. With his words in your ear and his lips pressed to the top of your head, fingers dancing along your ribs, clearing the cobwebs from in between.

Monday comes before you’re ready. Insistent, inevitable—the sunlight streams in, wakes you slowly. Yoongi’s arm is thrown over your middle, both of you still lavender-soft, and he groans when you stir, buries his face in your neck. Everything is warm. A blissful little cocoon, made even more so when Yoongi pulls himself out of bed, makes a pot of coffee, returns with your mug steaming hot. He sets it on your nightstand, doesn’t want to risk burning you by handing it off, and tilts your chin up to press a quick kiss to your lips.

You’ve got a nine-thirty meeting, so you tangle your legs together and drink it as fast you can. Shameless, Yoongi watches as you undress—watches as the sun paints you in golden light, watches as you pull his t-shirt up and over your head, watches as your shoulder blades move beneath your skin. It’s the t-shirt that fucks him up the most, has him a little hard in his briefs. One of his tour shirts, the last one he’d gone on before the two of you got married. Says, a little awed, “I’d follow you anywhere,” and he doesn’t elaborate but somehow you know exactly what he means.

And he stays in the bedroom when you log on for your meeting. Listens to you talk to your team, your laugh soft and bright, and feels entirely dumbstruck. Feels overwhelmed, wonders how his body can possibly contain so much affection. Wonders, briefly, where it goes when everything hurts. If it’s just in a reserve, because Yoongi has loved you as long as he’s known you, and he’s not sure it’s ever felt like this; ever hit him this hard.

So, he locks himself in the second bedroom until the late afternoon. Pours over his notebooks, strums every chord he knows until he finds the right one. Jots down words he scribbles over and jots down more. Writes until the calluses on his fingers turn to blisters, writes until the words all blend together, until there’s something singular instead of tendrils. Yoongi writes until there’s something he can feel proud of; something that might feel a lot like redemption.

[interlude: monday morning]

(You listen to it far later. Back in your home that isn’t the apartment in Silver Lake but contains just as much love—perhaps more now than before you left; certainly more patience, more hope, more resilience. And as you take in Yoongi’s words, wrapped in their metaphors and their honesty, you cry again, but this time it’s quiet rather than heaving.

This time Yoongi is singing love, keep your arms around me.)

looking upwards, i strain my eyes and try / to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

“Should we go home soon?”

It’s a Saturday morning, and you and Yoongi are on the porch. The air is crisp and cool, makes your coffee a tolerable temperature, and it’s early enough that the world is largely still asleep. There’s no polluted noise, just the rustling of the grass that’s now a little overgrown and the one neighbor from down the road who always wakes up early to run. He must hear your muted voices, because he waves as he passes by.

Home. Back to Los Angeles. Back to your two-storey home with the awful neighbor who doesn’t wake up early to run and never waves to you. Back to the chaos you know. Back to a home that hasn’t felt much like one lately, but one that can be repaired, just like everything else. A home that’s got enough love stored between its walls that you aren’t worried.

But it’s still daunting, somehow. Things feel solid here, like a houseplant sprouting new life—resilient, but a little fragile, too. So you’re scared to burst the bubble and doubly scared of what that hesitation means. “I don’t know,” you say. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, either,” Yoongi answers. Takes another sip of his coffee, rocks a little in the chair. He’s got his knees pulled up to his chest. Looks impossibly small, especially in his oversized pajamas and the even larger hoodie he’d thrown over them. “It’s nice here.”

It is, in more ways than one. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss it.”

Yoongi hums. “Maybe I’ll just buy it from Seokjin.” Words muffled by the rim of his mug, like he’s trying to hide them from you.

Doesn’t work. Instead, you turn to him, eyebrow quirked. “Oh, really?”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Gotta do something with all this money, hm?” Then he sighs, picks at imaginary lint on his pants. “You like it here, though, right? Not saying I am, but—”

“Oh no,” you interject, voice at least fifty decibels higher. “I know you, Yoongi! You wouldn’t be asking me any of this unless you already had some half-baked plan in the works—”

“Yah! It’s at least seventy-five percent baked!”

You laugh, the sound the loudest thing for miles. “Yeah, okay. How much did you offer him for it? You spend all my money?”

“Your—that’s not funny.” He pouts. “I didn’t spend all of it.”

“Just seventy-five percent?”

“I’ll have you know I am a very successful musician. I could buy you ten of these cabins if I wanted to.”

You drop your mouth open in mock-affront. “And yet I have zero cabins, so what does that say about the state of your priorities?”

“Not this shit again—”

“I think it’s more of a bungalow, anyway.”

“Yeah, Seokjin said the same thing. Was really offended that I offered to buy his cabin.” A pause. A small lift at the corners of his mouth. “Still offered to sell it to me, though.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your face. “And I’m sure you said yes, of course.”

“I’ve grown very attached to those blueberry donuts.”

“Uh-huh.”

“...And it’s been good for us. We’re happy here. Happier.”

“Yeah, we are. You just needed some fresh air.”

Yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “Yah, knock it off! You’re making me sound like a tuberculosis patient. Like I just needed a trip to the seaside to heal.”

“I’m just stating facts, Yoongi. You’re a little studio hermit, barely witnessing the light of day. I bet you got one lungful of this mountain air and almost keeled over.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he accuses, “I’m revoking my offer.”

“That you extended with my money.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

—

Saying goodbye is hard.

As you load the last of your belongings into the car, it feels like you’re leaving behind a friend. You know you’ll be back (because Yoongi actually did offer to buy the cabin-bungalow and Seokjin seems keen, but whether that’s because he actually wants to offload it into the two of you or because he wants to salvage your marriage any way he can, you can’t be sure), but tears prick at the corners of your eyes anyway. Because you were desperate when you arrived, and now you aren’t. You were scared and lacking direction, and now you have another place to rest when you get tired.

Yoongi joins you at the car, his guitar bag slung over his shoulder. Just stares at the little blue bungalow with the pink door and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. Whatever he’s thinking, you know he’s saying it in his head in that fond tone of his. The one that’s bordering on thankful, and you are, too.

On the way home, Yoongi drives and treats you to (read: makes you suffer through) John Denver karaoke. Sings “Take Me Home, Country Roads” the way he used to sing girl group songs at the noraebang. Holds your hand the entire way, and the two of you stop at some hole in the wall for lunch, still a few hours from the city. He orders a beer—some disgusting IPA you know he only drinks to seem distinguished, even though this is the same guy you watched do keg stands in college for free Natty Light—to get out of driving the rest of the way and it’s your turn to call him a pain in the ass.

But he’s quiet in the passenger seat, and it’s not from the alcohol. He’s typing intermittently on his phone, pink tongue darting out from between his lips when he gets especially focused. “I think I got something,” he says eventually. “If I read it to you, will you tell me if it sounds alright?”

“I majored in economics,” you say, because you always do. It’s been your go-to since the first time he asked, all the way back in your junior year.

He laughs anyway. “Perfect, then you can tell me if this shit is gonna make me any money,” he answers with a wry smile, because he always does. “I’ve had this stuck in my head for days.”

You nod. You listen.

“And if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born, then it’s time to go. And you find your destination with so many different places to call home.”

You wonder how Yoongi is always able to put to paper all the feelings you’ve got locked up tight. You wonder how Yoongi always makes Los Angeles seem less daunting.

there'd be no distance that could hold us back. so this is the new year.

It’s the thirtieth of December.

Your shithead, capitalist shill of a neighbor doesn’t wave when you and Yoongi pack up the car this time, either, just watches from his front porch. You can feel his brooding; worse ever since Yoongi had offhandedly mentioned buying a place up near Yosemite. Got a really good deal from a friend, he’d said, just when we need to get away, you know how it is, and that had your neighbor’s jaw clenching, nodding in faux politeness. Even illuminated by the golden ambiance of icicle lights, he still manages to look like a dickhead.

Good riddance.

“Ready?” Yoongi asks, catching the keys with one hand when you toss them to him.

You nod. Then you fold yourself into the passenger seat and reach for his hand.

—

Oakhurst is still small, but it’s made room for you, now.

There’s still only two traffic lights before you reach the road your cabin is on—a sharp right turn off the main highway, an acute angle, a steep decline. It doesn’t matter what time of year you make the trip, because the uneven, precipitous little road always makes your stomach drop, but it’s home now. Another physical one, because you and Yoongi have worked hard over the last year to make as many as possible.

(And, even still, the strongest home you’ve made is Us. What the two of you have is something still standing long after the storm. Something that has persevered and stood tall, even when the foundation was shaking. Even when you wanted to tear it down. Even when it seemed beyond repair.)

“Home sweet home,” Yoongi jokes as he kills the engine, and you laugh because his tone is flat and dry. Belies his excitement, his insistence on digging out an old box of Christmas lights from the attic and bringing it with you. That he has this whole plan to spend New Year’s Eve decorating, bringing life to this little blue bungalow with the pink door.

“It is pretty sweet,” you agree, and just like before, you neatly unpack your stuff and thread your clothes through velvet hangers and Yoongi abandons his suitcase in a corner of his studio.

—

There’s a woman on the television with rosy cheeks and a drink in hand. She isn’t trying to sell you anything.

She’s lovely and very drunk and even more beautiful when she laughs, teeth perfectly straight and blindingly white. She’s prattling off questions to some celebrity, rapid fire, and they’re trying their best to keep up but it’s hopeless. Eventually they, too, just smile into the camera.

Yoongi’s in the kitchen fixing drinks. Expensive champagne flutes filled with inexpensive champagne, a pair of raspberries tossed into each one as a garnish. Your husband doesn’t even like raspberries, but he’d wanted to feel fancy, so you don’t bother questioning it. You know what it means—wants a do-over of last year. Wants this year to be what the last should’ve been, because this year the two of you will be sitting on the same side of the couch, drinking cheap champagne from Vons out of expensive glassware.

A gift from Seokjin, because he’s a bastard. A housewarming gift for a house you’d bought from him.

There’s still an hour before the countdown. There’s still an empty pot on the stove that used to be full of tteokguk. It’s a different New Year, not Seollal, but Yoongi had wanted to make it anyway. Cracked a joke about not wanting to risk it, so he’s going to eat as much tteokguk as possible, that he might need the luck, you never know. I didn’t eat any last year and still bought a second house, he’d said. Imagine how powerful I’ll be if I eat ten bowls of this.

Your husband is always powerful, but you hadn’t pointed that out. Hadn’t pointed out that the only reason the two of you could afford a second house was because Seokjin gave you a steep pity discount, either. Sometimes it’s just nice to believe in luck, on top of all the other things you already have to believe in.

(Like each other.)

There’s still an hour, and Yoongi hands over a flute of champagne and sinks into the couch beside you. You forget about the woman on TV, but you don’t forget about—“You know, I distinctly remember you making me a promise before we came up here last year.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah? Did I make good on it?”

“For the most part,” you answer. “Like, eighty percent.”

Yoongi snorts. “Refresh my memory.”

You set your glass on the coffee table. Angle yourself so you can swing a thigh over Yoongi’s lap to straddle him, earning you another quirked eyebrow. “I distinctly remember you promising to fuck me in every room of this house.”

His own glass abandoned, Yoongi settles one hand on your hip, the other on your thigh. “Surely I already did,” he answers, words spoken into the crook of your neck, goosebumps rising along your skin. “No way I would’ve been able to keep my hands off you.”

Warm lips press against your neck. Kiss their way to your jawline to the corner of your mouth. “Do you remember me fucking you on this couch? On the floor? You remember how hard you came that time?”

Your hips start to grind, seeking friction. This time, the cool metal of Yoongi’s wedding band against your flushed skin doesn’t shock you. Just feels like another home. His hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt feel like home. His tongue licking into your mouth tastes like home. When he pulls away to say, “I know you remember the time in the kitchen, the way I fucked your mouth,” you lose all concept of home entirely.

Home is just Yoongi. Everything is Yoongi.

“I fucked you in that bed so many times. Against the bathroom sink. Always so good for me.” He’s thumbing over a nipple, embarrassingly hardened from the husk of his voice, the way his cock is filling out in his joggers. “Where’d we miss, baby?”

You swallow. Know it’s audible even over the sound of the television. People are cheering, but you aren’t turning around to look, because what could they possibly have to cheer for when they don’t have Yoongi? When Yoongi only looks at you like this—like he’s already a little crazed, a little fucked up?

“The st-studio,” you choke out. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy. Not a drop of champagne made it past your lips and still the world spins.

You can feel Yoongi’s smirk against the column of your throat. Hate what it does to you, because Yoongi could talk you off a ledge when he’s like this. “Ah, you’re right.” Fingers trail along the hem of your pants, toying with you. “Is that what you want? You wanna ride me in my chair? You want it fucking dirty like that, my sweats barely pulled down, like you’re fucking desperate for it?”

You are, and you do.

So that’s how Yoongi fucks you. Gives you exactly what you want: sits in his oversized chair, pulls you into his lap. Sweats pushed down only as far as he needs to fish his cock out, slick it up, and then he’s pushing inside of you. Groans loud, tells you how tight you are, how wet and warm. And it’s stupid, because your husband is fucking your brains out, but there’s a little window in his studio, just above his desk.

Through it, you can see the Christmas lights the two of you spent the afternoon putting up.

You can hear Yoongi’s grumbling in your head, all his shouting when he thought he was going to fall off the ladder even though you were holding it steady. Cursed about not having enough zip ties. Cursed about one lightbulb being burnt out. Cursed when the extension cord wasn’t long enough. Only stopped cursing when you shut him up with a kiss.

You come hard. Yoongi makes good on his promise.

Another home.

—

(From the living room, the muted sounds of a countdown. Palpable excitement you’re finally able to feel, last year’s numbness long gone and replaced with endless warmth. Yoongi only leaves to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and then he’s cleaning you up and pressing his lips back to your kiss-reddened mouth. There’s a supercut playing in your head, all the past celebrations. All the parties the two of you have gone to, the years spent alone but together. All the people you’ve kissed in front of. All the quiet, private ways Yoongi used to tell you he loved you. When was the last time? Just minutes ago. There’s seven seconds until the new year and Yoongi is right beside you.

Fireworks explode outside. You cry this year, too, but they’re happy tears. They’re tears that serve as proof you survived, that you went through hell and made it to the other side. Yoongi sheds a few of his own. Laughs, almost disbelieving, as he tells you he loves you. Smiles, certainly disbelieving, when you repeat it.

You’re going to miss this place when you leave, but there’s a ring on your finger and a man beside you that tells you home can be anywhere, be anything. Tells you that sometimes you’ll have to fight for it, but it’ll always be there so long as you choose to.)

if you've made it this far, i'd like to say thank you again for reading this. as i said, this fic is deeply personal to me, and i hope you find something relatable in it as well.

i know people don't always love to read the members in westernized settings, and i completely understand. i chose oakhurst/yosemite because it's where i went for my own honeymoon, and, well, personal.

i'd love to hear your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. ♡

[7waystreet]

dirty confessions | park jimin

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 5 — jimin

My dear diary ❀

I have a confession to make. I've always had a deep rooted fantasy about watching my gf (y/n) pleasuring both me and Taehyung together... you know, just like an extra step to solidify our '95 liner soulmate status. And I'm so fucking thrilled to report to you that it finally happened.

Taehyungie doesn't even have to say any words for me to already know how he's feeling... he's a part of me, after all. My intuition that he had the hots for my lovely (y/n) proved to be right when I finally confronted him about it while we were all piss drunk at the karaoke bar last week. I caught him staring at my baby's ass and biting his lips so I light heartedly whispered in his ear if he wanted a piece of that delicious booty, only for him to sloppily slur back "Hell yeah Jiminah, I'd tear her pussy right up like you do every day, you lucky fuck."

Little did he know how hard my cock instantly got listening to his dirty wishes aligning with mine.

Now that I knew Taehyungie was excitedly on board, it felt like a big mission to also convince (y/n) to join in on the fun. Her and I have been together for so long, and I'm grateful to have found someone who makes me feel this comfortable and happy. You already know I've written pages and pages of how much she means to me... which is exactly why I didn't even feel nervous proposing my deepest desire to her. But I was certainly taken aback by the way she reacted to it when I'd asked her.

"What do you think of Tae? Would you be down for a threesome with you, me and him?" I'd proposed while we laid cuddled up in each other's arms on our soft, comfy bed together.

The words "I'm down" popped out of her pretty lips quicker than her fine ass had made me cum the first time we had fucked... quicker than a fucking second, that is.

At first I was confused by her enthusiasm... I didn't understand whether she'd been secretly lusting for Taehyung and was just desperately waiting for this opportunity to spring up. But then again, even if she did, I know for a fact she never cheated on me and went for him behind my back. Sure, he's the most handsome and fuckable man I've ever met, but she loves me too much and I love her and trust her fully. Besides, I was the one desiring this too, so who am I to blame her for wanting the same?

I felt like a damn manager trying to set up a hangout between us three for this heated session to go down, but despite the effort, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. I'll never forget that night.

I'd succeeded in getting all three of us settled on the couch in my apartment while we played a movie in the dark and sipped on some wine to ease ourselves in. Of course we all knew what we'd gathered there for, which was a steamy fuck fest, and it was a bit awkward at first, but my brave (y/n) made the first move by placing her pretty palms on each of our thighs as she sat in between the boys. My spine felt a tingle watching her run her hand up and down my shorts, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she saw my milky thigh twitch underneath her touch, all while his other palm smoothed out the wrinkles in Tae's gray sweatpants as she rubbed his thigh in an arousing way.

