#my eyes are OPEN I’m WATCHING YOU SEOKJIN!!

[trivia-yandere]

a favor

the only way your professor is willing to give you a passing grade is if you do something for him in return.

word count: 6.176

warning: power imbalance, slight bratty mc, college professor jin, fingering, dirty talking, degradation, nipple sucking, non-con/dub-con, semi-public sex, oral sex, edging, vibrator usage, dry humping, squirting,

dedicated to: @justmygrayworld since there isnt enough jin fics for you on tumblr 😭

“Sir,”

Jin’s eyes glanced up from his laptop, glasses lying lazily on his nose. He’s already sighing at the sight of you.

“I would like to speak with you.” you say, arms crossed. You’re chewing gum and the way you’re smacking it annoys him instantly.

“You’re already speaking.” Jin retorts. He closes his laptop. The other students in the classroom were heading out, classes done for the day. All except you - the last person he’s expected to be staying after classes.

“Ha ha.” you say sarcastically, voice dry and not laced with any amusement.  “I wanted to ask about my grade.”

Jin raises his eyebrows. As long as you’ve been in his class, you haven't been interested in your grade. You’d often come late when classes were during the day and you were the first to leave once the class was over. 

Jin doesn’t want to be that professor that judges his students - but it was obvious when it came to you. You only attended college for the experience; the parties and lifestyle instead of actually being serious about it. Your last name was well-known around the college - you’re a legacy, after all.

Being a legacy meant that you didn’t have to work twice as hard as the other students whose names didn’t ring any bells. You drove a more expensive car than he did. He never saw you in the same thing twice and every time you joined class, he swore he saw another gold bracelet added to your collection upon your wrist.

‘What about your grade?” Jin leans against his leather chair, crossing his arms. He wants to snort as he has a possibility as to why. You were failing - not as if you truly cared. You’ve been failing since the beginning and had expressed no interest before.

“There’s no way I’m not getting at least a passing grade.” you sigh, waving your arms in the air in frustration. “I’ve come to class everyday!”

Jin blinks.

“Okay?” Jin shakes his head, not understanding. “That’s what you’re supposed to do,  Miss Y/L.”

“Doesn’t that count? Don’t I get points for attendance?”

Jin blinks once more.

“You’re still supposed to do the work. And participate in class discussions.” Jin murmurs. He removes his glasses and places them onto his desk. “You’ve been failing since the semester started, Y/N, why are you asking about this now?”

You inhale, closing your eyes for a moment.

Should you say that your father has threatened to take everything if you didn’t bring your grades up? He wasn’t paying for college for the hell of it were his exact words - and the way he belted it at you told you that he was serious. You needed at least a passing grade and the only one you were on the verge of failing was one with a specific Kim Seokjin.

“I’m trying to get my stuff together.” you say, opening your eyes to find his dark ones watching you closely.

“Are you?” Jin asks. The classroom was quiet and the hallways were becoming the same. There weren’t any classes going and usually this was the time Jin took to go through assignments and grade what was needed. “Or is daddy threatening you?”

“Excuse me?” you scoff, taken aback.

“You’re excused.” Jin juts his head to the left where the classroom door is at. 

“W-What?” your eyes widens. “But I-” your hands place themselves onto his desks. “-Mr. Kim…what can I do to at least pass the class? I’ll do my last few assignments!”

Jin raises a brow. You’re close, and being so close has him inhaling your scent. The perfume you wore was such a fruit scent with a hint of lemon. He’s never smelt anything like it before.

Your hands are manicured on his desk - if he was an english professor, he would’ve made a whole page about how the shade of pink highlighted your promiscuity.

“You think you doing work that has already been graded and added to the system would make whatever pathetic grade you have rise?”

You’ve never heard Jin speak with such a harsh tone before. It has you taken aback, lifting your hands from his desk to take a step back. His desh chair rolls back as he stands.

You’ve always thought Jin was handsome - so did everyone else. Upon first entering his class, however, he made it clear to everyone that he wasn’t like most professors. He wanted you to either call him “Sir” or simply “Mr. Kim” because, in his own words, he was friends with none of his students. While the other professors were more relaxed and didn’t mind if you called them by their name or not, he hadn’t.

“Hello?” Jin head jerks. He was actually expecting you to answer his question. He rounds his desk and leans against it, crossing his arms. His dark eyes are lingering on you, an unfamiliar glint to them.

“I…I guess not?” your voice is lowered to a mere murmur. You’re unsure what to do or say now.

“You’re correct. All grades are final.” Jin speaks. 

Jin watches the way your face falls, and for a mere moment he finds great satisfaction in knowing that you were disappointed. Hopefully in yourself for allowing your grades to plummet just because you were too lazy to keep up with it. If you were the type of student to appear interested, he would’ve extended a grace period - he has before. 

However, you weren’t. Jin has never received an email from you concerned about the material or his class in general. He tilts his head as he awaits for a response out of you, such sad eyes casting downwards.

“What’s going to happen if you fail my class? It has to be something crucial for you to look so sad.”

You glance up from the ground to Jin. 

“Do you care?” you’re bold enough to ask. 

There wasn’t a point in being here in his classroom any longer if Jin wasn’t going to help you with your grade. And realistically, you cannot be upset. You had bullshitted through college since you started and just recently did your father begin to get hard on you - his only daughter - to actually take it seriously.

Jin snickers. His plump lips form into a smirk. “Your true colors are showing, Miss Y/L.” he speaks, voice so condescending that you roll your eyes. “And here I thought you were actually serious about your grade.”

“I am!” you hiss. “I…you’re just-”

Jin knits his brows. “Just what?” he ponders.  “You’re used to getting whatever you wanted since birth. Welcome to the real world, Miss Y/L. You actually have to work for things.”

Your eyes widen. Your hands form into first and you take a deep breath to not spat out anything you’d come to regret. Instead, you attempt to call down and appear just as kind as you were prior to all of this.