Her gaze remained on me even though both her hands moved up towards our dicks, her ability to simultaneously massage our hard ons making me fall in love with her all over again. I could hear Tae starting to taking deeper breaths and with one glance at him, I saw his eyes closed and head rolled back into the cushion as he took the feeling of my gf stroking his cock in the darkness, just like she was sexily doing it to me. My loyal (y/n) leaned into me for a kiss but I shook my head... "Go to him" I told her with a smirk and she smiled right back with a nod, giving me a peck before turning her back to me.

God, she's even perfect from the back.

She sat in between us with knees folded up now, leaning into Tae and slowly placing a kiss on his neck, which got him shuddering, his eyes opening up in a flash to observe (y/n) was solely giving him her attention. His first instinct was to shoot me a concerned look, as if he was asking for my permission, but I gave him a go with a nod and he instantly pulled her closer for a deep kiss. Seeing them swapping spits in a steamy makeout started to get me even harder, and my hands just naturally gravitated towards (y/n)'s perfect ass, which was facing me. I squeezed her ass cheeks through her tiny shorts and she whimpered from my touch, slowly crawling back and bending in her knees to angle her ass up in my face more, all while she leaned down and helped Tae take his pants off for a suck.

I just watched for a while... watched the content look on Tae's face as (y/n) took his throbbing cock into her beautiful mouth, his head flopping back into the pillow again as his eyes trailed down at her choking on his length. "Just like that baby" he kept whispering while holding her hair back in a fist, my own arm reaching over to run my fingers through Tae's black curly hair as he sat there throat fucking my gf. I didn't even care about how he kept calling her baby... how could I get mad about my baby calling my baby, baby?

My needs were growing by the second though and now I just had to pull down (y/n)'s shorts for a taste of her pussy, my thick lips attaching to her folds as I laid on the couch and angled myself underneath her, her back arched up until it almost broke. My tongue on her clit and her moaning in reaction got Tae aroused even more, the faster my mouth played around with her sweet pussy the more my best friend's chest kept rising and falling in heaves.

I couldn't take hearing both Tae and (y/n) moaning so loudly so I gave her clit a good suck and flick with my tongue before getting up on my knees and removing my shorts, my boner slapping up just ready to be stuffed inside my gf's tight little pussy. And the room was now filled with all three of our moans when I slid my length in (y/n)'s pussy from the back, the view of her ass jiggling against my stomach while I slammed my cock into her cunt and spanked her ass cheeks immaculate, all while Tae fucked her throat, a sight I'll never forget.

(y/n) was increasingly getting wet, my cock slipping in and out of her while I grunted from the way her walls gripped me, but I was distracted when Tae whined out "I want to taste her pussy". And I happily let him. We easily switched things up, the harmony between our motions almost suspiciously smooth, as if we were all meant to make this happen... hopefully more than this one time.

Tae disappeared in between (y/n)'s thighs when she laid on her back on the couch, her face turned to the side to allow my cock to slide into her mouth as I stood by the couch near her face. God, it felt so great watching Tae eat her out while digging his nails into her thighs, her legs flailing about and throat pulsating from the muffled out shrieks, my cock hitting the back of her mouth and fully nestled inside like a glove. My fantasy was indeed finally my reality, and I came straight down (y/n)'s throat after I reached that intense high which I'd dreamed about for so long. My bub swallowed my load of cum all at once like the good little girl she is, and Tae looked up to take a note of this after hearing my satisfied sigh. It was his turn to enter her all over again.

Tae fucked (y/n) straight to the heavens to say the least, living his own fantasy himself while I leaned down and sucked on (y/n)'s perky tits to up her sensitivity. I know my baby needs that extra kick to reach her orgasm and I was going to help her achieve that like I always do, right as Taehyungie gave her the pounding of her life. I'd already seen his cock since we've showered together in our dorm bathroom before, but never have I ever seen it so rock hard and erect, the veins running down his length making my eyes pop out. I stared at him entering in and out of my girlfriend's pussy while my lips sucked on (y/n)'s puffed out nipples.

She suddenly pulled the hair on the back of my head and made me come up to her lips, her deep desire to kiss me making me feel wanted and needed. It was a boost to my ego knowing Tae was dicking her down but she still wished for my lips to be sealed with hers and that's exactly what we did... my tongue mingling with her squishy one as she desperately panted for a breath, my fingers still pinching her nipples while we continued to make out with a crazy burning passion. Tae's thrusting pace got faster and (y/n) finally let go, her entire body tensing up and freezing as she orgasmed, my lips placing a soft kiss on her lips as she let out a shaky sigh, her chest then collapsing down and her back sinking into the couch.

Tae let out a groan and finally came into my gf as I coaxed sweet words into her ears, a smile curling up her lips even though her eyes were closed since she likes the praises I give her. I told her I love her and she said it back within a flash of a second, her grin widening up after she opened her eyes and locked them with mine.

The best part was cleaning up and going back straight into watching the movie together, all three of us cooled down and comfortable right back on the couch we'd just fucked on. Taehyungah ended up sleeping with his head on (y/n)'s lap while she tucked her face in my chest, my eyes drooping shut with a deep content feeling as I watched the two people I care about the most rest close to me with a new found appreciation and respect for each other.

I fucking love my life.

a/n ♡

i imagined jimin wanting to experiment with his best friend and his gf, his appreciation for both showing throughout his confession. the way he loves them is different; he's more possessive about (y/n) but not in a toxic way since he's willing to share her. and he's in pure awe of tae but doesn't neglect his gf or makes her feel less wanted despite this

— he treats his diary like a friend: says "my dear diary", "report to you", "you know i've written pages and pages" as if he's having a convo with his journal

— his romantic side: he always says "my (y/n)" and calls her lots of endearing words like lovely, brave, pretty, stunning, etc.

— his needy side: when (y/n) expresses she wants intimacy with him, his ego is boosted bcuz he loves to feel wanted. jimin acts this way around the members all the time, being needy for their attention

— his will to put his desires aside to watch the enjoyment on tae and (y/n)'s faces: jimin's a giver and he always puts his members first so it's no shock he's willing to let (y/n) go to tae first before he dives in

[bunnyksj]

How do you think Namjoon would fuck while he's high?

Lozenge of Love - KNJ X Reader.

Summary: Namjoon fucks you when hes high, thats it LMAO. 

Author’s Note: just a small little thing :3, im working on another fic that should hopefully be out soon !!

TAGS: MDNI, smut, weed usage (duh), literally no plot just sex, some dirty talk bc ofc >w<, lazy sex lol. 

WORD COUNT: > 1K 

“That's it, take it baby..” He whispers, his voice husky in your ear. 

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° 

Namjoons large hands snaked around your waist, holding you lightly as you moved up and down, your hips slapping together softly. He groans softly, feeling your warm cunt clench around him as you ride him. He tangles his hands in your hair, kissing along your neck softly, leaving small marks. He kisses over your hickeys gently, embracing every inch of you. 

“So fuckin’ pretty baby, love it so much…” He says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

His lidded red eyes gazing into yours, as he leans in, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. His hands run down your back, softly squeezing your ass, guiding your body up and down on his cock. 

“F-fuck, Joonie..” You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders, helping you move. 

“Feels good doesn't it, baby?” He mumbles between heavy breaths, his eyebrows furrowed focusing on the area where both of your bodies collided. 

“Mhm~! Want more…” You gasp. 

“Yeah? Pretty baby wants it harder? Wanna feel me so deep inside you..?”

You whine, feeling yourself grow wetter at his words. You lean your head down on his shoulder, inhaling his scent, he smelt like a mix of sweat, sex and pot. You move your hips faster, the wet slapping of both of your bodies filling the room, along with your moans and cries. His hand lazily smacks your ass, softly biting your collar bone. 

“Mm~. You’re my fucking girl, right? My good little slut all for me?” He asks, his voice low, his slightly bloodshot eyes looking at you expectantly. 

“Yes! I’m a good slut..” You gasp. “Wanna be your girl, Joonie.” 

“I know, baby. You’re all mine. Fuckin’ made for me.” 

He picks up his pace, his body thrusting up into you, making you cry out. You grip his shoulders, desperately fucking yourself back into him. He pushes you lightly onto your back, pushing your legs towards your shoulders, reaching even deeper inside of you. His lidded eyes focus on your face, contorted in pleasure, running a tongue over his upper lip. 

“Fuck, so fuckin’ sexy. M’ so fuckin’ lucky, ending up with such a pretty girl, all for me.”

He slams his cock into you, your wetness coating the sheets beneath you, legs trapped under his large palms. He slumps into your neck, kissing and biting it, his hand sliding down to your chest, squeezing it in his soft grip. His lips wrap around your other nipple, licking it softly. You whine, hands tangling in his hair, lightly gripping it. 

“Joonie..gonna cum..”

“Yeah, baby? Pretty angel’s gonna cum all over my dick, like a good girl, yeah?” 

“Mhm~! Feel so full, Joonie.” 

He softly giggles, his raspy voice, filling your ears. He continues to thrust into you, picking up his pace lightly, hips lazily smacking into yours. You arch slightly, leaning up into him, as you cum. Your hands tighten in his hair. 

He groans at the sight of you, his pretty girl, all flushed and fucked out. He cums shortly after, groaning into your neck, collapsing on top of you, taking deep breaths. 

“Did so fuckin’ well, fuck. M’ so worn out baby.” He sighs, resting his head on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Why Not 🔞

In which Jungkook has you figured out. Dirty humor, mean and bratty- you're pretty much simply a bitch. So why are you crying over some scraped up knees and a dirty plushy?

Tags/Warnings: non-Idol AU, enemies to lovers, reader acts like she could kill but is actually a cinnamon roll, Jungkook just simply is a cinnamon roll, adult themes, fluff, romance, short!reader go cry about it, smut but very low-carb (handjob, cum in pants oops), slight DDLG-aspects/themes? Soft daddy/dom vibes from kook?

Length: longer than JKs Dick career

Additional Content: How So (Part 2)

A/N: have to post it shortened bc the longer version breaks the app :) have some fluff comfort after all that angst psycho shit I posted.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It's not like Jungkook hates you. He really, honestly, doesn't.

In fact, he admires how honest you are, in a way. You seem comfortable with yourself, which shows in a healthy amount of confidence, no thought wasted on what people might think of your outfit or makeup. You're very expressive and creative, and you always work out solutions whenever everyone else would suggest simply giving up.

You're just.. too bold for him. He's not really interested in most things you discuss- which is often something lewd- and he also doesn't really share any interests with you. You're a miss know-it-all, you get dramatic if you don't get your way, and you manipulate people around you to even out your road ahead. You make demeaning jokes about yourself and you always put yourself down in a comedic manner- and he just doesn't like that. Even so, he still never casts you out, or ignores you. It's odd, because whenever you have one on one interactions, he can't help but feel like you're not the same as with others around. Just like right now.

You're currently all eating at a sushi place - you're sitting across from him, cleavage dangerously exposed, but he's got no right to be offended by it. In a way, he admires the way you seem to be so comfortable. But he can't help but notice the way you keep adjusting your top all the time, tugging and pulling constantly.

If it's making you so fidgety, why wear it? It irritates him a bit. He'll never understand why most girls choose fashion over comfort.

Your best friend Namjoon had told him before that you're actually not like this at all. That you're a great friend, caring and gentle and actually very fragile, and even a little shy and quiet when no one's around - however, Jungkook believes that's just your best friend trying to make you look good. You're totally fine the way you are - you're just too much for him personally. There's nothing wrong with that.

Just because he might not enjoy your personality, doesn't mean you have to change it.

But he doesn't question it, continues to eat and listen in on conversations, laughing along jokes and funny stories. He likes the energy of this. It's unforced, comfortable, easy. He's just about to continue eating, when he notices the glance you throw at his plate, something you've done a couple of times now, seemingly thinking about something, before looking away again, engaging in the conversation as if to distract yourself. "Do you want a piece?" He asks you as soon as there's a good moment, a bit more quiet as to not interrupt the current topic being discussed at the table.

You look at him, wide-eyed just for a second, before you shake your head. "It's fine. I'll maybe try it next time, though." You tell him with a smile. "Does it taste good?" You wonder, and he can't help but be amused. How come you can make straight-up dick-jokes at the dinner table, but you can't accept his offered food that you clearly got your eyes on?

"I don't know if my taste is the same as yours." He shrugs, watching as you chew on the inside of your lip now. "Let's trade, if that makes you feel better." He offers instead, and at that, you visibly perk up, eagerly putting a piece of yours on his plate to receive his.

You're.. kind of cute like this. Oddly so.

He watches without staring too much as you eat his gifted piece of sushi, clearly enjoying the taste of it as you swing your legs under the table a little. "This is good." You comment, making him nod with a smile before you both pay attention to the conversation again.

He doesn't really think much about the whole interaction afterwards.

It's not like it's anything special.

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"Ah, fuck." Namjoon curses, looking at his phone. "God, fuck. Yoongi I'm so sorry, I forgot I was supposed to drive with Y/N to her doctor's appointment today." He apologizes, making Jungkook look up from his phone.

"Is it something bad?" Yoongi asks, genuinely a bit concerned as Namjoon just seems unsure.

"We don't know, just a routine thing."He replies. "But you never know. And she's a little anxious, too. I wouldn't want her taking the bus or anything alone in that state." He explains, and everyone seems to agree that that's not a good idea. You're well known to not possess the most basic orientation skills sometimes - and with your head all over the place like this, it could just end with you getting hurt.

"What if I drive her real quick?" Jungkook offers casually, looking up from his phone from where he sits on the small sofa in Yoongi's studio. "You both can continue working, and I didn't have anything to do anyways." He shrugs.

"You know what, great idea." Yoongi chimes up.

"I'll.. text her. See if she's okay with that." Namjoon offers with a little hesitance, making Jungkook wonder how serious this appointment really is. Did you have any health troubles you'd been hiding? He's always been told to never judge a book by its cover. Maybe you were just putting on a tough mask to cover up what you thought was weakness?

Jungkook doesn't believe in that. You've always been this way ever since he'd met you.

"She said she's fine with it." Namjoon sighs after a moment, making Jungkook lock his phone and get up. "Here, let me at least bring you down." Namjoon offers, walking out the studio and towards the underground garage where Jungkook has his car parked. "Listen- can you do me a favor?" He wonders, and Jungkook nods.

"Sure." He says, opening the driver's door to throw his wallet into the back together with his jacket. "What is it?"

"Listen, it's a.. gynecologists' appointment." Namjoon says, quietly so, while Jungkook just.. stares, unable to quite grasp on why his friend would say it in a way that makes it seem as if the word is something you can't ever say out loud. So you're going to a specialist. So what? "It's her first time there. She's honestly terrified, so, if you could maybe go in with her and sit in the waiting room? Just, to keep her mind off of things." Namjoon carefully says.

Again, Jungkook just shrugs, before nodding. "Sure, no issue." He says, getting into the car. "I'll text you when she's back home then. You go up and help Yoongi." He says, before putting his phone into the holder, maps app opened to find where you're waiting.

He's a bit confused inside the car. With the way you're always talking, he'd been sure you would've been a regular at those places. Not because he thought you were a whore, God no, but he just believed until now that you'd be someone who's open and casual with it.

So why are you terrified of a simple doctor's visit?

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"You uhm.. really don't have to." You mumble quietly next to him, anxiously playing with your hands in your lap. You've been quiet the entire time, not really talking at all, and especially not looking at him. He's a little worried about that, wondering if you're maybe in pain, or really unwell in general to the point of changing your personality like this. "I know this must be weird for you." You say quietly.

"Not really, no. I went to one of these with my mom once, so its fine." He shrugs next to you, trying to maybe soothe your nerves by showing you that he's not at all weirded out or uncomfortable. To be honest, he's a bit surprised- because right now, the girl sitting next to him, isn't at all the girl he'd thought he had figured out.

However, he also assumes you might just be heavily uncomfortable with your health, which could add to you just behaving like you do right now. "You feeling okay? Should I ask them how long it's gonna be?" He asks, and you just shake your head.

"No, I can wait." You just say, trying hard to appear unbothered now. "Guess I'm just not really looking forward to a fifty-plus year-old digging around where the light doesn't reach, you know?" You attempt to joke as always, but Jungkook can spot the fakeness of it.

"Joon said it's your first time." He says, locking his phone now before putting it away.

"Son of a bitch." You curse under your breath, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed and legs thrown forwards, heels hitting the floor. You look almost defensive now, as if he'd just insulted you. "Yeah, I didn't need to go until now." You shrug. "But my regular physician keeps bugging me to check some stuff out, and Joon has been bothering me about it too." You say. "Not like he's got anything to do with my vagina for that matter."

"Well, he worries." Jungkook shrugs next to you. "And if you've got health issues, you should always get them checked out for that matter. Could be nothing, could be something. I can understand him." He explains to you. "He cares a lot about you."

"hmhm." You affirm quietly, a bit distant now, staring at the tips of your shoes. "Joon has always been a really good friend." You say, and jungkook nods. Namjoon is the main connection between Jungkook and you- the older guy being somewhat of a brother to him, in a way. He really admired his friend a lot, for his achievements as well as his determination to always better himself. He can't deny that he never really quite understood your friendship with him- with you being so extremely different from him- but he never questioned either. "He's honest." You mumble out, and Jungkook has to agree.

"He is." Jungkook nods, though he feels like there's something more to it. He doesn't get to ask however, because your name is suddenly called- and you jump up, taking a deep breath. "Hey-" Jungkook asks, and you look down to where he sits, as he smiles encouragingly. "-You'll be fine." He promises, and you nod, before disappearing with the nurse into the examination room.

It doesn't take too long for you to emerge back out, a prescription written in front as he gets your coat and walks towards you to the counter. "If it gets any worse, just give us a call, alright?" The nurse asks, and you just quietly nod before you walk out with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

"Everything alright?" He asks, and you nod, though next to him in the car, you run your hands over your face.

"I don't ever wanna go there again." You groan, hands still hiding your face as Jungkook looks at you a bit concerned now.

"Did something happen?" He asks seriously, canceling his action of starting the car.

You take down your hands. "No. It was just.. weird." You say. "The questions were nasty. I don't know." You say quietly, and Jungkook can do nothing but start the car to drive you home. He wishes he could- but at the end of the day, this is something he can't and won't ever really understand fully. He hopes it's just the new experience freaking you out.

Parking in front of your apartment building, you really look a bit terrified now. No longer because of the appointment though- but because of the honestly world-ending rain hitting his car like it's trying to smash it flat into the concrete below. "Its really going hard outside now." Jungkook laughs, but you don't seem to be in a joking manner at all. "If you run you won't get wet."

"I don't want you to drive in this weather." You say meekly, barely able to be heard over the loud rain.

"I'll just wait until it's better." He waves off, looking at you drowned in the orange interior light of his car. You seem to think, before you turn to look at him, eyes reflecting the led lights all around like mirrors. You're really pretty, without all that makeup.

"You can come up? Just, it's cold, and if you leave the car running that's bad for the environment and you're also wasting gas-" you ramble, and he laughs, shutting down the car at that, before grabbing his keys.

"Alright." He shrugs. "If you're cool with that." He asks, and you nod after a moment. He chuckles a bit, before grabbing onto the door handle, still looking at you. "On three?" He asks, and your face lights up in playfulness.

"One?" You start, making him grin.

"Two.." he continues, making you smile as well, before you both pull on the handle.

"Three!"

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Your apartment is everything he did not expect.

"Sorry, it's a bit messy.." you say, taking off your shoes before you slip into the pink slippers close by. The coat hooks on the side of the entrance are cat shaped. The mat where the shoes are put is pink. And from what he can see, everything you have is bright, pastel colored, cute.

Almost innocently so.

You're right and wrong with it being messy, he notices as he walks into the apartment. It's small, but cozy- blankets and round plushies littering the couch close by, kitchen sink containing some dishes you didn't wash or didn't put away yet. It is a bit untidy, but not messy, in his eyes.

It just.. looks like his own apartment. Simply alive.

"Do you.. want tea?" You ask, quietly, and he nods as he walks closer to you in the open kitchen. "I.. have a lot of different flavors so.. just choose one you like." You explain, opening a cabinet that's basically all about tea. Different mugs, mostly animal designs, flower shaped coasters, sugar and many different brands and flavors of tea, boxes a bit unaligned. He pulls out a little baggy of the box that's the most empty, making you smile a bit shyly. "I like that one the most." You admit.

"I assumed. Might as well try it then." He shrugs casually, letting you boil the water while he looks around from his spot. "Your apartment is really nice." He comments.

"Thank you." You answer quietly, pouring the water into the two mugs. "Namjoon sometimes sleeps over because, according to him, my pull-out couch is more comfy than his own bed." You joke, and Jungkook laughs.

"That sounds like him." He nods, accepting the mug before you both walk towards said couch. "Granted, he sleeps on a mattress on the floor though." He tells you.

You laugh. "He's way too much of a cheapskate to buy a bedframe." You shake your head. "He could just buy it and pay it off monthly." You say.

"He could. But I guess we'll never know why he refuses to buy one." Jungkook answers, watching as you toe off your slippers to get more comfortable on the couch next to him- before you put the mug back on the small table, jumping up towards the windows, opening them. "Its still raining heavy." He says, and you nod, turning off the lights, streetlights of the city illuminating the room enough to still see, as you walk back on the couch, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. "What're you doing?" He chuckles when you put one over his shoulders as well.

"I like listening to the rain. And it smells nice." You say, wind blowing into the apartment. "And airing out is important too." You tell him, leaning your head against the backrest of the couch. He nods.

This is nice.

He'd never really thought of those aspects of rain, has always just seen it as bad. It's already slowly stopping to rain so hard, now just a soft mist, but you're right. It smells nice, not like the usual faint city smog, but clean, and fresh. The air might be cold, icy on the tip of his nose, but its also refreshing, calming.

"This is nice." He comments before he turns, noticing a bit of weight on his back. You're asleep, resting against his back, and he uses this moment to look at you a bit.

Maybe Namjoon had been right, he thinks as he adjusts you to lay your head on his thigh, tucking your blanket in around you.

Maybe you're not who he thought you were.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"What do you mean you were inside her apartment?" Namjoon asks, visibly surprised as he puts down his chopsticks for a moment. "She let you inside?"

"It was raining hard, didn't want to let me drive home, so I had some tea at hers and left later. She fell asleep anyways, she was pretty beat, so I left a note and drove home after closing her windows." Jungkook casually explains, continuing his lunch across his friend.

"You do know she doesn't even let her own mother visit, right?" Namjoon asks, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, how would I know?" He says. "From how she acts and speaks, I thought she'd have regular visitors." He says, scooping up some rice as his friend across shakes his head.

"No. She hates visitors. She doesn't even open for the mailman." Namjoon says. "Her apartment is her safety zone. I'm surprised she let you in." He shrugs.

"Maybe you just don't know her that well." Jungkook teases his friend.

"You simply don't know her at all, Jungkook." He says. "Listen.. I, don't know how to say this.. " he starts, and Jungkook raises his brow in confusion.

"I'm not gonna fuck her, if that's what you're worried about." He says, and Namjoon runs a hand over his face.

"Thats.. that wasn't something I was worried about until you mentioned it actually." He mumbles. "So yeah. Don't do that please. And also, don't.. just, don't get too close to her. In general."

"Why?" Jungkook wonders honestly now. "Joon, she's not gonna break my heart or something. I'm an adult man, not a lovesick boy going through puberty. She's not even my type." He laughs.

"Jungkook, I'm serious." The older guy says, picking his chopsticks back up. "Just.. leave it as it is right now."

"What're you worried about?" Jungkook wants to know, finishing his meal as he wipes his hands clean. "You seem so serious about this."

"Because I am." He underlines again. "I told you before, she's not who she pretends she is." He reminds the younger, who leans back, arms crossed.

"What, is she a criminal?" He wonders. "Sells drugs? Owns guns? Criminal record?"

"Theres things I won't tell you cause that's not my right." Namjoon explains. "You're a good guy, I know that, she knows that. But if you get too close, she'll just get attached again." He sighs.

"And?" Jungkook clicks his tongue. "Nothing wrong with that. We're attached too. That's what friendships are. Attachments."

"I meant it as in, more than that." Namjoon mumbles in a somber tone.

"Oh." Jungkook realizes. "I.. don't think I'm her type anyways." He laughs it off, but Namjoon doesn't seem convinced.

"Just.. keep your distance." He warns. "Its for the best."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Namjoon doesn't tell him anything about you since that day.

You don't seem to hang out with everybody as much, and he himself hasn't seen you in what's been weeks now. Everytime he checks on you via your best friend, all he gets is a short answer that's way too vague to be the actual truth. Jungkook isn't sure why he's so interested in the first place. Maybe it's that small tiny glimpse of you that you've shown him, let him taste, before disappearing from his radar.

It bothers him, mainly because he feels like Namjoon has made him out to be the bad guy that's going to break your heart it seems. He's never given a clear reason why. He's never done anything wrong.

But its not like you've vanished into thin air, and because of pure luck, he spots you in a store he's visiting quite often, crouched down at the plushy-section. He almost didn't recognize you, pastel pink bucket hat and facemask hiding you pretty well- but for some reason, he still somehow knows it's you.

You seem to struggle between buying one or the other, holding both as you glance from one of the plush toys to the other.

"Tough decision, hm?" He asks, careful not to startle you but he still does, the seemingly sudden attack of his voice sending you straight onto your butt from your squatting position. "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you like that." He chuckles, helping you up and standing.

"No worries. I didn't pay attention." You say, while you hold onto the still packaged stuffed animals. "And uh.. yeah. I was thinking of taking, you know, maybe one." You mumble more or less. "Both are too expensive."

"Yeah, they price these pretty high in my opinion." He affirms, poking one of the plastic bags you're holding. "What's so special about these?" He wonders, and your eyes suddenly grow bigger, hands squishing the thing eagerly.

"They're squishy, and soft!" You explain to him eagerly. "Try it! They're like, I don't know, stress balls or something!" You say, and he does as you say, pulling and pressing down on the round purple creature.

"Hm yeah okay, I can see where you're coming from." He nods, charmed by your cute enthusiasm over the toy. "So, which one you taking?"

"I.. like the color of this one, and its a shark, but the other one is a chicken and cute too.. like, look at those little wings.." you complain, pulling on said wings a bit before you look down. "I don't know."

"Why not buy both and just.. skip out on buying any next month?" He wonders. "Treat yourself. For being brave at the doc's." He chuckles, and you start to fidget on the spot a little.

"They're too expensive." You reason. "If I buy both, I won't have enough money to buy proper groceries next week, and Joon has been bugging me about not eating frozen foods all the time.." you complain.

"Well, he's right, that's not exactly healthy." Jungkook agrees, before taking the chicken from you and turning it to see the price tag. "Its alright. Let me buy it then." He shrugs.

"You- no, you really don't have to." You say.

"I know." He smiles. "But I want to."

You don't say anything. You're not sure Jungkook is aware of what he's doing, supporting your bad habit of buying 'kid's stuff' as Namjoon scolds you constantly. Walking towards checkout, you can't help but wonder. "Did you and Joon fight?" You ask, and Jungkook shrugs.

"Not sure, honestly." He admits. "He's.. I guess he doesn't trust me with you."

"What does you mean?" You wonder in a serious manner, careful to make sure the line keeps moving as you walk next to him towards the cash registers.

"Thats what I'm wondering." He says. "Namjoon seems pretty protective over you. I don't know, usually I'd say he's got the hots for you, but he's with Jin, so that can't be the reason." He tells you, before walking closer to the busy cashier.

"As if anyone's got the hots for me but fourty-plus year old men." You scoff.

"Hey now, don't do that." He clicks his tongue. "I bet most guys are just- intimidated by you. You know." He shrugs, waiting in line next to you with the round chicken plush tucked under his arm. "I know I was."

"Was?" You wonder, and he laughs down at you, his smile almost blinding.

"Yeah, definitely past tense." He jokes. "Now I just think you're cute."

You want to question that further. Suddenly, it's your turn, but Jungkook walks right behind you, pulls out his credit card way before you can grab your wallet, pays for both the stuffed animals and walks you out the store.

"How'd you get here?" He wonders, as you both walk outside.

"Bus." You answer, and he nods.

"You want me to drive you home?" He asks. "I don't mind, it's on the way for me."

"Jungkook.." you suddenly say, voice trembling a little as you stand in front of him at the side of the parking lot. "I.. appreciate your kindness but, uhm.. please don't." You say, and he's a bit taken aback by it.

"Did I do something wrong?" He wonders. "If I came off too strong, I apologize. Really didn't mean to."

"Its just that.. I'm kind of tired getting friendzoned." You laugh bitterly. "Its kind of old at this point. Seeing everyone be nice to you and then move on once they've found their special someone."

"Thats.." he starts, brows all scrunched up as he stands in front of you. "You're not some part-time activity." He explains honestly to you. "I'm not being nice to you to fight my boredom or anything like that. And you're definitely not friendzoned." He chuckles a little.

"I'm always friendzoned." You scoff. "I'm just everyone's little sister, or the lewd one that's always up for a random call when the date doesn't show up." You argue.

"Well, here's the thing." Jungkook tells you, gently uncrossing your arms before placing the two round plushies in each, respectively. "I really don't care what's made you build up that tough mean-girl persona you've created. But I'd like to get to know the girl that's looking at me right now, just like this." He grins, tapping the underside of your chin teasingly. "You're teasing me with those glimpses of you every now and then. I want to know more, if you'd let me."

"That 'me' is boring." You say. "She's childish."

"I've thrown a tamper tantrum before." He shrugs.

"She's stupid." You tell him, but he shakes his head.

"I doubt that. We all got brain-farts every now and then." He crosses his arms, amused smirk on his face at your attempts to drive him away.

"She's cries over Disney movies." You try, and he laughs.

"Hey come on, everyone cries over the fox and the hound!" He simply defends, and you sigh, almost annoyed.

"Jungkook you say all that right now as if it won't end with me hopelessly falling in love with you, while you're gonna leave me behind because 'you're sorry but you've met someone and you're a great friend but nothing more'!" You complain.

"You won't even try and let me love you." He softly says, and you're a little shocked at how easy he says the for you dreaded 'L'-word. It's a big word. A heavy one. "I can't stand here and promise you that I'll fall in love with you, because first and foremost, I don't know you. And you don't know me either." He explains. "But that's something we can change. You just have to let me in."

"And you don't have to let me in?" You try and jab at him, making him laugh.

"I don't have to let you in." He simply says. "You've been seeing who I am the whole time. I'm not hiding anything." He shrugs.

"..." you pull the two stuffed animals a bit closer to yourself, plastic crinkling in your arms before you speak. "What if you don't like who I am?" You wonder quietly.

"Then at least we tried." He offers. "Life is scary. Meeting new people is scary. Letting people go is scary." He softly explains. "But if you just hide away from those things, you'll also miss out on opportunities to experience something great. Meet someone special. Or create a memory you'll never forget."

"So you're saying you already know you won't like me?" You say, now just being stubborn to see what he does.

"Stop putting words into my mouth you brat." Be laughs. "I don't like the 'you' that you force yourself to be. I know that for sure." Jungkook tells you, grabbing his car keys from his pant pocket. "But I feel like I'm gonna like this you that's right in front of me right now a lot."

He speaks bold, appears honest. You're still not sure if you trust him. And namjoon had told you to really keep him at distance, stay on high alert of anything.

But somehow, he's caught you, sticky like honey already staining your skin.

And you've always had a sweet tooth.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It kind of feels like sneaking around.

Even though right now, you're doing nothing naughty at all, not even remotely. Jungkook is simply helping you cook, watches the pizza in the oven before he puts the mitts to the side. "You got a timer set?" He wonders, and you nod.

"I've got it to the full time for now, let's hope we don't forget the check every now and then." You say, and he nods, walking into the living room with you. The smell of food is already slowly invading your space, and you open a window to make sure it airs out before you'll go to bed later.

He's staying over. You're surprisingly calm about it.

On the couch, he's looking at you from the side. "What?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"I'm just wondering." He says. "Why do you act so differently around others?"

"Because everyone walks over you when you're soft." You explain, pulling your legs closer to yourself next to him. "No one takes you seriously. You're just the quiet girl and nothing interesting. No one cares." You mumble.

Jungkook wants to tell you that's not true, but he knows that he'd be wrong. It's sad that soft hearts get put in a hard shell because of what most people think should be an admirable personality. Someone strong doesn't have to be someone who's always bold and loud.

When his fingers find your knee, you stiffen. It makes him question out loud what he's been having on the tip of his tongue for a while now, ever since arriving at your place. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He wonders, and you shake your head- before shrugging, unsure. "You're a bit confusing. In a way, cause you seem like you want me close, but when I am, you start to look all cornered, just like now." He wonders.

"Yeah well.. when a guy touches me, it's always been just for that." You say. "You know. Sex."

His face becomes serious. You notice quickly how that sounded.

"Nothing bad ever happened! Not really." You admit. "But it's.. I guess I should've told you right from the start. So you won't get your hopes up." You sigh. "I don't.. want to have sex."

"Okay." He says. "Neither do I right now. I just want to touch you. Nothing else."

"Yeah no, I mean it as in- not right now, probably not anytime soon, maybe never?" You ask more or less. "I've.. never had sex before. And at this point it feels like I've just passed all the opportunities to have it with anybody."

"Do you dislike the thought of it?" He wonders. "What's making you uncomfortable about it?"

"I.. guess I'm scared it'll be awkward?" You say, wiggling your feet a bit. "What if I don't like something, for example? Or if I make a weird sound, or, I don't know, don't cum or you don't cum and then it's all wasted time and just awkward.." you try and explain.

"You're intimidated by it." He sums it up for you, and you nod. "Thats fine. First's are scary, no matter what kind."

"I'm an adult." You conquer. He laughs.

"I'm one too, and I'm still freaked out by shit!" He laughs. "But, to get back to the topic, I'm okay with that."

"Okay with not having sex?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I mean, I get it's important for most people, and I like the intimacy of it, yeah. But it's not a necessity." He shrugs. "I can jerk myself off just fine."

You deflate a little, both because you feel more calm now, but also because you don't know how to tell him you might be interested in the entire topic. But it seems like he can read minds.

"We can also, you know, ease into it." He offers. "Doesn't have to be all hard-core bondage first time." Jungkook laughs. "You okay with this whole discussion?" He gently asks, and you nod.

You're weirdly alright with it.

"So let's like- what do you like?" He wonders. "As in, when you masturbate, what's something you enjoy?"

You cringe a bit. He laughs. You're cute.

"I.. uh.." you stammer, voice a lot more quiet now. "I've got like, a vibrator? That's nice." You shrug. "Other than that, uhm, just my hand. You know. Basic stuff."

Jungkook nods. "Ever put something in?"

"It.. uh. Dunno. Never really came from it alone." You say. "Which is also why I think sex with me is gonna be weird because I've never really gotten myself off on just that." You say.

"Doesn't mean anything." He shakes his head. "The mood, foreplay, all of that makes a huge difference. That and the fact that someone else is doing it. I remember my first handjob I got. It was weird as fuck, even though technically I should've been used to it." He laughs. "I think what personally scared me most was just being naked I guess." He offers some past fears of his own.

You nod at that. "Same."