“Please, Mr. Kim,” you begin. When all things fail, you suppose a bit of begging wouldn’t hurt, right? “If you can just give me a passing grade, I’d try my best to-”

“Try your best to do what? Give a fuck about my class?” Jin chuckles. He finds it amusing how pathetic you are, but for some odd reason, he swears there’s something inside of him firing up.

Maybe it’s the authority he has over you. Knowing that you needed something from him, and if you didn’t have it, it would slowly ruin your life.

“Say if I do give you a passing grade. What are you going to do?”

Your shoulders straighten. “I’ll participate more. I’ll…I’ll do my assignments and-”

Jin steps forward from his lean against his desk. The action causes you to stop your speech. You watch him watch you for a moment, a glint in his eyes that’s still so unfamiliar to you.

“What is given without expectation of payment, but often returned with gratitude?”

You blink, your mind working the question through your brain. “What?”

“What,” Jin takes another step closer to you. 

Your shoulders tense a bit with how close he was getting. Once more, Jin was an attractive man - that was no lie. You were always unsure of his direct age. He often appeared older than the rest of the class, yet sometimes he’d say such corny jokes that told you that he wasn’t always so serious. His shoulders were broad and he always had a cool yet mysterious demeanor about him.

“is given without expectation of payment,” Jin continues, another step coming towards you.  “but often returned with gratitude?”

You swallow. The room and hallways were so quiet and suddenly, the large classroom felt so small. You could hear the way your heartbeat quickens underneath Jin’s gaze, and you’re highly confused as to why. You’ve never felt this way before and the action was frightening you.

“If you can answer the riddle, I’ll give you a passing grade.” Jin speaks. He’s smug; because he’s positive that you don’t know. “If you cannot, then I suppose you’ll have to do something else to work for your grade.”

Your lips part at his words, eyes scanning his face for any sign of…anything. But you don’t find it.

“I d-don’t know.” you murmur, unsure of where this now leads you. You weren’t thinking about the riddle enough to attempt to decipher it  - but this wasn’t even that type of class. 

“Too bad.” Jin hums, the same condescending tone in his voice. It’s as if he’s mocking you. “I have an early class tomorrow. You’ll be here 8 a.m. sharp.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You didn’t have his class tomorrow - and you never had early classes, either. Your eyes were forming a glare, but Jin wasn’t done speaking. 

“You’ll be here 20 minutes early, as well. I have something you’d need to have in order to go through with the class.” 

“Are you serious?” you fumed. “You cannot be-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, but Jin knows what you were going to ask. Yes, he was entirely serious, and without much preparation for what he does next, he grabs onto your shirt. It’s loosely fitted and allows him to bring you closer. Instead, however, he’s flinging you towards his desk. The action causes you to squeal, eye widening at the sudden movement.

You let out a gasp when you feel Jin directly behind you. He’s pressing himself against you, your leggings allowing you to feel him entirely. 

You don’t move. Neither does Jin.

“You’re going to do something else to work for your grade, Y/N. That’s unless you’re fine with the grade you have. Then you can walk out of here and continue with your day.”

Your hands are firmly against his desk, but you’re too stunned to move. Jin steps away for a moment, but his crotch is replaced with hands. Your leggings are slowly - almost tauntingly - being pulled down.

“If you aren’t fine with it, then…you’re okay with working for it, right?”

Jin’s voice sounds so close. You can feel his breath right at the back of your neck and instantly, the hair on your arms rises. Goosebumps form on once soft skin and you’re unsure what to do or how to respond. You’ve never been in this position before, nor would you have ever thought it would be with him. Jin was never the creepy professor type that flirted with his students; he was the exact opposite.

“After all, you’ve never worked for anything else in your life.” The cool air hits your skin as Jin drags your leggings down. You’re wearing a thong, he notes. He also notices that it matches the hue of your nails, ironically enough. “You should at least work for a passing grade. I’m sure your future depends on it, right?”

You let out a strangle gasp when you feel fingers on your clit. Your hands grip the edge of Jin’s desk as he begins to rub, softly humming behind you. 

“Since we’re like this, Y/N…so close to one another. I suppose I should share a little secret with you.” Jin speaks. His voice is so deep, you notice, and husky. His fingers don’t stop rubbing along your clothed clit, the sensation causing you to dampen. “I don’t like you.”

Your head hangs as Jin forces your thighs apart with his knee. You feel helpless, unable to move from this position he has you in. 

“I don’t like people like you who never had to work for anything. Everything is also handed to you on a silver platter, right?” Jin’s free hand hooks beneath the thong. He slides it aside so he can see your clit. It glistens in the bright light of the classroom and he scoffs. “You walked to my desk confident that I’d give you a passing grade just because you’ve asked, right?”

You gasp when Jin’s fingers touch your throbbing clit. He begins to rub, his free hand holding your waist firmly. Dare he say he likes the sight of you - so quiet and submissive over his desk. The princess finally being humbled - something her father couldn’t get her out of. 

“And then you couldn’t even answer my riddle.” Jin scoffs. “You’re truly pathetic, Y/N. You’re going to stand here and allow me to use you as I see fit.”

Your pussy is entirely wet - growing wetter with Jin’s words. This was bad; sinful. You and him couldn’t be doing this, he was your professor. Anyone could walk in at any moment and see this. 

Sure, you were an adult, but Jin had a sense of power over you - and he knew it. It was the sole reason why you and he were in this position now. Students and Professors were forbidden from being in any type of relationship.

“S-Sir…?” your voice is so soft that Jin barely hears it. 

“Do you want to pass, Y/N? Depending on how good you follow directions is the grade you’ll get from my class.”

You swallow.

“Now, open your legs wider.”

You comply, and that was all the consent Jin needed. His fingers find your hole and he begins to slide them in.

You let out a groan when you feel them. Your heart pumps and your head snaps to the closed classroom door. What if someone came in? Another principle? A janitor? A student just like you?

Jin begins to pump his fingers in you. It causes your eyes to flutter away from the classroom door. You were tight and wet, a good combination. Your pussy makes wet squelching sounds as Jin drills his fingers in and out of you.

“This is probably the first time you’ve ever had to work for something, I suppose?” Jin assured. He wants to laugh. Even now you weren’t working hard in the slightest. You were only doing what he told you to - all because you didn’t want your life to change.

Your body is warm with embarrassment, heat flowing through you at Jin’s words. His tone is low and hushed, as if he doesn’t want to be caught speaking in such a manner - how ironic. He’s right behind you and holds majority - if not all - the power between the two of you.

“That’s n-not true.” 

Your voice is meek and lacks all the confidence you’ve once had. It’s laughable to witness in person, truly.

“Oh?” Jin comes closer to you, plump lips right against your ear. “Do enlighten me, Miss Y/L.”

Jin’s fingers are so deep inside of you, scraping your velvety walls that you’re unable to contain the moan that’s bubbling from your throat. The fear that is flowing through you of being caught is adrenaline that’s flowing through Jin. He, however, understands that no one would be coming in to catch either of you. Janitors typically worked overnight when it was quiet and students opted to speak with him via email - he supposed it was easier than dealing with him in person.

“You cannot. Even now you’re not even working hard for your grade.” Jin’s voice is so menacingly low and taunting. “You’re just allowing me to do what I want in hopes I’d give it to you.”

Your throat swells just as your stomach clenches. Your hands continue to squeeze the edge of his desk in frustration - your walls clenching around his pumping fingers. Your eyes squeeze themselves shut as you feel your eyes grow glossy.

Jin’s words were harsh, but they were reality. You hadn’t worked hard for nearly anything in your life, and even now you’re unsure what to do to get what you wanted. It’s the sole reason Jin understands that even if doing this was wrong,  you weren’t going to stop him. 

You weren’t going to report Jin, either, as Jin’s reputation as an introverted professional professor would only discredit your claims. Jin would only state how you come to him in hopes of gaining a better grade by any means necessary - even if it meant stating “false claims”.

Jin’s free hand slides from your hips to between your legs. His fingers capture your sensitive clit and begin to rub. You yelp, eyes snapping open. 

“From here on out, I’ll mold you into a better student overall, Miss Y/L.” Jin snickers darkly. He’s imagining the countless lessons he’d put you through - lessons you need to be a better you.

Jin’s pumping fingers curve a bit. Your arousal is coating his palm entirely, dripping down his wrist. You’re squealing and grunting softly to yourself, heart pumping loudly out your chest. 

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Jin hisses, his fingers pumping even deeper.

“T-thank you.” you huff out. Your knuckles were throbbing with how tight your grip was upon the desk. Your throat continues to swell with your own self-loathing for not fighting Jin off of you - for not proving him wrong about yourself. You were upset with how wet you were, overstimulated  with both of his greedy hands taking control of you.

“Good girl, Miss Y/L.” Jin’s lips are directly against your ear. He knows just how close you are to cumming. “Go ahead and let go,  okay?”

You’re ashamed of yourself for how obedient your body was. The pressure that builds itself in your stomach releases on command. You’re growing limp, your thighs shaking with pleasure you’ve not felt in months. Your hands begin to soften.

Jin removes his fingers from your wet entrance. He slides your thong back into place and takes a step back to examine you. Your thighs are covered in your own lustful slick and your thighs are still shaking. You’re on his desk nearly limp and he wants to laugh at how pathetic you truly looked. 

“8 A.M tomorrow.” Jin speaks, rounding the corner to his desk. “20 minutes before class starts, I want you here.”

Your body moves just as you witness him sit at his desk. Your hands are trembling as you lift your leggings up to cover yourself. Your clit is throbbing between your legs.

“Do you understand, Miss Y/L?”

Your eyes glance up to witness Jin’s hard stare. The sadness behind your eyes causes his plump lips to twitch upwards. Breaking you was easier than he thought.

“Yes.” you nod your head.

It wasn’t until your hand was on his classroom door did Jin speak up. He doesn’t look at you. He’s holding a pen as he grades assignments, glasses back on his eyes.

“A favor.”

You turn towards him, a confused look on your face. “What?” you murmur, audible enough for him to hear.

“What is given without expectation of payment, but often returned with gratitude? Jin repeats the question he has asked you before - the riddle you had to solve in order to raise your grade. “The answer is ‘a favor’.”

You turn away from him, your hand squeezing the doorknob. Your breathing increases.

“It’s also what you’re asking of me. A favor.” Jin is writing so hard that you can hear it from where you stand. “You’re free to go, Miss Y/L.”

After your own internal crisis for the rest of the day, you had returned the following morning. On days in which you didn't have classes, you were typically busy the night before. Parties, for one - no matter how small. You had turned down constant requests just because you knew you had to be in class the following morning.

A class you didn’t have to attend.

You had woken up an hour before and showered, the hot water burning your skin as your mind continued to replay the events of the day prior. The way your professor's demeanor changed entirely. The once lax man had turned to something entirely different - dominant and demeaning. 

You asked yourself countless times already if you liked it. You came, yes, harder than you had before. But it wasn’t as if you were given the chance to process what was going on. It all happened so fast - your leggings being forced down and him touching you so indifferently.

You had been standing outside the classroom for five minutes now, your hand hovering above the door handle. You swallow back the flashbacks that are forming in your mind. 

You could turn around now and go back to your apartment. There’s a possibility that if you did, it was to pack, as your father was paying for it and he already told you that if you didn’t fix your grades, he wouldn’t be anymore.