"You're pretty tough." He smiles. "I'm not just saying that. I think you're pretty, with clothes and without as well." He flirts.

"I'm still not having sex with you." You defend yourself, and he shrugs, smiling still.

"I know." He tells you. "I'm still fine with that."

It's quiet for a moment, until you speak up again. You're not sure why you're bringing it up again when you could've just let it go, because clearly you've always been against the idea of having sex with someone. But with Jungkook, for some reason, it's so easy to talk about all of this.

"I.. you said you'd ease into it " you mumble quietly. He nods. "How?"

"I could just jerk you off." He shrugs. "Simple hand job. Clothes can stay on."

"And then?" You wonder.

"Then what?" He chuckles. "The you'll know if you like someone else doing something like that for you." He offers.

"What if I'll fall in love with you then?" You quietly ask, and he impishly smiles.

"Then I've done one he'll of a good job." He jokes, before looking at you more seriously. "In all seriousness though. I wouldn't mind you falling in love with me."

"I can tell." You say, looking away. "You're easy to love."

"Thank you." He offers. "You're very easy to fall in love with too."

"That makes no sense." You roll your eyes. "Love and lust aren't the same. You just want to screw me."

"Do I?" He raises his brows. "Can't lie and say you're not physically attractive to me. But I stand by what I said. If you don't want sex, I won't ask for it."

"You'll just end up leaving me for someone who wants it." You bitterly laugh. He doesn't look happy.

"No." He says. "Okay, do you want be with me? Emotionally, I mean?" He asks you, and you look at him wide eyes. "Yes, I'm asking you out here."

"I-" you stammer, caught off guard. "Yeah?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" He teases, making you whine.

"Maybe? Yes?" You try again, but he just shakes his head.

"Alright." He simply answers. "I'll go look, see if the pizza is burned yet. You calm down, I think I've riled you up enough." He laughs, hand on your shoulder for just a second before he leaves you to yourself, giving you some breathing room.

It gives you time to think.

You like him. He's a nice guy, good looking too, and he seems honest about his intentions. You don't love him yet, but its clear that he's easy to fall in love with. But isn't love a requirement to start a relationship? Can you just get together and then fall in love?

You're not sure. But you also want to find out.

So when he emerges from your kitchen, you call out to him. "I want to." You say, and he looks at you wide eyed for just a moment, before he seems to realize what you're talking about. "I.. wanna be with you." You say.

And he smiles, grins brightly, like a kid just being offered a trip to Disney world.

"Okay."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Everything alright?" He chuckles, voice breaking the silence in the darkened living room. "I can hear you creeping around."

It's true, you've been trying to keep quiet because you really don't know how to ask this. It's been bugging you for hours now, there's no way it seems you'll be able to fall asleep without at least attempting to solve this issue. But how do you ask for it?

He'd asked you out. You're together now, right?

"I- uh.." you wonder quietly, navigating slowly towards the pull-out couch where he's laying on. "Just wanted to see if everything's alright." You chicken out last moment, and he laughs softly.

"I'm alive and well." He answers you, before he throws back one side of the blankets, patting the spot next to him. "You wanna sleep here?" He wonders, and you sigh.

"How come you know that?" You almost whine, walking closer before you crawl underneath the warmed up blankets he'd been resting under. "Thanks." You say, but he shakes his head.

"No problem. You can come closer, too." He tells you more quietly now that you're already laying next to him.

It takes a moment for you. You're not sure how close you want to get, how close he will let you- so you slowly scoot forwards, inching closer like a scared animal before you finally settle with your head on the inside of his shoulder, arm over his middle. "Is that okay?" You wonder. He nods.

"Definitely." He answers. "Do you cuddle a lot?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"I've not.. cuddled with anybody since I was a child." You admit. "So I.. jungkook, I'm gonna need a lot of help for this." You confess quietly. "I don't know how this works. How I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what's right and what's not."

"Thats fine." He reassures you.

It's a little silent after that. You don't know what to say, how to ask. Isn't it weird now? Won't you move too fast? "What's going on in there." He teases, finger flicking your head rather gently. You move around a little uncomfortably. He notices right away. "Not good? You can go back to your bed if it's not comfortable." He offers.

"I don't know.." you say, unsure how to put it in words. "..I'm still thinking about what you said. Earlier." You mumble.

"What exactly?" He wonders quietly.

"The uhm.. you know. Sex part." You stammer out.

"I really don't need it." He chuckles. "Might be hard to grasp but if you don't want it I won't bother you with it."

"I want to." You say. It's dead quiet for a moment before you continue. "Like.. how you said. You know, start small, and all that." Tou explain.

"Okay." He answers after a moment. "Right now?" He asks. You nod.

"I just.. don't know what to do. And I didn't shave- oh God okay no maybe some other day then-" you ramble, he laughs.

"Who cares if you shave?" He jokes easily. "Its fine by me. I don't mind it." He tells you.

"You're weird." You cringe a bit. "Guys don't like that-"

"Maybe you've just met idiots then." He shrugs. "I'm honest here. I don't care if you shave or not. You could dye that hair downstairs pink, who am I to tell you what your body has to look like?" He scoffs playfully, making you laugh a little.

This is why you like him. He's easy. Simple. Comfortable.

"Do you want me to use something? Or just my hand?" He wonders quietly, and you just shrug.

"I wanna.. you know. Know if I like what you do." You offer, and he hums an affirmative reply at that, hand under the covers feeling for your thigh.

"You can stop me at any time." He almost whispers. "It won't be awkward, I promise." He assures, and you nod, letting his palm explore under the covers. You're not sure if he's careful or just plain teasing- but most of all, it's strangely exciting.

He moves you a bit, pulls you closer, eyes searching for ant signs of discomfort. "Jungkook..?" You ask quietly, and he chuckles a bit before nodding. "..can you uhm.. maybe kiss me?" You wonder, and there's no reaction for a moment, until he moves again, adjusts himself so he can properly angle himself, lips meeting yours carefully so.

The first one feels weird. You're unsure. You lift your head in a moment if bravery to try again, and it gets more comfortable.

It's nice.

He seems amused, but not at you - more at the fact that you're a lot more independent than you might've thought you'd be in a situation like this.

You're leading him. You're probably not aware, but your body language and responses all speak clearly to him about what you enjoy and what you don't. At first, he stops any advances, but you whine for him to continue. "Just.. cold hands."

"Sorry." He chuckles. "My fingers are pretty cold sometimes." He jokes. You nod, breathing a bit heavier now as soon as his hands warm up, slowly traveling underneath your underwear, middle finger easily finding your most sensitive spot. "Feeling good?" He wonders, and you nod, squirming around a bit.

"More." You ask, moving around a little, seemingly unsure where to put your limbs. He's doing it very differently from how you'd do it- but it's nice. He's making you feel good, not just in lust, but also in general.

There really isn't anything weird about it.

Or maybe your brain is just a bit foggy.

You want to stop him suddenly, feeling too sensitive, and he does halter his movements to check in with you. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Weird. Sensitive- I.. don't know." You say. "I feel like I'm gonna pee or something." You say.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before?" He wonders, and you suddenly think. Have you? You're not sure.

"I.. don't know." You say.

"Hm." He cocks his head to the side a little, amused look on his face. "Lets see then." He almost challenges, resuming his activities, making you squirm yet again as you feel like something might be happening. Your back arches, and suddenly, you're not sure why you can't help but gasp out, his movements perfectly stable as pleasure rolls over you in waves. "There we go." He laughs, watching as you slowly come back down.

"Thank you.." you say breathlessly, before cringing at the sight of his glistening hand. "Uhm.. do you want me to do something too.?"

"It's okay." He says. "I've enjoyed watching you. That's enough." Jungkook chuckles, before pulling back the covers. "No, clean up. I gotta wash my hand and change too." He laughs, slapping your thigh with his clean hand.

"Change?" You wonder, standing up and cringing at the slippery feeling between your legs.

"I told you." He laughs, and only now do you notice a wet spot on his sweatpants as he'd turned on the lights. "I really enjoyed myself as well."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He's warm.

His arm lays heavy over your body, breathing soft and barely noticeable on the skin of your neck. Jungkook has slept close to you the entire night, didn't mind when you stole the blanket from him it seems. He's holding onto you, face clear of any worry, no muscle tensed as he sleeps.

He slowly seems to wake up, pulls you closer for a moment as he stretches his limbs and back, before his tired eyes open. "Hey." He greets with a raspy voice.

"Hey." You quietly greet back. He chuckles.

"How do you feel?" He wonders, pulling you closer with a sleepy grin.

"Good. Happy." You say.

"In love?" He wonders.

You nod.

And he smiles, brighter than the sun already high up in the sky outside your window.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[jjungkookislife]

Lonely Night

♡ pairing: hfth!jungkook x f. reader

♡ genre: established relationship, fluff, [18+]

♡ summary: It's your first night alone without Jungkook at your side.

♡ wc: 2.2k

♡ warnings: food mention, mention of spiraling

♡ date: January 26, 2024

♡ series masterlist

Winter break ends faster than you realize. Jungkook and you hadn’t had a chance to see the house Grandmother Jeon had gifted him. 

“Mom!” Jungkook whines with a pout on his pretty pink lips.

You giggle as you take the second large bag of food she hands you.

“We have more than enough,” Jungkook insists as a third, smaller bag was pressed to his chest.

“You can never have enough,” Aera insists as she walks you to the door, where Seokjin and Jimin wait in the car.

“Share with your friends,” Aera waves as Jimin takes the bag from you while Jungkook hugs his mother tightly. “And call me when you get there.”

“I will, Mom. I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay?” Jungkook kisses his mother’s cheek and takes a step back as you approach.

“Oh, sweetheart! It was so nice meeting you,” Aera is nearly in tears as she wraps you up in a tight hug. “Call any time! Come visit whenever.”

“I will. I promise,” you say as she gives you one more squeeze. Dae stands on the porch, waving at the two of you as Aera cries. 

“Honey, the kids will be back before long,” Dae comforts her, rubbing her back as she places her head on his chest. 

“Momma Jeon,” Jimin hollers. “We love you!”

Aera laughs wetly through her tears, waving at Jimin and Seokjin as you and Jungkook climb in the car. Seokjin has his playlist loaded, and ready to go and Jungkook is quick to hand you an earbud the moment your seatbelt clicks.

When Seokjin pulls out of the Jeon’s driveway, he starts belting Christmas carols again.

“Just because the holidays ended, doesn’t mean the spirit has passed,” Seokjin states firmly as he keeps his gaze on the road. 

Jimin slumps in his seat, his noise-canceling headphones doing their job, a present from you and Jungkook. 

In the car in front of you, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok pass around snacks from their parents. Mrs. Park and Mrs. Jeon made them a special batch for the trip back home and the men were digging in greedily. 

“Next time I’ll drive us up here,” Jungkook assures you as he laces his fingers with yours. 

“We carpool!” Seokjin interrupts, his eyes locked on Jungkook’s in the rearview mirror. 

“Yes, sir!” Jungkook responds before giggling beside you. Seokjin rolls his eyes but smiles fondly as he catches your gaze. He winks at you before his eyes return to the road, and he belts out a high note rivaling Mariah Carey’s.

Impressive.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” Seokjin asks for the third time as he helps Jungkook unload the trunk. 

Jimin got dropped off first a few minutes ago, and now Seokjin was at Jungkook’s apartment. 

“It’s no big deal,” Seokjin assures you, but you shake your head. 

“Jungkook and I are gonna split Momma Jeon’s food,” you grin as Jungkook takes his luggage to the porch and returns for yours. 

“Alright,” Seokjin nods as he hugs you. “I’ll text when I get home.”

You return his hug before Jungkook joins in, squeezing the both of you before Seokjin licks Jungkook’s cheek. 

“Ugh!” Jungkook wipes his cheek with the back of his hand. “Must you?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I brushed.”

You laugh as Seokjin gets in his car and drives away. Jungkook flips him off before turning to you.

“I call dibs on the brownie bites,” he smirks. 

“Hey! Seojun made those for me!” You exclaim but Jungkook is already running to the front door to claim his prize while you run after him, laughing into the home.

Jungkook clings to you as you head for the door. A pout on his lips as he snuggles into your shoulder. 

“Are you sure you have to go?” He asks for the third time in five minutes. 

You’ve divided the brownie bites, most of the leftovers, and stolen two of his sweatshirts that you stuffed in your suitcase. 

“I have to get back to my dorm room,” you remind him as he kisses your cheek. 

The last time you were in his apartment you were still fake dating. Now that you were dating for real, it felt more comfortable for you to laze around with him. Plus, you got to cuddle in his bed with him for a little while, but now you had to head back to the dorm. 

Laundry was calling, and you had to prepare for the start of the semester in a few days. 

“I know,” Jungkook sighs in resignation as he takes your suitcase and wheels it onto the porch. You slide your shoes on while he pockets his keys and helps you out of his apartment.

A few minutes later, he rolls your suitcase to your dorm. You thank him with a kiss on his lips. 

“I’ll let you get settled, baby,” Jungkook smiles as he hugs you again. “I’ll text when I’m home. We can have breakfast tomorrow.”

“I’d love that,” you grin as you kiss his lips again before he leaves you be. 

You get in the shower minutes later. However, it’s not until you’re getting dressed in one of Jungkook’s sweaters and a pair of comfy pajama pants that the realization hits you. 

You miss him. 

You spent nearly three weeks sleeping in his arms, and now you were in your bed alone, staring at the ceiling. The semester hasn’t even started yet. How would you get through it?

Sighing, you do your best to fall asleep.

Hours later, you’re still tossing and turning. You’re miserable as you huff and stare blankly at the ceiling. You didn’t think it would be this difficult to sleep without Jungkook beside you. Even his snoring would lull you to bed tonight.

You love the way he looked when he slept. His cute lips were still in a pout as he snored beside you. His body was like a furnace when he wrapped around you, always snuggled into your side for warmth and comfort. 

How long would it take you to fall asleep without him? How long could you go without him at your side? 

This was something you’d have to get used to though. You were still early into your relationship, and your dorm room was yours for the semester. You couldn’t abandon it to run to Jungkook’s arms every night. You didn’t want to rush but you also missed being around him day in and day out. 

Your phone rings on the nightstand where you left it to charge before you showered. You turn on your side and reach for it, not surprised to see your boyfriend calling. 

“Hey baby,” he says softly once you answer. He’s in bed with the covers up to his shoulder, but you can see a bit of skin when he pulls his pillow closer. 

“Hey,” you greet him, ignoring the sadness in your chest. 

“In bed already?” He asks with a teasing smile. 

“It’s cold,” you laugh as you pull the covers closer. 

“Is that my sweater?” He laughs when he spots the logo on your chest. You rush to cover it with your blanket, and Jungkook laughs harder. 

“I may have borrowed it,” you explain. “Without asking.”

“It looks better on you anyway,” Jungkook smiles as he takes in your soft smile and the way your eyes sparkle even in the dim light of your dorm room. 

“I think so too,” you stick your tongue out at him, and he does the same. Your heart flutters and your stomach fills with butterflies. He was your boyfriend now. Yours. The thought makes you nearly swoon but then the sadness seeps in. Slowly first, and then it seems to seep into your bones until it fills your very core. 

Suddenly, your throat burns like an inferno as you try to swallow the sickly feeling of loneliness. Were you being ridiculous missing him so soon? Was this too much too fast? 

“Darling?” Jungkook whispers with concern etched on his forehead in between his furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, clearing your throat. 

Jungkook can tell from your tone and your sudden change in demeanor that you’re lying. 

“Talk to me, baby,” he encourages gently. 

“It’s dumb,” you try once more to wave off his concern as you sniffle. Dammit. 

Jungkook frowns. “Nothing you could ever say is dumb. You don’t have to tell me if you truly don’t want to, but I am here for you if you wanna talk.”

You nod, biting your lower lip as you debate telling him. 

A heavy sigh slips past your lips. “I miss you.”

Jungkook’s taken aback. That’s not what he expected you to say, but only because he was sure you were ending things between you now that you were home. Okay, maybe he had been spiraling a little before he called you but only because he missed you desperately. His empty bed wasn’t the same without you in it and he didn’t want to overstep by asking you to stay the night or a few nights at his side. 

Hell, he’d ask you to move in if he was sure he wouldn’t get shut down. 

“I miss you too, darling. That’s actually why I called,” he admits bashfully. 

“Oh?”

Jungkook nods, his hair falling over his eyes. You smile at him through your phone. 

“I was wondering if you could sleep at my place tonight,” he pauses. “O-or I could go to your dorm.”

You remain silent as the fluttering in your chest grows rapidly.

“Or not, if you’re not comfortable,” Jungkook rushes when you don’t respond immediately. “We could just forget I said anything.”

“Jungkook,” you say his name softly with a smile. 

“Come pick me up in ten minutes, okay?”

Jungkook nods excitedly with a smile. “Yeah! Totally! I’ll be right over, babe.”

“Drive safe, Koo. I’ll grab a bag of my things and wait for you, okay?”

“Yes, baby. I’ll see you in a bit,” Jungkook blows you a kiss before he hangs up. 

You kick the covers off of you as you grab a duffel bag and pack your things.

A second later your phone dings.

[Kookie 🖤🍪🖤] babe, pack some extra clothes

[Kookie 🖤🍪🖤]  I cleared a drawer for you in my room 🥺

You squeal in excitement! Why was your boyfriend the cutest? You want to laugh and cry at the same time but you sniffle and respond to his text before running around your room to pack your bag.

Ten minutes later, you meet Jungkook at the entrance of your dorm. He smiles brightly when he sees you.

“Hi, baby,” he greets you with a kiss on your cheek before he takes your bag and slings it over his left shoulder. His tattooed hand reaches for yours as you greet him.