You could tell someone - anyone - of what has happened here. But would they believe you? Professor Kim is a highly respected professor in this college. He was well liked by students and faculty. He was known for being very respectable and not forming relationships with students - even platonic ones. He always had let it be known that he was not interested in being friends with any of his students - all of his socials were private and he only gave out his work email and phone number, never personal ones.

In conclusion, no one would believe you, the tiny voice in your head tells you. That, and you also never told him to stop.

Jin looks up from his notes when he hears the door creek open. You’re right on time, and if he wasn’t paying attention to your shadow outside his door, he wouldn’t have known you were out there the entire time.

“Miss Y/L. How kind of you to join me.”

You close the door behind you. You don’t move from your spot in front of it until Jin waves you over. You notice his desk has changed from the middle of the room, to the far right. The projector screen that’s usually rolled up is now down and the lights are dim. 

“How are you this morning?”

“Good.” you reply, not meeting his eye. He’s sporting a black, long sleeved shirt and dress pants that appear pressed of no imperfections or wrinkles. His belt is tied firmly around his waist, an action you see once he leans back into his desk chair.

“That’s good.” Jin goes into one of his desk drawers and pulls out a tiny, square box. “I wanted to give you this.”

The box is black in color and solid, no lettering at all. You’re hesitant to grab it, but do it nonetheless. The entire time, Jin is watching you closely. He examines your reaction upon opening it, your face contorting to that of sheer embarrassment.

“I want you to wear it.”

You look up just as Jin speaks. His face hasn’t changed from his serious expression and his tone matches that.

You glance back down inside the box, the contents of it a pair of lace panties, the only part that’s cotton is the part where your crotch will be at.

“You don’t like it?”

You lower your arms, glancing away. You take a deep breath and shake your head. “I like it.” you speak, but you don’t even try to sound convincing.

Jin snickers. “Put them on.”

“N-Now?” you question. 

“Well I certainly didn’t stutter, now did I, Miss. Y/L?”

No, he didn’t. 

“Right now.”

Jin doesn’t intend on making anything easier on you. He enjoys watching you squirm. You remove your shoes, then your jeans. You feel entirely exposed and contemplate turning around to keep whatever dignity you had left, but you don’t want to set him off.

“Hand it over to me.” Jin holds out his palm for your current panties. Shakily, you do as you’re told. “Your jeans, as well.”

“W-What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Miss Y/L.” Jin speaks, a tint of annoyance.

Hesitantly, you do as you’re told. Your eyes flicker to the classroom door. He had a class soon and there's no way in hell you were going to sit half naked for the entirety of the class period. 

“You’re an obedient little whore, aren’t you?” Jin chuckles, the word sliding off his tongue smoothly. You feel entirely exposed, a shiver running up your spine.

“Take everything else off besides the underwear.”

“Sir-”

“I wasn’t asking.” Jin interrupts. “You do as you’re told, or you leave.”

Just what was he planning? There’s no way anything could happen when there was only 15 minutes until class began.

You’re stiff removing your shirt, then bra. Your nipples are erect now due to the lack of warmth covering your body. Jin’s eyes are staring straight at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Come here.”

Your body moves on autopilot. You’re standing right in front of him, unable to see Jin’s eye.

“Come sit.”

Your heart is pounding. The only place there was to sit was on his lap. You go to do just that, when he signals you to sit facing him directly.

“You look scared, Miss Y/L.” Jin murmurs. “Are you?”

“...No.” you admit. You weren’t scared of him exactly - more scared of being caught doing whatever he was going to have you do.

“That’s good. You shouldn’t be.” Jin leans forward. “I’m not forcing you to do anything, right?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. “No.” you mumble.

“That’s right.” Jin nods. He places his left hand onto your hip to keep you steady on his lap. “Lean back against the desk.”

Your body flinches at the cold surface of his desk, but you remain silent. Your breast is on full display for him and he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s staring at them.

“Today’s class is going to be boring.” Jin says. “I have to show them a video for them to take notes. They’ll probably be asleep within the first 20 minutes.”

You swallow.

“You’ll stay right here with me.”

“I-I can’t-”

“You will.” Jin roams his left hand up your sides. Goosebumps litter across your skin, his head coming closer. “They won’t see  you.”

Your eyes watch through hooded eyes as Jin places a nipple into his mouth. You’re pressed firmly against him and you gasp when you feel it.

The feeling is surreal and it gives you the same reaction as to when you felt his fingers in you the day prior. His tongue twirls around your perky nipple, playing with it in his mouth. 

Jin doesn’t need to look at the tiny remote in his right hand to press the button. You squeal at the sudden vibration you feel right between your legs.

“S-Sir…!”

You pondered why the panties were designed this way, but now you understand what were hidden inside of them. The small vibrator sends shock waves throughout your body. Add the way Jin goes between both of your breasts, suckling and tugging at your nipples, you were going over the edge.

Your eyes flutter close, both hands settling on his shoulders. You’re unsure what to do but allow him to have his way with you. You’re stuck between right and wrong - and this was entirely wrong. But you’d be lying if you said that the adrenaline wasn’t going through you right now. That the thought of you being here at Jin’s complete mercy, vibrator against your clit while he sucks onto your chest wasn’t exciting.

“You look like you’re having fun, Miss Y/L.”

Your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. Your eyes open slowly to look at him in the dim classroom lighting, immediately regretting it.

“Sir…” you trail off, unsure what to say.

“Go ahead.” Jin leans back against his desk chair. There was 8 minutes left until class started and that meant he had about 6 of those minutes to make you cum. “I want you to cum, Miss Y/L. Do whatever it is you have to in order to do that.”

Those words shouldn’t make you hot, but they do. It’s then you notice the small remote in his right hand controlling the vibrator. His thumb presses a button and you’re feeling more intense vibration shoot at your core.

Your eyes are fluttering immediately and without much thought, your hips buckle right on his lap. And against his clothed cock.

Jin can feel the vibration just as you do, but he holds off the moan that wants to fall past his plump lips. He watches you with intense eyes as you grind against him, your hands that are on his shoulders begin to squeeze them.

You never would have thought you’d be in this situation with Professor Kim out of all people - not like you’ve ever imagined it with any professor. It all feels surreal, truly. Your mind begins to forget that there’s students piling the hallways outside and soon, would be coming into this very class. They didn’t need to see you and Jin in such a compromising position.

“This is the hardest you’ve ever had to work for your grade, huh?” Jin snickers. His left hand roams your body, settling from your breast until he slides it down to your hips. “You’re dripping all over me.”

You’re positive you were. The vibration right against your sensitive clit was too much to handle. “I’m sorry.” you murmur out with a short moan following it. “Feels g-good.”

Jin licks his lips. He already knows how wet you can get, but what if you were even wetter than yesterday? You were dripping all over his dress pants like a little whore in heat.

“I know it does, Miss Y/L.” Jin places a hand on your face. It’s warm to the touch and it causes you to gasp. His thumb traces your lips while he tries to contain himself. It was hard for him not to bend you over right now and fuck you like he knows you want him to. Class was going to start in another 4 minutes anyways. Whatever he wanted from you was going to have to wait until after.

Until your tongue trails out and captures Jin’s thumb, suckling onto it hungrily. Your thighs were quivering with pleasure, eyes snapped shut. He watches the way you whimper as you suck on his thumb, your mind possibly wishing it was something else entirely.

“You little whore…you must really want a good grade.” Jin hisses. His cock is hard against your vibrating pussy and as you’re cumming, he can hear the footsteps down the hall.

You’re still catching your breath when the vibration is shut off. Your gripping fingers begin to soften and you hoped he didn’t mind the slight wrinkles on his shirt.

“Let’s see how much you really want a good grade, Miss Y/L.”

Your ears capture the close footsteps and your eyes open with a snap. Jin doesn’t move, and you’re positive there's no time for you to get dressed and remove yourself from this situation.

“Sir-”

“Get underneath the desk.” Jin commands just as the door creaks open. You drop without another word, your nearly naked body hiding beneath his desk. You’re surprised how spacious it actually is under here.

“Come on in.”

Jin’s voice lightens a bit. He’s back to being the Professor Jin you all know. He rolls his chair back and you feel exposed, but you understood no one went behind his desk. Your lips are snapped shut and you don’t even want to breathe, far too afraid of being caught in this position.

“Today is a more relaxed day. I’m going to allow you to get as much information as possible with this video. You can use whatever notes you have on the exam.”

“You call this relaxed?” one boy says with a groan.

“When’s the exam?” asks another student - a girl.

“Whenever I decide to give it out. You’ll know the day of.” Jin state. The dim lights turn off completely and you’re left in the darkness underneath his desk. You take a deep breath - it was going to be a long hour.

Jin starts the video and it booms off of the classroom walls. It’s so loud that the desk vibrates slightly with the bass of it. You’re a bit started when Jin comes back to focus, only sparing you a slight glance before looking away.

You’re only on your knees for a slight moment before the vibration returns. You let out a slight moan that’s muffled with the sound of the video - was this his plan all along? You can make out his face in the dark when the video brightens him, but the room is so dark that you’re sure the other students cannot.

“S-Sir….” you whisper, widening your thighs so that you can feel the vibrator deeper against your already wet core. Your hands place themselves onto his knees.

Jin’s eyes snap to you. Even in the dark, you appear as whore-like as before. Your eyes are straining to remain open and your lips are parted. Only he can hear the soft whimpers you’re releasing.

Jin places a hand on your head and pats it slightly. The action is demeaning, you’re positive, as if you were some type of obedient pet. But at the moment, you don’t care. You’re riding off  another orgasm that’s bubbling through your body.

Jin’s hand slides down to your face and your tongue repeats the actions of earlier, twirling it in your mouth. Jin’s eyes harden at you, his cock pressing hard against his dress pants. Your hands slide up from his knees to his thighs, inching closer and closer to his clothed cock. You’re hesitant, of course, as he never made any mention of wanting to actually go there with you. You assumed so seeing as he’s had you in such sultry positions twice already.

Jin doesn’t stop you from undoing his belt or his buttons. Your hands tug at his underwear, the cotton briefs showcasing just how hard he was. He had a good poker face as you’d never notice if you hadn’t seen (or felt it) for yourself.

The vibration rises and you’re having a hard time not squealing louder. The only way you could contain yourself was by placing his pink cock in your mouth, groaning as your hips buckled against nothing.

Jin licks his lips before biting it. He glanced up at the class and as he suspected, only a selected few were paying attention. He witnesses a few phones and some sleeping figures. He doesn’t care now - not when your mouth is wrapped around his cock.

Your hand wraps around the shaft of Jin’s cock as you suckle on the tip. Your eyes are closed and Jin just knows you’re enjoying this. You were such a whore, he thinks, willing to do whatever it took so your lifestyle didn’t change. Your head bobs up and down as your hands squeeze his cock, thrusting with the same pace.

Jin’s hand is rough in your hair, but you don’t care and it’s already known that he doesn’t either. His cock hits the back of your throat easily. You’re so wet that the action causes your throat to vibrate, mimicking that of the one pressed against your soaked core.

Jin continues to thrust into your mouth, glancing up every few moments to assure no one was watching him - but he was in a dark corner and secured.

Glancing back down, Jin continues his pace. Your ears are watery, but the action is so lewd that it sends another wave of pleasure through you. You’re fully dripping all over yourself and the floor. The video is so loud that no one but you and Jin can hear the squelching sounds coming from him fucking your mouth.