“Sorry for getting you out of bed so late, darling,” Jungkook apologizes as he opens the car door for you and waits until you’re buckled in to shut it. He opens the back door and places your bag on the seat before shutting the door and jogging to the driver’s side.

“Jungkook,” you grab his hand before he starts the car. You wait until he meets your gaze. “I missed you. I don’t think I could have slept without you beside me and I’m glad you called. I’m glad you came to get me. Don’t apologize.”

The smile on Jungkook’s face makes your heart flutter as he cups your face and leans forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss is slow, unrushed, and passionate as he deepens it and his hand grips your thigh. You moan softly when he tugs lightly on your bottom lip before releasing it and ending the kiss.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers with one last peck to your lips. 

Jungkook folds your clothes as you get ready for bed. He places them in the drawer he’s cleared for you with a smile and a flutter of his heart. He’s got a purple toothbrush in the bathroom for you beside his black one. 

When you climb into his bed, he lets you cuddle your favorite stuffed animal of his. 

“Good night, baby,” you whisper as he wraps his arm around your waist and the purple bat you’ve chosen to cuddle in front of you. 

Jungkook kisses your shoulder, his hand gently rubbing your hip. 

“Good night, darling,” he replies. And it is a good night. A very good night as he sleeps soundly beside you. 

In the morning he’ll wake up well-rested with you snuggled in his chest, your leg twined with his and he’ll watch you sleep for a while. His fingers will gently brush your hair out of the way, and he’ll trace the curve of your lips with his thumb.

Jungkook will wonder how he’ll sleep tonight without you at his side, how he’ll sleep this peacefully with you nestled in your dorm room.

However, one day he’ll wake beside you and know the two of you never have to part again. 

For now, he’ll focus on your time spent together in bed, on your soft breaths and cute face pressed into his chest. He’ll rub your back gently, and picture the rest of your lives together. 

[ilys00ga]

hellooo, ur blog is such a comfort for me <3 ! can i request yoongi meeting reader who’s quite literally the same person as him. he could’ve met the reader through one of the members trying to hook them up. “you two are so alike it’s scary, i think you’d be a match made in heaven”. so yoongi agrees..eventually. but when he meets the reader, it’s horrible! their similar personalities clash in the worst way possible. it’s pretty funny to everyone, because they totally thought they were in matchmaker mode?? the two constantly talk about how they couldn’t stand each other, so it surprised everyone when yoongi just admitted that he’d and the reader had been dating for a few months after their first meeting. loll

A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN.

pairing: yoongi x reader.

genre: fluff, i tried to make it funny loool, best friends to lovers, non idol au (?), non idol!yoongi, non idol!jimin, non idol!namjoon, jimin is the dramatic bestie and namjoon is just the very supportive friend that's happy to be there.

warnings: this is pure fiction and English is not my first language.

A/N: okay so, there was also this one ask I got from @parkjennykim that says: "Hiiii ❤️ hope this finds you well. Could you write a fluffy bsf to lovers with yoongi? Theres hardly any of those out there 😭 i need some fluff ive been too deprived and depressed".

I thought these two were similar so I decided to merge them, I hope that's ok for both of u :). thank u sm for sending these reqs, I really appreciate it and I hope u enjoy this read. do not hesitate to send more if u want to !

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“I'm sorry, WHAT?!” Jimin, who’d been slouched on the couch with his head leaning against its rolled arm, sat up straight and goggle-eyed as soon as he heard what Yoongi had said.

The latter only rolled his eyes, not surprised one bit at his friend’s dramatic reaction. In fact, he expected it to be so much worse, but he guessed the younger one was just too tired that day for all of that. “don’t be loud.” he hissed and crossed his arms.

“hyung, are you serious?” Namjoon asked from where he was sitting with his chopsticks hanging in the air near his mouth as he too was stunned by the eldest’s statement.

“why the hell would i lie and say that me and __ have been dating for almost two months now?” Yoongi muttered through narrowed his eyes. "TWO MONTHS- woah, this is crazy. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” The youngest of the three covered his face with his hands and heaved a big, disappointed sigh.

“Seriously, why is he so annoying today?”

Namjoon chuckled as the older continued side eyeing their dongsaeng, “hyung, he’s just really happy for you. I too am.”

“I’m very happy, yes, but, hyung, how could you hide such a thing from me? I literally helped you grow the balls to ask her out.” Jimin whined and slouched back down on the couch with a growing pout, “I've been waiting for you two to get together for months.”

It's true, Jimin was a man on a mission ever since he’d noticed the insanely similar character traits when you and your (now) boyfriend met for the very first time. two individual human beings but the exact same patterns and edges. on a large scale, talking to you always felt like talking to Yoongi and vice versa.

It was like a game to him. It made him buzz with excitement, reminding himself every now and then to keep a close eye and count all the similarities you two shared. not that it was hard to notice to begin with: having almso the exact same taste (especially in music), always sitting silently when being around other people and speaking little amounts of words when necessary, getting flustered and smiling shyly when being complimented, being chill and too soft to scold or yell at anyone (most of the time), having that same slow tone in your voices whenever you talk, having random bursts of energy or playful teasing despite the cold facade both of you display, getting so talkative when it comes to topics and things you’re so passionate about, being very honest but never too rude or offensive about it, being the most hardworking people jimin has probably ever met in his entire life—something that nevers fails to admire about the two of you.

You and Yoongi were so similar, even your bad habits and red flags matched. When setting your mind on finishing a task—say a project for example—you’d wear your bodies out for the sake of completing it, even if it meant you’d stay up several hours late during the night. and when mad or during intense clashes and arguments, you would put thick walls between you and the other person, ignoring and shutting them out until you're human enough to confront them. sometimes it’s too hard to even apologize, instead, you’d slowly start approaching them as if nothing had happened at all.

“No wonder you two ended up together, you’re basically a match made in heaven.” Namjoon nodded his head as he munched on his food, as if approving of his own statement.

“i know! and the way you wasted your time pinning on each other was killing me.” being the biggest shipper of your pair, Jimin huffed as he spoke with a very serious tone.

“how did you guys even make it?” namjoon asked.

“We hit it off right after the first date.” Yoongi answered with a shrug, acting as nonchalant as ever.

“you mean the date i had set for you?” it was jimin who asked this time, and when Yoongi nodded in confirmation, the younger groaned and buried his face into the couch, “hyung, you are seriously the worst.”

“hyung, you both are coffee addicts, take her to a new café this time!” Jimin suggested with a huge grin on his face. after finding out that you two secretly liked each other, he spent weeks pressuring Yoongi to confess his feelings for you. He couldn’t believe that his hyung finally obliged after many “no”s and “I don’t like __ that way.”s and “we’re just friends.”s. it was getting really annoying.

YG: “Can we hang out tomorrow? as two people wanting to know each other.”

ME: “Are you asking me on a date?”

YG: “yeah?”

ME: “okay :)”

that was the conversation you had with him the day before he took you on a cute café date. The place was impressively good, but the date was the complete opposite of that. Nothing bad happened, yet sitting down with someone you’ve known for a good period of time and have shared good amounts of vulnerability with in that intimate context was too unpleasant. Both of you struggled to find comfort and normality in the heavy awkward silence that fell on the table. and everytime he would try to play it off and throw some joke or normal piece of conversation that he found appropriate for a date, you two ended up laughing int your sweaty palms because of how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“stop laughing!” Yoongi exclaimed while his shoulders shook, giggling.

“I'm sorry, I'm trying!” you wiped at the corners of your eyes.

"Just act like this is a normal hangout.." he had said after a short moment.

"We're literally on a date." you reminded him.

“right..”

The “date” didn’t last long, and the two of you ended up at his house. eating popcorn on his couch and watching your favorite series of movies together.

Later that night, he asked, “so, what are we?”

“whatever you want us to be.” you answered with flushed cheeks.

“I like you..” he whispered, eyes never leaving the TV screen acroos the couch, "more than friends should like one another."

“Great, ‘cause I'd be sad if you didn’t like me back.” you whispered back, never daring to glance his way even for a split of a second.

“Wait, does that mean I won the bet?” Namjoon suddenly spoke, making Jimin kick him lightly on the shoulder from where he was still lying with a sour frown, and toss a few dollars he had grabbed from his wallet at the smiling man's extended palm.

“Did you two seriously make a bet on my relationship?” came a sharp question from Yoongi.

[linos-luna]

Anything for You ❣️☁️

Soft Dom!Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: making out, soft slow sex, soft dom Namjoon, some groping, stripping

——————————— 🌱———————————

A bike ride through nature and visit to an art museum. What more could he ask for? You had planned a whole day for Namjoon’s birthday. By the end of it, you were both tired but you still had more to finish the night.

You made a small cake and watched as he blew out the candles. You also loved his happy reaction when opening up your gifts. It was some books that he’s been looking to buy! You always seemed to know exactly what he wants.

And now it’s time to wind down. After getting into more comfy clothes, you turned on an interesting documentary and made some tea.

♡ .

“Babygirl?”

“Yes Joonie?”

“I had a good day today.” He said with a smile while patting his lap, indicating that he wants you to sit there.

“I’m glad.” You giggled while situating yourself on his lap. “Anything to make you happy.”

“Anything?” He said with a tease while lightly rubbing your thigh.

“Mmhm. Anything.” You said while giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

Namjoon chuckled as he held your cheek and kissed you back.

His hand was so warm as it cupped your cheek and his kisses full of love and passion. He may be a tall muscular man but he’s really a softie. So gentle and loving. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Your boyfriend reached under your shirt and felt around your small breasts.

Adorable and cute he thought.

You were a little embarrassed as he didn’t have much to grab onto but he didn’t care. Instead he would continue roaming his hands around your body.

His hands touching you everywhere was getting you worked up especially when touching your sensitive thighs. He caught on pretty quick and continued rubbing closer and closer to your inner thigh.

“Can you take this off for me, babygirl?” He said softly while tugging at your pants. “Slowly.”

You nodded and stood up to do so. Slowly pulling down your pants before pausing at your underwear, waiting for the next instruction.

“Panties off too.” He said a little more sternly.

“Yes Joonie.” You replied with a nod while doing so. You were a little embarrassed when realizing how wet your cunt already was.

“Come here, pretty girl.” Hw said with a smile while holding out his arms.

When standing close to him, Namjoon lifted your shirt over your head, removing and tossing it to a side. He stopped to admire your form, rubbing your sides as if to soothe you. You felt a little more at ease as he gave you some more gentle kisses.

“Twirl around for me, babygirl.” He said while gesturing with his hand. As you did so, he removed his pants and you could see his hardening cock through his boxers.

He laid you on the couch and lowered his boxers, teasing your wet cunt with his cock. You whimpered at the feeling..

“Are you ready, pretty girl?”

“Yes Joonie.” You replied with your heart pounding.

Namjoon nodded before entering you and holding still for a moment so you can get used to his size. You gasped when he did so, the feeling already so overwhelming.

After a bit, he gently thrust a few times while kissing you. He pushed his tongue in as he gave his loving kisses. You were already moaning with your eyes rolled back. His size was so overwhelmingly big that you could feel yourself becoming easily overstimulated. He wasn’t rough at all yet you found yourself feeling so blissful. Your mind devoid of other thoughts and only focused on the man in front of you, He wasn’t even going that fast as he wanted to passionately make love.

“You’re doing good for me, babygirl.” He said while slowing down, hitting that sweet spot just right. “You’re going to please me tonight, right?”

“Yes Joonie~” you moaned.

“You’re gonna be my good girl?” He said softly.

“Yes Joonie.” You said in a breathy voice while feeling your hips stutter, knowing you’re about to cum soon.

Namjoon came before you did and played with your hair as you reached that high as well.

Namjoon admired you. So fucked out. Like a little princess.

“Sweet girl. I’ll give you a moment before we continue.” He said while kissing your cheek. “Thank you.”

Although still in a state of bliss, you smiled while looking up at his loving smile. “Anything for you, Joonie.

[mylovejimimi]

The Kims, your breeding problem | SJ & NJ TWO SHOT PT. 1.5

— PAIRING: mafiaboss!seokjin x mafiaboss!namjoon x mafiaprincess!reader — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: omg none? sorry i didn't include much smut in this one, i didn't have much inspiration so i just made this to add a little context and to move the plot forwards. — SUMMARY: Desperate to save your empire and your name, you walk into the lion's den with a plan. Turns out those two lions had a plan of their own, and now you're the piece of meat they had been so starved for. — WORDS: 6k >>> You can read part 1 here <<< Soooooo it's been a while lol I have so many things to do omg but i'm happy i can give you something, even if is a little lame like this continuation lmao I swear to bring you something much better in the next one, pls forgive my dry mind and busy life, ilyyyy Please remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ And as always, i look forward your thoughts on this. Enjoy !

Namjoon had picked an interest in you since he started in the whole crime business thing. You were big in that circle, more for yourself than for your family’s history. News always carried your name around, and then, one day, he had the luck to run into you in one party.

Back then, he was an orphaned eighteen years old whose only chance at life was to be a construction worker or a bouncer at a club, given his prominent height and overall bigger frame. Somehow, he ended up being a bodyguard at the service of some minor drug lord that loomed the outskirts of Seoul; he saw all kind of illegalities at work but could be proud of having never participate in any of them. However, any little remaining morals he had were thrown out of the window the day his boss was invited to a big party – the party your father was hosting.

The opulence of your mansion left his jaw on the floor. There weren’t that many people, but the power and easiness all of them exuded left him green with envy: no one there knew what was to have bellyaches because of how hungry you were to get sick for eating moldy food from the trash and having no hospital that would treat you, to fight to death with people that wanted to rob you or take advantage of you. None of them had lived a single tragedy, none of them even had to worry for breaking the law to survive and the possibility of prison time because all those people were over the law. It angered him; that party got him so furious to the point that he almost resolved to get out of that business, out of that circle of rich people, and start over as a fisherman in the sea or something like that. Or just go and jump under a train.

Just when he was about to turn around and leave, he saw you. There you were, appearing in a cinematic sequence: strutting down the staircase in your flowy, red dress, while all eyes were on you. You were in the spotlight, as always; shining more than any of the dresses and expensive jewelry being worn there. You had all the power in the world and you knew it, of course; he could see it in your prepotent smile, your ruthless eyes, your arrogant vibe. Only nineteen years old, but you showed so much promise and hunger for more – didn’t even hope for more, you just naturally expected it, felt entitled to more.

You were also very beautiful physically – he felt attracted to you like everyone else, after all –, but the poise and status you had entranced Namjoon beyond words. He decided he was going to be just like you, or even better. He was going to have all the power in the world. He was going to have you.

Seokjin, on the other hand, had always been lurking around you. Waiting. Plotting. Achieving.

In the beginning, he was the good guy. He was a nice kid, introverted yet polite and pretty smart. His family had served yours since your grandfather began his incursions into morally questioning matters. He was born into the same opulence you were, but it wasn’t his. He had traveled with you, and get to know many places far away, but as a servant. He had dinner every night on the same table as you, but he was the one picking up the rests of food you threw on the floor maliciously.

Each and every time he had to clean after you, carry your things around and put up with your whims and spoiled bitch tantrums. Insults, degrading words, and even objects were shoot his way by you any time of the day for any random reason. No other family member of his was treated as poorly as him, and no one knew why you picked on him. But he put up with all of it from birth until he turned fifteen.

Seokjin was a nice kid, but he always had a short temper, and each time it was more and more difficult to contain himself around you and your shit attitude. He tried, tried, tried but one awful day, you were in a bad humor and went to punch your favorite sandbag – him – who was in a worse humor.

That one time, you were both teens and full of hormones, each one dealing with their own teenage problems. You hated all you had to do to be better than your brother, please your parents and gain a second of their precious attention; Seokjin hated you and how he was chained to you to be your slave for God knows how long. You made his life miserable, always reminding him how worthless and stupid he was, how useless for society he was since he was so damn poor and dumb. You had said to him once – after sniffing a little crush on you from his part – that you could never give him a chance no matter how hot he gets because he would always be the same pathetic, useless bastard good for nothing but cleaning her shit; and that was exactly what he was remembering while washing your dishes when you came running to him at the scream of ‘you piece of shit!’. A crystal glass flew your way, followed by a plate, another glass and a ‘shut the fuck up for once, stupid bitch!’

After the big scandal you made in front of everybody – your parents, his parents and other employees of the mansion – your father gave Seokjin’s father an ultimatum: the violent little shit that almost hurt their precious girl gets lost before morning or all of them lose their jobs and get wiped out the face of the planet. Needless to say, within an hour, Seokjin was chased out of the residential neighborhood by your father’s thugs.

He wasn’t homeless for long; knowing the people in the business, he was linked by somebody to the same druglord that, years later, employed Namjoon. The old criminal took a liking in him when he saw his thirst for blood, his recklessness, his egocentrism; Seokjin was afraid of nothing now that he decided he wanted revenge and nothing else. So, he learned the ways, the ins and outs, and soon enough he befriended Namjoon, forming an alliance with him to overthrow the old drug master and start their own illegal enterprise.

Years working, years scheming, both with very different motivations but the same target: you.

…

Stirring up from sleep, you were disoriented for a good amount of time. You opened your eyes and set them on the ceiling but didn’t move, feeling soreness taking over your body from your feet to the last hair of your head. When you tried to move your arms and couldn’t was when you remembered where you were, and realized that your hands were tied again. You groaned.

As you were thinking what to do next, a snore interrupted your train of thought. At your right, Namjoon slept soundly on his back, snoring from time to time. At your left, Seokjin slept on his side with a frown on his pretty features – and both assholes had their sweats on and let you stark naked. Was it that they trust you enough to sleep with you or they were just dumb? Though, you were tied up, really sore, naked, and unarmed, so you weren’t exactly a threat.