“Such a dirty little whore you are, Miss Y/L.” Jin murmurs, his wet cock continuing to hit your throat with each thrust.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out - again and again until  you feel the salty warmth fill your mouth. Your eyes are rolling, your hips buckle. Your clit is swollen with overstimulation and your body is trembling. The pressure building up inside of you pours out of you and onto the ground in thick puddles.

next part 4/11/25

final part 4/13/25

@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @investedreader @momnomnom

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ ksj: buy me presents ❆•꙳

in which you and your boyfriend, jin, do a gift exchange... you get him a new game console and he gifts you his credit card

series m.list // taglist

note: pretty intimate..... idk..... holy shit !!!!

warning: body worship, spitting, fingering, jin eats her ass and pussy ??? choking, raw sex, missionary, doggy, anal !!!! oc's legs are over her head at one point, and jin has a big cock (duh)

//

the christmas tree bathes the room in a soft, golden glow, its twinkling lights dancing over the crinkled wrapping paper scattered across the floor. the scent of cinnamon and pine lingers, weaving through the faint melody of holiday music humming softly from the speaker perched on the shelf.

you’re cross-legged on the rug, knees almost brushing seokjin’s, his gaze fixed on you with that familiar mix of curiosity and warmth. the final gift for him sits in your lap, its weight pressing into your palms, making your heart skip with a giddy kind of anticipation.

“okay, this is the big one,” you say, nudging the box toward him.

he eyes it suspiciously, his head tilting like he’s trying to solve a riddle without all the clues. “what is it?”

“just open it, jin,” you reply, leaning back on your hands, and biting back a grin.

he makes a show of inspecting the wrapping job first, his fingers tracing the perfectly folded edges. 

“you wrapped this, didn’t you?”

“obviously.”

“of course you did,” he mutters, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “it’s too perfect. how am i supposed to rip this open?”

“you could just do it,” you tease, gesturing impatiently. “before i take it back—”

immediately, he starts peeling the paper. he’s careful at first, then impatient when the box beneath reveals itself. when he lifts the lid, the air between you shifts.

“no way,” he breathes, staring at the pristine, matte-black console nestled inside. “a PS5?”

“yeah. do you like it?” you ask, your grin widening as his eyes flicker between the console and you, disbelief written all over his face.

but then he spots the second item tucked beneath it, a signed copy of valorant with the unmistakable signature of ninja, his favorite streamer.

“you’re kidding,” he says, pulling the case out with both hands like it’s the holy grail.

“merry christmas!” you say softly, watching as his lips part, his expression stuck somewhere between awe and amazement.

“this is—how did you even—” he trails off, his thumb brushing over the sharpie scrawl. “ninja… how? h-how’d you do this?”

“turns out he’s not that hard to track down if you know the right people,” you reply with a shrug, trying to play it cool even though your chest feels warm from how happy he looks. “he’s pretty nice too. chill guy.”

“you talked to him?”

“yeah. he said you’re handsome.”

jin sets the case down gently, like it’s made of glass, and reaches over to grab your hands, pulling you closer.

“this is insane,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s still processing it all. “you’re insane.”

“in a good way, right?”

“the best way,” he says, squeezing your hands before letting go and reaching for the console again. “i seriously don’t know how i’m supposed to top this. thank you, love.”

he reaches for you. you kiss him softly and giggle against his lips. he doesn’t want to let go of you just yet. seokjin leans in again, kissing you more. 

laughing, you pull away and reach your arms out to him. 

“my turn!” 

seokjin reaches behind him and takes out his present. his fingers nervously trace the edge of the ribbon tied around the small box in his hands. he looks at you, then at the box, then back at you, and finally thrusts it forward.

“here,” he says, voice low and almost embarrassed. “merry christmas, love.”

you take it gently, the velvet box cool against your palms. the name cartier gleams faintly on the lid, and your heart jumps. you glance up at him, but his eyes are fixed on the floor, his knee bouncing slightly.

lifting the lid, you see it—a thin gold promise ring, the dainty diamond catching the glow of the lights. 

it’s beautiful, understated in a way that feels so seokjin.

before you can say a word, he shifts forward, his hand brushing yours as he lifts the cushion beneath the ring. 

“there’s, uh… also this,” he mutters, revealing his sleek black credit card tucked underneath. he groans softly, his ears burning pink as he stumbles through his explanation. 

“to be so honest with you… i didn’t know what else to get you. the ring—it’s been in my sock drawer for 2 months. i couldn’t think, i ran out of time, and… i’m sorry. your present was so much better than mine. i feel so bad—”

your fingers tighten around the box, a laugh bubbling out of you before you can stop it. “seokjin,” you say, shaking your head, “this is perfect. thank you so much, love.”

he blinks at you, a little uncertain, and you reach for his hands, tugging him closer until your knees bump. 

“seokjin, i love it,” you murmur. “i love you.”

he exhales, shoulders relaxing as a small smile pulls at his lips. he takes the ring with careful hands, holding it like something precious. 

“this isn’t just a christmas gift,” he says softly, slipping it onto your finger. his eyes meet yours, steady and warm. “it’s a promise. i promise to take care of you, to make you laugh, to be patient when you’re stubborn and to listen when you need me to... and i promise to give you a better christmas gift next year… and the year after that. the year after that… and the year after—”

“i get it,” you laugh. “you could give me a paper ring and i’d still love it.”

he rolls his eyes, partly because he knows you’re telling the truth and partly because it’s riddiculous that he’d ever give you a paper ring. come on. he’s fucking rich and the ideal provider man. a paper ring? he’s not here to play games—10 carat ring minimum for your engagement (which he’s in the middle of planning). 

seokjin takes your hand and slips the ring on your 4th finger. 

“it fits,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over the ring now resting on your finger.

“it fits,” you echo, the corners of your mouth lifting as you admire the delicate band.

the mall is bustling with last-minute shoppers, but none of it phases you as you tug seokjin along, weaving through the crowd with his hand firmly clasped in yours. he follows you willingly, even when you pause outside a lingerie store, the display mannequins clad in delicate lace and silk.

you glance back at him, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. 

“what do you think? should i?”

his eyes widen slightly, his ears already tinged pink.

“uh—yeah. yes. absolutely.”

you giggle, dragging him inside.

a few minutes later, you’re behind a curtain, slipping into the first set—a soft pink number that feels like it was made for you.

“jin,” you call out, peeking your head through the curtain. “ready?”

“more than ready,” he replies, his voice slightly strained.

when you step out, his reaction is immediate. his jaw slackens, and he leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as he takes you in.

“oh my god,” he mutters, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “you’re—wow.”

you do a playful spin, the fabric fluttering lightly. “so? should i get it?”

“get all of them,” he says without hesitation. “max out the card. please."

seokjin fears he might cum too fast tonight.

you’re wearing one out of the literal twelve sets and he can’t breathe. as his fred chain dangles above you, he leans down to kiss you. before he does, he pauses.

his presence fills the space like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. his eyes that have you pinned. dark and searching, like he’s memorizing every detail of you, every breath you take.

“you’re so…” his voice trails off, soft and low, like he’s lost the words somewhere between his chest and yours. his hand lifts, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw, then settling there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you tilt your head up, heart thundering in your chest as his thumb grazes your cheek, his touch both gentle and deliberate. he leans down even more, slow enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“love,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch, like he’s asking permission, like he’s afraid of what happens when he finally gives in. but then he does—closing the space between you, his mouth firm and soft all at once, his other hand slipping to your waist to hold you steady.

he kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s ever been sure of, his frame looming over you, protective and unyielding. his fingers tighten at your jaw, tilting your face just so, and when he deepens the kiss.

you grasp at his polo, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep yourself upright, and he makes this low, quiet sound in the back of his throat… it’s like the idea of you falling is too much. his lips leave yours for a moment, just long enough for him to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispers, his voice a little ragged, his thumb brushing once more against your cheek before his lips find yours again. “i love you so much.”

before you know it, he shifts, kissing you from your lips to down your neck. then, over your breasts. gently, he tugs on your new lace bra and reveals your breasts. he kisses them, finding your nipples along the way. sucking them, you let out a moan. 

then, he moves down. 

down to your stomach. 

down to your hips where he bites them. 

then, finally…

“all that lingerie shopping only for me to take it off of you, huh?” 

you giggle as he lifts your legs to get a better view of your pussy in the lace lingerie. he lets out a groan, admiring the way your body looks. quickly, he takes his shirt off and shifts out of his boxers. he’s totally naked now and you can’t help but admire his build. 

he’s so… strong. his body is so fucking lean and the way his muscle are carved makes it so difficult for you to not be soaking wet. 

and god… his cock?

his perfect cock. 

seokjin’s cock has to be the best one you’ve ever seen. actually, it’s the only one you’ve ever seen. you’ve been in a relationship with him since your early 20s and he was the one to take your virginity. when you talk about sex with your friends, you can’t help but feel sorry for them. 

not because their sex stories are mid… but because they don’t know how good you have it. how fucking good seokjin gives it to you. 

he always makes you cum first.

he’s good at foreplay—sometimes you cum so fast and hard that you sob. 

despite his size (which is an XL), he truly knows how to fuck. he’s so hot. all his mannerisms and the way he maneuvers during sex make your inside tighten and flip over. it’s almost indescribable how good he makes you feel during sex… just the thought alone of having sex with him gets you wet. to be in this position? underneath him, wearing the lingerie he bought you? 

you’re as wet as a fucking rain forest. 

and he knows. 

“so wet, love.”

“i know.”

“for me?”

“only for you.”

he smirks as he takes his cock and gives himself a few lazy pumps. he brings one of your legs over his shoulder and pushes the fabric to the side. he then drags the tip of his cock around your entrance. he taps on it and lowers his head to spit on your clit. jin takes a moment to massage his saliva into your clit, earning moans from you. 

“wanna play with you,” he mumbles. “but i… i can’t. you’re so pretty right now, love. can i just tell you that? you’re so perfect. i love the way your tits…” 

he pauses and caresses them. you get goosebumps. 

“they’re so plump. i love how they fit in my hands and… i love it when i stuff my face in them. so fucking perfect… and your neck,” seokjin’s hand trails up to your neck. he cups them, lightly choking you. “i love it when i wrap my hands around them. so dainty. so perfect for me…”

then, he cups your face and tuns his thumb over your lips. 

“pretty lips too… love it when they’re wrapped around my cock. love it when you kiss me and i bite them. i love how they feel agaisnt my skin… y-you’re… so fucking beautiful, love. your body is my favourite thing in this world. it’s my favourite gift. what did i do to deserve you?”

as you’re about to reply, you let out a small gasp as he pushes himself inside you. 

you squirm, trying to adjust to the sudden harsh push. his cock is hard and long, you feel it reach your guts. 

he stays still for a moment, lowering his body and kissing your neck. in your ear, he murmurs; “you okay?”

“mhm.. so big, love.”

“sorry,” he chuckles. “do you want me to pull out? i didn’t stretch you out… just… just wanted to be in you.”

“it’s okay,” you tell him, reaching to fix his hair. “can i have a minute, though?”

he nods with a soft smile. “of course, love. let me know when i can move.”

you nod and he continues to kiss your neck. he sucks on it, working on giving you a hickey. you try to relax your upper body and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. the sharpness of his cock inside you eases for a moment and you take that as a sign. 

“ready,” you whisper. “softly please.” 

seokjin moans in response as he gently thrusts inside you. 

he plants his forearms around you and pushes himself in deeper. his chain dangles on top and you watch it, trying to distract yourself from the burn. soon, you adjust and begin to feel the pleasure. when you feel it, you wrap your legs around his torso. jin takes note and begins to fuck you faster. you hold onto him, unable to stop yourself from moaning and groaning. 

he grunts a few times, feeling your warm pussy tighten around him. 