Moving as little as you were capable while depleted of energy and having your hands literally tied, you sat yourself against the headboard and waited until the men woke up.

Did they really mean it when they said they wanted to make you pregnant? Had they read your mind? Because that was exactly what you had in mind.

After years watching your father wreak havoc everywhere he went, you realized his method wasn’t the most efficient always. Murdering the enemy to take their place? That’s how you conquered kingdoms in the Medieval Era, but not in the modern day; not when your enemy was as elusive and as informed as you. The many ‘surprise attacks’ your father orchestrated failed miserably, resulting in many of his men killed and his enemies to declare revenge against him. That was how your family was losing all its former power and glory, how you were losing money and influence. But you were smarted than that.

“Look who just woke up.” Seokjin groaned once he heard your voice, hosting a frown even before opening his eyes fully. “Prince Charming, the father of my child.”

“You’re fucking insane” the man muttered, sitting on the bed and looking at you in disbelief. “Aren’t you even the littlest bit worried about being held captive and forced to give birth? I can’t fucking believe you.”

“I told you there was no one like me.” You grinned proudly at him. “Besides, you’re hot enough to not ruin my good genes, so maybe I’ll give you a chance for the sake of my linage.” You expected him to tell you to shut up or something along the lines but it was radio silent. You saw Seokjin’s face transform in a second; his previous grimace turned in a stoic seriousness and he looked at you dead in the eye, with the coldest stare anyone has ever directed your way. His reaction did spark a little worry in you.

“What did you just say?” he asked in a mutter while taking hold of your arm, gripping it hard.

“Hey, this isn’t –”

“What did you just say – give me a chance?” he repeated with the same neutral tone through clenched teeth.

“Okay, chill, I’ll resist and kick and scream or whatever, no need to –” He interrupted you by pulling you close to his face, which sported a lethal scowl. His clutch on your arm tightened to the point you were sure it would bruise, but you were pretty shocked by the change in his whole persona to react accordingly.

“You don’t know who I am? You still don’t know who the fuck I am?”

“A fucking Kim? I don’t know what you want me to say, dude.”

“Fucking bitch! After all you fucking did to me!” the man yelled on your face, now shaking you aggressively. You refrained yourself from yelping and showing signs of fear, but the reality was that, this time, he was genuinely scaring you. What was he on? You hadn’t known him personally until that night. What could you had possibly done to him?

Namjoon woke up from all the scandal his brother was making; however, instead of being surprised and maybe even stop him, he just sat there rubbing his eyes, watching the scene unfold with a frown. Immutable, he saw how Seokjin left your arm alone and went for your hair, using it as leverage to make you stand on your knees when he stood up from the bed.

“I’m Kim Seokjin, that name doesn’t ring a bell?” The sting on your scalp made you groan but that wasn’t the answer Seokjin was looking for. “Answer me!” he demanded. Disoriented, you shook your head no, making him scoff. “Of course, it doesn’t. You made my life a fucking nightmare but you didn’t even bother to remember my name.”

“Man, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about –” And it was the truth. You didn’t have a clue of what he was accusing you of. You were far from an angel, that’s for sure; you had made many people suffer and turned many lives into a living hell, but Seokjin’s? You would remember fucking up his life. You would definitely remember a man like him.

“It’s so cruel that you don’t remember him, baby” Namjoon added calmly while lounging there on the bed, watching you like he was on the beach just admiring the waves of the sea –so unfazed by his brother’s outburst. It can’t be that serious, you thought. “He was that kid with glasses that worked in your house. You know, the one you kept fucking over? Your pet or whatever.” Your clueless face was the last straw for Seokjin, who threw you onto the bed with force. You grumbled when all your weight fell on your hands at your back but none of them cared. Your scalp still burned from Seokjin’s strong hold.

“I’ll make you remember me, stupid bitch” he promised through clenched teeth as his hands tugged brutishly the waistband of his sweatpants. Maybe it was the good shaking Seokjin gave you and the following toss, maybe it was the insult, but suddenly a light bulb went on in your head and you recalled who the man had been in your life.

“Wait, you’re that whiny bitch that almost kill me.” The older Kim clenched his jaw and pulled your body by the legs to his own standing in the side of the bed. You scoffed, putting all pieces together at last. “That’s the reason why I’m here? Seriously? It’s been more than ten years already, man, just get over it.” Now that you knew what was going on, it didn’t even surprise you when he took hold of your face abruptly. It was always so funny to you just how men would turn into villains because a girl was mean to them when they were twelve. “Wait, wait, let me be the bigger person here: I’m sorry, okay? I had always been a spoiled bitch and all that, but who could have taught me manners in that house? I was raised by literal criminals.”

“I couldn’t care less for your fucking reasons; you were more than a bitch back then and are a nuisance in the present. I should have busted your head open that night.” Albeit his menacing words, you didn’t perceive the threatening energy they should deliver. If anything, Seokjin seemed annoyed by his revenge. Reasonable, you thought, he had stretched it this long it, it’s no longer fun.

“Well, as I said before, just kill me now and finish with your fourteen or fifteen-years-old vendetta.”

“I promised Namjoon he would have you.” Still immobilized by Seokjin’s hand, you looked at the mentioned man by the corner of your eye; he gave you a wink and a smirk. That… you didn’t mind that. “And, as I said before, killing you would be the easy way out. You have to go through what I did and pay with your body.” A spark warmed your insides when his unoccupied hand cupped your breast – however, you still had a deal to seal.

“As tempting as a life being your sex slave sounds, I have other plans.” Disregarding you completely, the older brother started kneading your breasts with both hands. Namjoon joined him taking you by the armpits and yanking you up the mattress into a sitting position against his chest. “You said I was a nuisance, why?” A miscommunication happened between the brothers, because, while Seokjin remained silent with the intention of ignoring you so you would eventually shut up and know your place, Namjoon, who liked you, spoke up.

“You’re too strong. Your pussy has some kind of magic that makes men be loyal to death to you. The most powerful won’t let go.”

“Goddamn, Namjoon. Why are you telling her that?”

“She’s not going anywhere, hyung, this information is useless now. Besides, I’m wifing her and it isn’t nice to hide things from my spouse, don’t you think, baby?” You turned your head to give him a tight smile. It was dangerous to trust any of them, but there was at least one snake in that snakes’ pit that wasn’t going to bit you that hard – or even bite you at all, if you were nice enough to it.

“The fuck are you saying, Namjoon? This is not a damn rom-com.” Seokjin looked way too annoyed at his brother’s excuses, and you thought that maybe it was more personal than it seemed, and maybe your hypothetical wedlock had something to do with it – though, it would be illogical to you if a man like Seokjin felt anything but bitterness.

“And so what? My life is not all about crime and money, I want a family too, man.” His brother scoffed and rolled his eyes. Namjoon wasn’t someone that took offense in things that easily; however, he lived for irritating his hyung. “Sorry not everybody is as miserable and unlovable as you. I’m actually a pretty decent guy.”

“What a load of crap.” Seokjin let go of your body and stood up. “You turned me off with all that bullshit. So whatever, I don’t feel like using this bitch now.” Expecting him to turn around and leave the room, you were surprised when he went to the mini bar in the room, poured himself a drink and sat on the sofa in front of the bed.

“What, you’re going to watch us?”

“What else is there to do? I’m not leaving you with this simp. He is likely to let you go with a kiss on the forehead. Fucking cuck.”

“Well, this bitch doesn’t feel like being used now.” You looked briefly to the man behind you, to see if he was on your side even the slightest. He was not.

“You really think you’re calling the shots here, dear?” Seokjin clicked his tongue in disappointment. “We have a lot of training to do with you. Hoseok! Jungkook!” he shouted. In an instant, two men dressed in black entered the room solemnly; not a single emotion on their faces when they saw your naked body. “You will give all of us a show now. Learn that I decide what you do and who watches you doing it.”

When Namjoon secured his strong arm around your waist and descended a hand on your folds, you knew there wasn’t a way out but obeying that bitter asshole.

…

It was very difficult to find someone in the circle Namjoon moved in. He had already experienced three attempts of murder with beautiful women as bait, and an endless number of pseudo-dates with gold diggers. He wasn’t romantic per se, but he did yearn for an authentic, loving relationship, and a big family as a result – and you, that didn’t need his money because you had much more than him nor could kill him while being their hostage, were the very possible solution to his problem.

Namjoon’s desire to have a family wasn’t always as evident as in that point of his life, when he got all the financial power and influence he once dreamed of. Although life was great and all for him, he realized a feeling of hollowness that no amount of money, designer clothes or prostitutes could fill, or even conceal. Not anymore, at least.

He was smart enough to trace that desire back to his lack of a family since birth, and even admitted to himself that he needed tight bonds in the present as much as he had needed them when he was three or fifteen years old. It was not easy, however, to open himself completely to meet someone for an authentic, loving relationship. How to let himself be loved if no one had ever loved him? As uncomfortable as the feeling was, he needed to feel loved. He needed to be cared for. He needed to be important and special to someone for who he was as Namjoon the person, not as Kim Namjoon, Mafia’s Grim Reaper. Plus, he loved Seokjin as a real brother would, but he couldn’t rely entirely on his only friend for the rest of his existence; that man had a life of his own, after all.

Luring you into their mansion, then, was hitting the jackpot for him; even after all those years since he first saw you, he still had the hots for you. Having you under their thumb gave them absolute power over your fortune and business, and gave him the possibility to have a somehow okay relationship with a woman he felt attracted to and who had the same ideals as him. Killing two birds with one stone, right? And he was so sure he knew enough about women to know how to manipulate you so you would love him. It was brilliant, in his humble opinion.

Although, there was one potential problem that became more evident day by day: Seokjin. The man acted all mighty and unbothered, but after all those years working together, Namjoon knew better; he wanted to have you just as much as him, and not in a reversed-roles-revenge situation – which wouldn’t be so bad, if he wasn’t in a permanent childlike tantrum state. They had shared before, they could do it again, but as long as Seokjin denied his attraction to you and disguised it as a physical retribution for all you did to him, he would just be a pain in the ass for you and Namjoon.

…

“You know, when you said I was being held captive, I really thought it was just a figure of speech. Didn’t even cross my mind that you would actually keep me in this room like I’m an animal in a cage.” Exiting the bathroom in a white bathrobe, not at all like the ones in your home, you looked at Namjoon with a frown and crossed arms. He just stared at you innocently while sitting on the bed and folding your clothes.

“Sorry, princess, orders from above. Seokjin is in a power trip since you came so he thinks of you as his prisoner.”

“Aren’t you on his same level? Why are you letting him do as he pleases?” The man’s response was a nonchalant shrug. You cursed under your breath, decided to not lash out on Namjoon because he could be the only way out for you – and you really needed to be out of that room or you would actually go insane. You were sure it had been weeks already. “And what are you doing here, anyways? It’s been days and you keep coming and acting like my maid.”

“I like the domestic roleplaying.”

“So, it isn’t only that Seokjin doesn’t want me out but you also keep me here to play house?” Putting the last of the shirts he bought for you on the pile of clothes he also bought for you, he grinned and made an affirmative sound. “Is it that difficult to find a real girlfriend?” In your head, you meant it in a mocking way, but out loud it ended up sounding like a genuine question.

“You know it is, baby” Namjoon replied matter-of-factly. “You can’t tell me that all men around you are fit for a serious relationship.”

“Why would I want a serious relationship? I was loved enough as a kid, I don’t need that fairytale bullshit.”

“Good for you but some of us didn’t run that luck of having love or a family in our lives.”

“So I have to believe that, because you didn’t have parents, you come and act as if we’re a couple to feel like you’re actually wanted by somebody.”

“Oh no, I am really wanted by lots of people, but what I want is to feel loved by a person I consider my equal.” You snorted. It was the most ridiculous thing you heard a man say.

“Haven’t you tried therapy?”

“Not my thing.”

“Who says I love you, anyways?”

“You will love me. On your own or by Stockholm Syndrome.” You chuckled sardonically at that.

“You know what? You’re right. It’s either falling in love with you or with the viper that is your brother.” Loving them or not was the least of your concerns; first and foremost, you had to look after your enterprises and striking a formal relationship with the Kims was the least risky way. The family business was a kingdom torn apart that could not stand a chance if being put up against the Kim’s mafia.

“You know he is not actually my brother, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“It wouldn’t be illegal to marry us.”

“You really care for legality at this point?” He shrugged once again. “And you think I would marry you?” He got uncharacteristically serious in an instant.

“Look, I’ll be straight with you: I want a family because I didn’t have one. I want a wife and children and all that. It won’t work with just any woman but it could work out with you.”

“Why me?”

“Unlike my brother, I don’t underestimate you at all. I know you’re pretty smart and I know you figured out by now that an arrangement between you and a Kim will be only beneficial for your decaying family.” So, Namjoon was the brain there. You were mildly impressed.

“And for you and your unstable connections, since I’m such a hindrance for both of you and your affairs with powerful people.” He smirked at you and your sharpness. Not a single thing escaped you and he really liked that. “As strong as you appear, not many people trust two nobodies, huh?” Now you were talking. Namjoon clicked his tongue and gave you a real smile.

“You don’t have to say it like that, baby, it hurts my ego.” You shrugged.

“I see which one of you two has the balls.” When he chuckled, you noticed his dimples for the first time. Was it the domestic ambience and the casual sweats-and-shirt attire what made him much more attractive then than when you first met him? Whatever it was, you wanted him to start negotiating or just leave you alone – small talk and thinking about his hotness would not help you get out.

To your dismay, he put his big hands on each side of your hips and pulled you to him until you stood between his open legs, looking up at you with his head tilted and wide eyes. It was so intimate you almost gagged.

“Women like you get on my nerves, but” the man said lowly, holding your gaze. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“That’s my pussy magic.”

“Yes, but I also like you whole, not just when I fuck you.” His thumbs caressed your hips over the robe while he talked, and, for a moment, it felt real; like you had a bond with Namjoon, like he truly meant what he said. Nevertheless, you knew you were just hallucinating as a byproduct of the confinement and Namjoon being somehow nice – and he was taking advantage of that to make you slip, you could tell. Would he succeed? You didn’t think so; it's been days interacting with no one but the Kims, but the only person you knew you could trust was yourself.

“Listen, I understand you’re too deep into this marriage fantasy shit of yours but cut the bullshit, you don’t really know me, bud.” You crossed your arms and looked away in indifference, but by your peripheral view you saw him biting his lip slightly. Was he trying to seduce you now?

“May I get to really know you, then?” His eyes never strayed from yours, barely blinked even, as he leaned his head on your stomach. It wasn’t surprising that a man like Namjoon was so well-versed in being enchanting women; he had such acting skills that he looked genuine in his actions. Like he was really into you. Like he actually wanted you.

“No, you may not. And get out of my space, you creep.” Tittering, he let you push him away from your body. “And stop giggling at everything, it doesn’t make you look friendlier.”

What would he gain from making you trust him, though? It was true that you had more influence than them, and they killing you would not change that. Their best shot was to join forces with you to gain the favor of anyone, but it was vital you showed that you endorsed them. Then, what was he trying with you? You had no idea.

Namjoon got up from the bed slowly, his frame towering over yours and making you look and feel tiny (which your personal trainer could testify you definitively weren’t). A sudden tension raised between you two. His energy shift was accompanied with a hand stroking the side of your neck and a sleazy smirk. By now you got familiar with his changes in behavior, and oh, you were in for a very eventful night.

Sleeping with Kim Namjoon was just as enjoyable as you expected, if not more. The man wasn’t just about his pleasure, no; it seemed he also got off from giving you pleasure, as much as he could for as long as he felt like. Like in that moment, when he caressed your lower lip with his thumb as his lips descended on yours – both his hands also descending on your body. It made you so mad that his sensuous movements stirred some intense heat in your core. From the way your body reacted to him, you were sure he pulled a Pavlov on you.

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you will love me.” In a swift motion, his strong arms hooked under your thighs and he picked you up roughly like you weighted nothing, walking towards the nearest wall to slam you against it. You yelped and cursed at him. Namjoon just laughed. “Are you sure you don’t love me already?” Your poorly tied bathrobe opened and exposed your naked form to the man’s eyes, who always enjoyed the sight and didn’t miss the chance to thrust up his clothed crotch into your bare pussy.

“Fuck you, asshole” you gasped, but didn’t fight him when he buried his head on your cleavage, making a path of kisses towards your left breast.

Namjoon took your nipple between his lips, sucking lightly and stimulating it with kitten-licks, but before a single moan left your mouth, the door was whipped open and Seokjin strutted into the room. If he was the least surprised from finding his brother feasting on your chest, he didn’t show it; he just looked at you smugly. He seemed in a much better mood than the last time you saw him:.

>> The last time he went to your room he was in a rage fit. You didn’t know but that day he tried bribing a congressman that was close to your father, who refused to switch sides and go against your family – the tenth failed attempt of turning people against you in the week. He was really mad and so he went to your room to fuck you and rough as punishment for existing and to let out off steam – which resulted counterproductive, because one, you actually enjoyed the whole thing, and two, as soon as he came, you started nagging at him to let you out of captivity. It was his last straw that day; with only his briefs on, he stomped out slamming the door behind him. Then, it was only Namjoon visiting you daily.

“I have great news for all of us” Seokjin began, standing less than a meter away from his brother and you. Uncomfortably close. “Please, carry on and don’t mind me, just listen.” The younger man ignored his brother completely, focused on sucking a hickey on the tender flesh of your breast. Closing your eyes at the pleasing sensation, you weren’t able to see Seokjin arch an eyebrow and take your jaw harshly, so you would actually pay attention to him. The biggest of smiles adorned his face when your eyes opened. “Your brother gave up, so daddy is planning on giving everything to you.”

“What?!” you gasped when Namjoon bit your nipple hard, jerking away from the other man’s grasp. Goosebumps raised on your arms from the stimulation – but as the information of your family sank in, your heart raced faster.

“Well, I assisted him to give up on life with a bullet to the head and convinced your father with a punch on the nose, but now everything is lawfully yours, and so lawfully mine too” he added with a proud tilt in his voice. Taking everything from your family was all he had wanted for many, many years; taking revenge on you was on a close second place, and killing your father would’ve been the cherry on top – however, that would only make you a more insufferable bitch than you were already.

Getting rid of your useless brother, though, was favorable for them and a way to get on your good side.

Your response was to throw your head back, groaning as Namjoon rutted his growing bulge roughly against your now leaking core. Having your legs spread and perched on the man’s hips made your folds part and expose your clit to the harsh friction of his sweats whenever he moved, and to the air when he withdrew. His wet tongue ran up your chest to your throat once more and nibbled his way to the tender spot under your ear to abuse the flesh there. You squealed high-pitched, chills running all over your body and ending up on your pussy. Pants filled the room and Seokjin was completely forgotten, as Namjoon increased the speed of his shallow thrusts and grinded hard to make you whimper; which the older man didn’t like.

Taking hold of your hair from the roots, he pulled back and turned you to face him.

“I did this for you, bitch, can you show a little gratitude?” he grunted through clenched teeth. You just looked at him through heavy lidded eyes, conscious of what he was saying but deciding to disregard him and his alleged altruism in favor of focusing in Namjoon taking his cock out and rubbing its head on your folds. Once again, Seokjin was left out of the bubble of intimacy Namjoon and you had inadvertently built.

How could you keep disregarding him as if he was a mere dirty rag? Hadn’t you learned to respect him in the slightest in all that time?

Seokjin wasn’t as dumb as everybody thought – he realized instantly what were the emotions that invaded him in that moment. Anger – and envy and jealousy. His masochistic side had taken over his whole self and made him want the very same woman que hated the most. What was it with needing to posses the one person you despised and who despised you back? He would never know and he didn’t want to. All he knew was that it was impossible to keep denying how his carnal desires had evolved into something more.

“I’m talking to you!” he yelled before taking your arm and yanking you with such force that you fell from Namjoon’s arms straight to the floor at Seokjin’s feet. Then, he took you by the hair, pulling you up to land on the bed, tightening more and more his grip on your scalp. Bewildered by the sudden violence, you could only look at him and notice his very read face and how the vein in his neck was about to explode. “Look at me when I talk to you, you stupid useless whore!”

“Seokjin, fuck! Calm the fuck down, man!” Even Namjoon was taken aback by the vicious reaction and didn’t know what to do. His brother had a really bad temper, yes, but since when he let himself go so wildly around you?

“All I have done since you came and you keep being a fucking bitch to me like you had always been, shit!” Seokjin kept yelling on your face until Namjoon pulled him away. Your scalp burned like never before.

You couldn’t discern what was really happening: they tussled, yelled at each other things you couldn’t understand and Namjoon even grabbed his brother by the collar of his shirt menacingly. And then a blow, and another, and another, and another, and blood. Soon enough, the cockfight grabbed the attention of the men that guarded the room and a sea of thugs dressed in black barged into the room to put the brothers apart.

And you?

You feigned fear and walked backwards, away from the fight, until you reached the door. And then you ran.

[jhugas]

♡-✎Namjoon boyfriend pack:;

—When you’re sad, scared, needy, horny—

: ̗̀➛ When you’re sad : ̗̀➛

Namjoon would sit on your bed, taking and rubbing your hand with his thumb and place you standing up in between his legs.

He’d then bring you closer and ask you with a gentle voice

❥ ‘what’s wrong honey?’

And if you spoke about why you’re sad, he’d listen carefully to you and make sure you that you feel cared about, heard and that you don’t feel alone.

But if you don’t speak up, he’d first wait for a answer in silence, and when he’d notice that you don’t want to speak, he’d place kisses on your lower stomach then bring you down on his lap.

❥ ‘Take your time, I’ll be there no matter what.’

He’d also try to make you think of something else like;

❥ ‘You want to watch a movie tonight? A series?’

❥ ‘Do you want to order some food?’

❥ ‘Let’s cook some pancakes if you want’

❥ ‘Order some clothes I’ll pay for you’

: ̗̀➛ When you’re scared : ̗̀➛

He’d try to make you feel safe at all cost.

If you told him you heard a noise at home, he’d come to check then tell you

❥ ‘there’s no one, just you and I…’

He’d tell you

❥ ‘you know I’ll fight anyone for you right? You’re my priority, no matter what happens I’ll make sure you are safe.’

and then would flex his muscles to make you laugh.

And just for you, he’d hold you close to him, hugging your waist from behind and leaving kisses on your neck, making you feel protected and safe against his strong body.

: ̗̀➛ When you’re needy of attention : ̗̀➛

He’d let you do whatever you want and act as if he doesn’t see you, for example, you’d hug him and follow him everywhere around the house meanwhile he’d be doing the dishes, going to the shower, or else…

And after seeing you follow him for a long time, he’d carry you and let you stay there while he works, and most of the times you’d fall asleep, whether he’s standing up or sitting down.

❥ ‘What do you want, huh??’ with a slight sarcastic tone

❥ ‘I want youuuu’

❥ ‘Alright alright…’

You’d always reach out for his kisses and he’d always give in. You know he secretly loves it when you kiss his cheeks.

Sometimes, you’d shower him with kisses and he’d get all flustered and start blushing, trying to get away as it slowly turns into an affection battle.

Even if you started taking his t-shirt off of him, he’d let you do it.

: ̗̀➛ When things get freaky : ̗̀➛

It all depends on who initiates it,

If you’re the one that initiated it, then he’d let you do whatever you want.

If you want to go on top, he’d let you do it. He doesn’t mind you using his body for your own pleasure, it feels good to him anyways.

If he sees you struggling though, getting too sloppy or struggling because you’re getting tired or reaching your orgasm, he’ll join in and make sure that you reach your high the best way possible.

❥ ‘Need some help baby?’

And if he initiated it, then he’d either let you please him, or get on top.

❥ ‘Please… do something…’

❥ ‘I need you, come here baby.’

Not only he’ll make sure to give both of you pleasure, but he’ll make it last a long time. Doing multiple rounds isn’t a surprise with him. He can also be pretty sensitive.

His biggest turn on though are your moans, just hearing your moans get higher and louder through his dick, in his mouth or just in his ear could make him bust a nut.

You’d also be such in a trust relationship, that it happens that you send each other nudes or videos while one of you is away.

For example, if he was on tour and felt horny, he’d masturbate watching your videos while filming his. Could be on a FaceTime too.

He’s also free to let you try new things with him. For example, if you wanted to try to suck dick for the first time, he’d guide you and help you, and of course, praise you the whole time.

The after care is extremely important to him, he’d praise you a thousand times and make sure that you feel safe and secured in his arms.

He’d carry you to the toilets, and if you’re too tired, he’d wash you himself in the shower.

Thank you reading! It’s the first time I put the text little like that, can you read well?

Likes, reblogs and comments are very very appreciated!!

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 04

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: none for this chapter :))

Words: 3632

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading my story, I take the support I receive close to my heart. The next two weeks I'll be away so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, I'm sorry if it causes any inconvenience for anyone. I'm worried that the chapters will lower in quality if I rush so I'll be taking my time with it. Please take care of yourself, xoxo

Previous:

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„We will figure something out then, okay?” Answered Namjoon after a short pause. Nodding lightly, you once again rested your cheek on his chest, just letting him hold you for now.

The other men had a much harder time containing their excitement thought. While the pack alpha acted chill and laid back, they didn't bother covering up anything. Their whispering wasn't making it easy for you to pick up on their words, but you could smell the happiness, so you could guess.

You felt happy too, in a way. You had no idea what was awaiting in the future, but you wanted to explore and develop along side with them. You still had a long way to go. You have never been properly courted before, the only pack you were ever part of was your family pack, which you weren't in for over two years now.

It wasn't something you were proud of. It was always frowned upon for omegas to not have a stable pack. Usually, people mated only within the pack that they were apart of. Once they found someone they were potentionally interested in, the lower second gender individual entered their courting mate pack.

Sometimes, when a bigger mate group started forming and an alpha well enough to support and lead the pack appeared, the whole group of mates broke off their earlier pack and formed a new one.

Therefore, an omega without a fully stable pack was considered not loyal, a big deal to more traditionally thinking people. Over the time you taught yourself to not talk about your pack, always cleverly avoiding the topic.

Others often noticed you being unscented, so you would from time to time try to buy artificial scent. It could be in different forms, but mostly, it was a small piece of fabric that was scented profusely. The scents weren't from a real person, it was a fake mixture of different spices, flower smells, and even things like drinks, foods, or parts of nature. This mixture was carefully measured and listed on the label with a small letter in a circle next to it. That stood for the different second genders the scent was meant to remind you of.

These small fabric scraps could be inexpensive but very highly priced too, it all came down to the quality you were receiving. If you choose to splurge for once, the small rug would serve you for longer. The clothes you would rub it on, neck or your hair would truly smell longer too. Usually, that still lasted for only about 4 days at most, the lower quality artificial scent completely gone within the 2 days.

You weren't ready to spend over 120 000₩ on a flimsy plastic bag with a 10x10cm square of slightly itchy fabric inside, that smelled so unnatural, it pretty much stank. You did have to purchase one from time to time, but only if the situation really requested it. You just really didn't have the spare cash for that, usually being left hungry for the few following days until your weekly set budget went up again.

Plus, they made you feel quite terrible about yourself. That didn't matter if you were about to travel to a different city, or just take the public bus, or have a longer school trip. It was more than normal for a pack to scent you if you were going to undertake such a thing. All of your classmates were well scented, so you followed along, attempting to fit in.

Being pulled from your thoughts by the pack alpha once again, he softly patted your hair looking at your face.

„Do you want to go to the mall with us now? We can eat lunch there, how about that? After that we can drive you back to your apartment.” Slowly pulling away from the warmth he brought, you sat up and nodded. Not really sure what going to the mall would mean you just didn't want to upset them by rejecting any of their ideas.

„Hobi, Koo and Yoongi are at the studio now, they are finishing up some stuff, maybe they will join us later okay?” Listening to Jimin closely you did faintly remember the three alpha's leaving the house sometime in the morning after you ate. They did tell you soft goodbyes back then, but didn't prolong the exit too much. Since you were mostly focused on the movie at that time, they didn't want you to become upset from their sudden absence.

Standing up with them, you all started getting ready. You didn't have much on you at the moment, only coming to the packhouse with a wallet and keys, so you just went on to pull on your jacket, scarf and boots.

Tying the gray knit around your neck, you watched how the other man got ready, grabbing long coats, puffer jackets and warm hats. Bending to tie your shoelaces, you were too slow, warm hands already finishing up the bow knot. Startled, you gripped your fingers lightly squeezing each one in a pattern.

Standing up after kneeling down Taehyung stood taller than you, the high heel boots he wore only adding to his height. Zipping up your jacket all the way up to your chin, he smiled with how your cheeks poked out, appearing bigger.

Squeezing them he cooed loudly, making your face turn just a bit pinker. Huffing, you lightly slapped his hands off, whining. Suddenly, Tae was in your bad books, how could he make fun of you like that?

Whining louder at his chuckle, you rushed towards Jin who was holding the door open for you all. With the two alpha's already gone you also walked outside, the cold air hitting you just as it did yesterday. Snowflakes weren't falling at the moment, but according to the forecast you watched on Saturday, it will start snowing again eventually.

Walking towards the already started car, you followed the footprints stepped before you. The vehicle was a Kia, black and quite large, pretty much a mini van. The snow crunched under your feet as you walked towards the door, pulling at the handle. Tugging the heavy thing open, you slowly climbed in, looking at the layout before deciding where to sit.

The seats were made out of light tan coloured leather, and felt bit cooling to the first touch. Gripping onto the handle, you were going to sit behind the driver seat, only to be pulled back by your hand. Softly landing in the middle seat, you looked at Jimin who was sitting by the wheel.

„Sit here princess. We can see you better this way, do you understand? It's for safety, come on, buckle up now.” The said alpha said calmly, turning in his seat to pat your knee lightly.

Growing only more annoyed by this, you just wanted to sit next to the window, was that big of a deal? Still, you just whined and did what the alpha asked for.

„Good girl.”

Looking up, you met eyes with Namjoon, and after a second of the sudden stare contest, you looked down at the seatbelt you started to pull at, ignoring the soft flutter you felt in your stomach.

Sliding into the seat next to you, Jin closed the doors after himself with a loud bang, followed shortly by Tae climbing in and doing the same. Sandwiched between the alphas, you shrunk into yourself, feeling small.

„Awhh, are you still mad at me?” smiling at you, you turned to face away from the man, choosing to instead watch out of the window as Jimin started backing out of the drive way slowly.

„Is everyone buckled up? Do you have everything?” asked Namjoon from the front seat, turning to look at all of us. Reaching his hand to pull at the belt around your shoulder, deeming it secure enough when it didn't move.

Nodding you answered just as everyone else did, so the car got on its way. The neighborhood the pack lived in was a luxurious one, not shocking you too much. You knew about their music, nowdays it was basically impossible to not know. But still you never payed enough attention to be aware of any details what's so ever. You didn't really know their names before hand, only hearing few songs in the radio or seeing them on billboards. You never really took a great interest in K-pop, only a small bit. Western music was more your style.

You always wished to travel to a western country, like the USA. You loved snow, so something like Alaska was always a part of your dreams, sadly, never achievable. You studied a major that made your future well above uncertain and risky, but still you hoped to make it one day.

The competitions you signed up for were not always too successful for you, but you loved the process of creating anyways, so you eventually always came back to them, even if you were disappointed with your results last time.

Your work ranged across many mediums, going from painting on big canvases to drawing, sculptures, or printing techniques you explored in some of your lessons. You loved all of it, often showing some of your projects to people who offered to listen in, even if there weren't too many. You didn't have a lot of friends, practically none.

The classmates you shared were often time bit too rough for you, and you still had hard time adjusting to living on your own, so going out to meet with new people was absolute no for you. You somehow always wished for it though, no matter how introverted you were.

And so with a soft music playing in the background from the radio, you felt at peace for once.

Finally, you had someone who was willing to help you, to hold you in your hardest and cherish you at your worsts. There was a coldness at the bottom of your heart, reminding you that any of the short term relationships you worked hard to form with some of your class were never truly real. They never included any of what you had with the packmates, confusing you further. Were they never actually real?

Still, you had a few you trusted, occasionally coming by to talk to them, even if they never came to you by themselves.

Streets passed by, the road was calm even if it was snowy and icy. Jimin was driving slowly, making sure to slow down before any curves to avoid any possible danger.

„Hyung, we have to take her to the Cheongdam-dong, let's go to the mall after.” Said the youngest from next to you. While you weren't that well set regarding your money, only getting payed small amount from your family as a compensation, you knew the Cheongdam-dong street. Filled with stores like Prada, Burberry, Chanel, MIU MIU, or Gucci, it was absolutely not what you were expecting to go down.

 You thought the men would take you to the mall, mingle around in new sections of the stores, you would maybe buy a lunch later and then be on your way. This seemed different though. Why would you even go there, you could never ever afford anything from such luxury brands.

Since your school hours usually started at around 8 and ended after 17, you didn't have much time or energy to do a lot after that. You could take on a part time job, and you emailed a lot of places, but after they realised you were an omega and with no pack alpha they usually stopped communicating. There was a lot of papers that needed to be signed by the pack to get the omega to work, even as a part time job at a local café. 

„Cheongdam-dong street? Why?” The discomfort in your voice was well above obvious as you looked at the man besides you. He way excitedly looking at Namjoon, smiling with his teeth showing. He was wearing a long coat and a cashmere blue and red scarf around his neck, left loose to dangle on his torso, looking chic and elegant. An outfit nice enough to go shopping in such brands, yours on the other hand was far from it. 

You did freshen up before leaving today, but you still wore the same clothes as you did yesterday and you weren't sure if the wrinkles would be appreciated. You could bet you would get kicked out before you would even try to enter.

Instead of turning to Tae, the highest ranking alpha turned to you. Watching you with soft gaze, he let his gaze linger for a minute before speaking. Namjoon was already set on starting courting you, and he wasn't about to back down. Especially since he knew that you were interested yourself, and his pack wanted just the same. 

„It's okay pup. We can just look around how 'bout that? Don't get worked up baby, let's just enjoy our day yea?” with his dimples showing, you allowed him to carres your cheek, leaning into his touch slightly. 

„I'm sure you will love it cub, the new winter collection from Dior has some really pretty jackets. Maybe you will find one you like.” Looking up at Jin he too only returned it, his eyes soft and warm. Nervously looking around, you weren't too sure about this. 

„Gucci has a new one too, did you see some photos? What did you like the most? I'll take you there so you can see, okay babycheeks?” Tae said, pulling out his phone before showing you a photos taken from a runway show. 

They were from his Camera folder, meaning that he himself visited such event, shocking you for a second. The intimidating looking women and men wore oversized suits with sunglasses, colourful patterns coats paired with just as bright pants, barretts, fur coats that dragged after them and maxi dresses. 

Leaning closer to the alpha, you watched the many photos he must have taken. When you were younger, you did look at fashion magazines, watching the makeup looks they wore confidently and the new silhouettes the current trends offered. Your mother always took you away sooner or later; whenever you asked to buy such magazines, they were always too expensive, was the reply.

Your grandmother did have sewing patterns and books on different techniques and guides for such things. In those old booklets, there was an occasional drawing of the clothing article, modelled by a girl. You always settled for those, flipping through the pages quietly.

After you got older, the fashion world just got a bit too much for you to keep up with, so instead you chose to buy what you found comfortable and interesting at the moment.

Only meekly nodding, you sat back comfortably, just as Jimin started to park the car. Stopping at a bit of a busy street, the alphas didn't step out immediately; instead, they pulled on different hats and sunglasses, pulling up face masks over their noses.

Before you knew it, a hand underneath your chin turned your face to the eldest. Pulling a soft pink face mask over your nose, he tucked the strings over your ears. Smiling at you with his eyes, he booped your covered nose while cooing.

„We need to keep you covered up, cub. We don't want to share!” His laughter got louder, making you smile lightly. With the seatbelts undone, you all piled out of the van. After locking the car, you all waited for Jimin before walking on the pavement. A lot of people were around, bundled up in soft-looking jackets. You did so too once the cold wind hit you.

A warm hand took hold of yours, warming you up slightly. When you looked up, you were once again met with the dragon eyes of the pack alpha. With your hand and cheeks warming up, you looked away.

„I don't want to lose you, pup. Stay in sight, okay? Don't wander off too far; stay with alphas for now.” Feeling able to only nod, you felt his fingers squeeze around yours before he pulled your hand with his in the coat pocket.

Walking at a calm pace, with Taehyung leading the way, you four followed closely. Watching the cars pass on the busy road, you noticed a few limousines here and there. You kept to yourself, only stopping for a millisecond to stare. Even that was easy to notice for the older man, who laughed loudly.

„I'll take you in one some day, okay? I promise, baby cub.” You didn't take it too seriously, so you only nodded. With the first luxury brand shops in sight, the small group you were a part of walked towards the first one. A tall, white architectural structure captured your attention well enough before you entered. The shapes were curved and stood tall with a simple black name planted on the front, spelling out DIOR.

The doors slid open, allowing the cold air from outside in, but after you all entered, they quickly closed again. With two guards standing next to the exit, you immediately felt watched and stared down. Before you had time to get anxious, a hand on your lower back lightly pushed you forward.

Jimin smiled at you; his soft palm slid over and stayed on your waist. Ushering you forward, you noticed Taehyung and Jin wandering off towards different sections, only to have sales attendants rush after them.

You knew that Dior was a luxury brand, but you didn't know that the inside would be so grand. You should have expected it based on how the outside looked. Right opposite the entrance was a wide and curved staircase to the left leading to a second floor. With two mannequins standing next to it, they were both clothed in the new season's styles. The one further from you wore a soft-looking checkered jacket with light tan accents and a long, pleated beige skirt. With a white turtleneck and a bag in hand, the outfit did look quite nice to your eyes.

The other figurine wore a more daring outfit: a brown leather coat that went below its knees was left open. A fur cuff around it was cheetah-patterned, matching the cheetah-print Barret she wore. Underneath, she wore a soft baggy sweater vest with a crisp white shirt left untucked underneath. A pair of loose-fitting black trousers went over her feet, so the tall heels she wore just barely peeked out, making the mannequin appear taller than she was.

The white marble flooring was shining brightly under the strong lights, reflecting everything on it. Pulling you along, the men lead you towards one of the jewellery and purse showcases. Kept under a glass, there lay many handbags, set up in neat lines. Some were small, some bigger, and they all seemed a bit too much for you.

The necklaces were mostly spelled Dior and made out of rose gold; there were also many bracelets shown. With the same logo, you liked a few but didn't dwell on them for too long. There was no way you could wear any of this stuff, so why look too closely?

Allowing the alphas to pull you through the store calmly, whenever a sales clerk appeared, they were quick to wave them off. You felt out of place, but the warmth their hands provided made you feel better, so you just complied and went with it.

Occasionally stopping, they took notes of where you were looking; if you watched over a pair of heels for a bit longer, a ring, a bracelet, or just a simple sun hat, they were quick to remember.

Eventually, you three walked up the stairs to where the clothing section was. This wasn't like the usual store you knew, where the clothes were filled with all different sizes and the clothing racks were full. Here, there were only a very few items, usually kept in one or two sizes.

You didn't have much time to look around closely before Taehyung walked towards you, with two store workers quickly trailing him. Both of them, the girl and the man, had their hands full with stuff. From bright colours to softer stuff, there was a lot they held. Taking a hold of your soft cheeks, the wide boxy smile was all you could pay attention to.

„Here, babycheeks, I found some stuff for you to try on. Why don't we do that now? Will you do a nice fashion show for your alphas, my good girl?”

„Ah, Tae, that sounds just like the best thing ever. Here princess, the changing rooms are this way. Did you already select the right sizes for our baby?” Jimin asked his younger packmate, who nodded quickly.

„Of course, don't worry. It should all fit, the clerk's chose the sizes. Here, babycheeks, we will sit here for now. You just come out once you are ready okay? Alpha's are right here.”

Pulling open the long curtain, you were lightly pushed in the large changing room. There were a few hangers in there with few clothes already hung up on them. Turning to look at the men, everything happened bit too quickly for you to realise what was going on before you were already standing in the changing room.

Before them stood a few leather armchairs, already occupied by the pack, while Namjoon and Tae had his knees spread, Jimin chose to set one over the other and rest that way. Meeting his gaze once again, the man spoke again.

„Don't worry baby, we aren't going anywhere. Be a good girl now and go try on some stuff okay? I'm sure you'll like it.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[twinkminnie]

♡ my works ♡

finished one shots

⋅˚₊ if you're ready, come and get it - 6.3K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: the one where omega porn star jimin gets wrecked by the newcomer, alpha jungkook. tags: service top jk, overstimulation, exhibitionism

⋅˚₊ everytime i see you, i don't wanna behave - 5.8K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: jeongguk can't stop thinking about it. tags: established relationship, canon compliant, bottom!jm, top!jk

⋅˚₊ we could belong together - 10.2K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin, park jimin/park jimin summary: twenty-one year old jimin wakes up to find that not only has he traveled six years into the future but he is in a committed relationship — with jeongguk. tags: threesome, self-cest, two jimins, bottom!jm, top!jk, canon divergence

⋅˚₊ worst nightmare, sweetest dream - 3.3K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: when jungkook, a hunter, wanders too far in the forest, fairy jimin decides he has to have to him. tags and warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con elements, dub-con, sex pollen, magical realism, bottom!jm, top!jk

⋅˚₊ punish me, daddy! - 13.2K

rated: explicit pairing: kim namjoon/park jimin summary: his daddy has wielded rigid, consistent discipline and unrealistic expectations his entire life. jimin was to be the best, the smartest, the prettiest, the most obedient child. and jimin, more than anything, wants to be good, wants to please him, wants to become the son his daddy has tried so valiantly to shape him into. but jimin is a bad boy. tags and warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con elements, dub-con, incest, grooming, emotional manipulation, boypussy!jm with breasts, top!nj

⋅˚₊ secrets, secrets 6.3K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: “i know your secret.” jimin peers from where he’s washing his hands, lured to where the school’s resident asshole, jeon jeongguk, is stepping into the bathroom. he’s not sure if he should feel lucky or frightened that it’s only the two of them alone. or; the one where school bully jeongguk takes advantage of school nerd, jimin. warnings: dead dove do not eat, homophobia, homophobic slurs, non-con, blackmail, painful sex, unhappy ending, humiliation, degradation, top!jk, bottom!jm

⋅˚₊ vicissitude 10.5K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: popular, pretty girl bully cisfem!jm takes advantage of closeted transfem!jgk. warnings: dead dove do not eat, transphobia, blackmail, non-con, humiliation, bullying, emotional/mental manipulation & abuse, hurt no comfort, unhappy ending, heavy angst, misgendering, threats, penis in vagina sex, +more on ao3

finished chaptered works

⋅˚₊ i can be your china doll (if you'd like to see me fall) - 2 chapters, 30.5K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: it’s becoming hard to not want to be around jeongguk all the time. jimin wants to soak up all the knowledge jeongguk can offer him, to learn from the best, to be close to him. he hopes he'll have many more chances to show jeongguk that he is willing to do whatever he can to make him proud. warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, coercion, power imbalance, professor!jk, student!jm

ongoing chaptered works

⋅˚₊ if you're too shy (let me know) - 39K, 2/5 chapters completed

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin, kim taehyung/park jimin summary: in order to impress his crush, jimin has to turn to his favorite hyung and well-known bachelor, jeongguk. jimin needs jeongguk to teach him how to have sex. as expected, things get more complicated. tags: boypussy!jm with breasts, endgame jm/jk, friends to lovers

ongoing series

♡ milf jimin series ♡

part one

⋅˚₊ put him on his knees, give him something to believe in 6.8K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: the one where jungkook finally gets to eat his best friend's milf of a mother's pussy. warnings: cunnilingus, aged up jm, de-aged jk, 90s au, mommy kink, munch!jk, face-sitting, bp w/ tits!jm

♡ finished twitter threads on ao3 ♡

⋅˚₊ masterlist ⋅˚₊

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: L/N Y/N, the 8th member of BTS, is getting married. The media was shocked with the announcement but they weren’t important to her at this moment. What was important was her seven brothers watching her make a new beginning. 

♡ Rating: Pg - 14

♡ Genre: 8th member au, comedy, romance, fluff, and little angst 

Author's note: This has nothing to do with the other 8th member au story I had, this is different. I just thought this would be fun to do. Also wanted to do it for Bts’s anniversary!  

Looking back on everything, L/N Y/N was always the eighth member of Bts. The little sister of the seven members and so many titles that were given to her by Army but it was always involving Bts, never herself alone. She was part of the 94’ line and the dance line, an extraordinary dancer but she always let the other members shine. She was scared. She was the only girl in this group and she had insecurities because of it. She didn’t think she was pretty enough to be with the others nor did she think she was talented enough. The guys always told her she shouldn't feel this way but words could only do so much. Taehyung even told her that without her then he wouldn’t want to become an idol but she thought he was just saying that to make her feel better.

Being older helped heal some of the insecurities but she still held back in most categories. It wasn’t until they were able to do their own photobooks and solo albums that everyone saw her as her. In her photobook, she showed off her elegance and the softness that she carried that was always covered. In a pale pink dress with flowers all around, Armies were shocked to see this side of her. She named her photobook, Heavenly Sent. Everyone could agree she looked like an angel but she named it for another reason. 

Y/N was in a relationship; a long-term relationship. She was with them since the beginning of her career and they were engaged for a year. That’s ten years of being with someone and she wouldn’t change that. She remembered when she told the guys that she was seeing someone, it was a comedy skit.

Nineteen-year-old Y/N sat in the living room waiting for the rest of the guys to come home. She decided to stay home that day because she was sick but in all truth, she was scared. She was scared that she made herself sick. Jin thought that she was going to start her period and grabbed a heating pad for her. He was sweet but that's not what she needed. 

She heard the door open and she jumped up in her seat. All the guys stared at her with raised eyebrows at her nervous expression. Namjoon was the first one to drop his bag, “Y/N, is everything okay?” 

“Define okay....” 

Yoongi let out a small chuckle as Jin sent a glare at him, “That means no. What’s wrong?” 

Y/N looked down at the ground and then back at them, “Ca-Can you guys sit down...”

Jungkook's eyes widened and looked at Taehyung, “Is Noona pregnant?” 

Y/N’s eyes widened and it sent her into a coughing fit, “Jungkook, I-I-I am not!”

Hoseok let out a small laugh and was the first one to sit on the floor, “Guys, just sit for her.” 

The rest of them followed and stared at Y/N with wide eyes. She gave them a small smile and looked down at her feet, “I-I’m dating someone...please don’t tell the company.” 

The silence in the room made her uncomfortable and she slowly looked up to see shocked faces. She nodded her head and looked away from the intense stares. Jimin was the first one to speak, “Are you happy?” 

“Very...” 

Namjoon let out a small sigh and looked at Y/N with a tight smile, “I want you to be happy. We won’t tell the company but don’t let this relationship hold you back when it comes to practicing or anything along those lines.”

“It won’t, don’t worry. They understand.” 

“Then, go be happy.” 

Jungkook tilted his head at Y/N and then looked at Jin, “So Noona isn’t pregnant?”  

“Jungkook, Y/N isn’t pregnant.” 

“But she has a partner?” 

“Oh my god Jungkook, keep up.” 

This month was a big month for everyone; she was getting married. The announcement of her being in a relationship shook the world. She was the first member of Bts to say that they were in a relationship and on top of things, getting married. She was so excited to announce it to the public because she wanted to show off her engagement ring (and wedding ring in the future). She didn’t want people questioning her ring and she just wanted to get it out of the way. She told Army that she will not be sharing any pictures or details of her partner, it will stay private. 

Her members were excited for her but Jin was sad. He saw her as a little sister and seeing her getting married made his heart jump in happiness but in sadness as well. Jin was the one that taught her how to drive and was the one that let her stay over at his house when she got homesick. Yoongi couldn’t explain how he felt. He knew Y/N since he knew Namjoon, he thought Namjoon was her brother because of how close they were. She would watch Yoongi and cheer him on whenever he rapped underground and supported him to audition in Bighit. She gave him so much support at a young age and she was still doing that. Hoseok saw her as his little dancer. The two would dance for hours and would even make dances to their songs. Hoseok was happy but he also understood this was a big step in her life. Namjoon was her best friend. They went to the same school and became friends through being in the same class. As soon as they met, they clicked. Namjoon would always write his poems in middle school and high school with Y/N. It was something they shared. He had the true privilege to see her blossom into the adult that she was now. 

The Maknae line saw Y/N as their older sister. She would iron Jimin and Taehyung's uniforms every morning for them. Making them breakfast, lunch, and dinner for them making sure they were well fed. They would also go to her whenever they had problems in school, she was always there to help. Helping Jimin when he was struggling with his body image and being his therapist when he needed it. He saw her as a guardian angel. Y/N helped Taehyung when his grandmother passed away. She understood his pain because she lost her grandparents around the same time but she helped Taehyung through his pain while she ignored her own. He helped her with her pain when he realized what she was doing and the two got closer. Jungkook saw Y/N as his second love. His first love was Namjoon but his second love was Y/N. When he first met her at Bighit, she comforted him and gave him the confidence that he was lacking. Y/N would get up early in the morning and walk him to school or drive him to school. Giving him breakfast along the way and he never forgot this. She was there for his first heartbreak and she was there when he graduated, she was always there for him and he was going to do the same for her. 

She was standing in the room with her mother and maid of honor fixing her dress. She turned her head and smiled to herself in the mirror. The knock on the door took her out of her thoughts and she turned her head to the door, “Come in!” 

The door opened and it revealed her members. Her mother and maid of honor left the room so they could have a moment with each other. She walked towards them and looked down at her dress, “You like it?” 

Jin smiled and nodded his head, “You look beautiful.” 

Her fingers gently touched the floral appliques on her skirt, “This is my dream dress. I’ve dreamed about this dress since I was little.” 

Jimin let out a small chuckle and gently touched her veil, “You always had good taste.” 

“I do try.” 

Namjoon isn’t the type to cry but here he was, tearing up. He brought Y/N in a tight hug and she was shocked by the embrace but she returned the hug. When he went to let go, he placed a kiss on the side of her head, “I’m so happy for you.” 

“Joon, don’t cry...you’ll make me cry.”

Yoongi wiped his eyes and let out a small laugh, “Yeah, we can’t ruin her make-up, Joon.” 

“Shut up, I’ve known her longer than all of you. She’s my baby sister...”

“I’m older than you...” 

Taehyung took something out of his pocket and smiled at Y/N, “I got something for you...well, we got you something.” 

She looked between the youngest with a small smile and looked at the box, “Ohhh, a little box. Does this little box have a little gift in it?” 

Jungkook let out a small laugh and nodded his head, “Just open it noona.”

She let out a small laugh opening the small box. Her smile quickly dropped and looked up at them with a shocked look, “You guys...”

Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous manner, “We thought it would be cool to walk down the aisle with you...”

She looked down at the amethyst earrings with a matching necklace. She looked back up at them with tears coming down, “I love you guys so much...”

They had group hugs before but this one was different. They weren’t getting ready for a concert or music show, they weren’t accepting an award and they weren’t doing anything for Army. This group hug was meant for them and them only. When they let go, Jimin wiped away her tears gently and kissed her forehead, “I can’t believe you're getting married.” 

“You guys are still important in my life...don’t think otherwise.” 

Taehyung let out a chuckle and nodded his head, “You better think like that Noona.” 

“Can you help me put the necklace on?” Taehyung nodded his head and watched her turn in her long white gown slowly. He gently placed the necklace around her neck and clasped it. Before she could turn around, she took out the pearl earrings and replaced them with the amethyst earrings. She slowly turned around and gave them a small smile, “So what do you think?” 

Hoseok smiled and let a small tear escape, “Perfect.” 

“Oppa, what do you think?”

She glanced at Jin who was fighting back tears, “Yo-You look beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”

“Should we do a toast before I get out there?” The group moved towards the bar and Namjoon opened the champagne bottle. He poured eight glasses and handed them out. She kissed Jimin on the cheek and looked at Namjoon, “Should the leader give a speech?” 

Namjoon let out a chuckle and glanced at the bubbly drink before looking at Y/N, “After years of being together, it’s our turn to let you go and spread your wings. It’s your turn to write this part of your story with your partner and it's going to be the most beautiful story that anyone has read. My little sister is getting married to someone who was heavenly sent, in her own words. To new beginnings and so much more!”

“TO SO MUCH MORE!”