“jin…”

“yes, love?”

“doggy?” 

you don’t have to tell him twice. 

seokjin pulls out and gets up from the bed. he stands on the edge as you get on all fours. you arch your back as he takes your lace pantie and tugs it to the side. he slips his cock back in and you let out a shaky moan. 

he begins to fuck you, his pelvis hitting your ass loud and fast. 

“this ass….” seokjin breathes in awe. he slaps it before squeezing it. “god, it’s so perfect. look at your curves… love, you’re so perfect. i want to buy every piece of lingerie the world has to offer. you need to be on display… you’re so fucking perfect, my love. oh fuck, i… wow, this ass is so fucking big, i wish i could—f-fuck. let me just—”

without warning, he pulls out and kneels. seokjin shoves his face in your ass and begins to eat you out. he digs himself under, running his nose through your folds and a little on your clit. next thing you know, he’s running his tongue all the way your asshole. you yelp. 

“anal?” he requests. 

“sure.” you breathe, “can you do the thing—”

without hesitation, he stands up and reaches for your neck. he grips it tightly, choking you with a good pleasure. seokjin then runs his hand through your pussy and spreads your wetness into the rim of your ass. he spits on his cock, spreading the saliva to make it more slippery. then, he shoves it inside. 

you breathe in the sharpness and pleasure. 

seokjin chokes you a little harder as he fucks your ass. 

"fuck. you're so tight... so fucking tight... i love you. thank you for letting me have this... love fucking your ass, love."

"mhmm," you moan. "feels so good... cock so big, jin. i love it."

then, you cough and he lets go. 

his hands move to your hips, holding them steady as he fucks you. your body follows and he watches in disbelief how lucky he is to have you. 

then, his fingers find their way to your clit. underneath, he plays with you. you throw your head back from how fucking good it all feels. he plays with your pussy, flicking, pinching, and fingering you. 

“selfish little thing,” seokjin hums. “you want it all, don’t you? you like it when i fuck you in the ass and play with your pussy. i choke you and you love it. i… i give you everything. i love to do this, you know? i love giving you everything.”

you moan at his words. 

then, you hear him pant and feel him fuck you harder. 

“f-fuck,” he stutters. 

then, a few seconds later, as you feel his dick twitch—he pulls out. 

not to cum. 

but to flip you over. 

he kisses you while his hands guide your legs to go over your head. he stretches you, and you almost sob from the way your pussy pulsates. aside from all the fucking positions and everything you two have done so far—he’s also fucking insanely handsome. 

his innocent face and soft features contradict so much of what he’s done to you tonight. 

he takes your hands and tells you to hold the position. wrapping your arms around your legs, he kneels over and spits in your pussy again. you watch as his saliva slips inside you. then, he takes his cock and runs the head over your pussy. he pushes the tip in and then takes it out. he drags it down to your ass, lifts you a bit, and does the same to your asshole. 

“which one should i fuck? i love both equally.” 

you pout. 

“my pussy, please.”

he smirks lazily. “so polite.”

then, he shoves his hard, thick, long cock inside your pussy. 

he pumps himself inside and out of you. his eyebrows furrow from the pleasure and you feel him stiffen on top of you. you clench your pussy as you feel it throb. he fucks you through the sensation. 

“jin…” you breathe. “i’m… i’m gonna cum—oh my g-god—”

he slaps your pussy. 

then, he fucks you harder. 

“can’t this pretty pussy take more?”

you pout at him. 

“i’m… i’m s-so close,” you let out a sob. “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles and lowers himself. he kisses you and swats your hands away from your legs. finally, you let them go and lay properly. his hands then roam your body as he kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;

“sorry, sorry.. got carried away. i love you, ___. sorry, love.”

as he fucks you, you forgive him. “it’s okay, love.”

“love, you cum if you want.”

you shift and give him a tired smile. 

“but you said not to."

"don't listen to me," he huffs. "i lose my mind whenever i'm inside you."

you giggle and kiss him once. twice. and then a third time before suggesting; "soft, lazy, sloppy missionary? think i can last longer.”

seokjin chuckles and nods. he kisses the top of your head and wraps himself around you. 

“whatever you want, love. i'm gonna give you everything.”

[katnipp]

wait for fluffy could i request chaewon being goofy and loser-ish trying to impress reader? :(

you make losing feel like winning— kim chaewon

genre: fluff

synopsis: chaewon joins running man to win games—but ends up falling for y/n instead. repeatedly. literally.

warnings: chaewon is a major LOSER

—

opening scene – call time, 7:00 am

you arrive on set groggy and slightly regretting your life choices. it’s barely morning, but the running man crew is already hyped. ha ha’s shouting about breakfast, ji hyo has her sunglasses on, and seokjin’s loudly wondering why he agreed to this episode. you stretch, yawn, and glance around—

and that’s when she walks in.

chaewon. in a stupidly oversized hoodie, iced americano in one hand, sunglasses pushed halfway up her nose. she spots you immediately, trips over a cable, and almost spills her coffee.

you blink.

she straightens like nothing happened and waves way too enthusiastically. “hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!”

“we were both invited, chaewon.”

“right, right,” she nods, sipping her drink. “but like… still. fate.”

you raise an eyebrow. “you okay?”

“me? totally. normal. calm.”

then she turns around and walks straight into the boom mic pole.

⸻

scene one – team introductions

PD: “today’s special guests are chaewon from le sserafim and rising actress y/n!”

you wave politely. chaewon does finger guns.

jae-suk squints at her. “what’s with you today?”

“nothing!” she says. “i’m just happy! and fine! and—hey, can i be on y/n’s team?”

the entire cast groans in unison.

“of course you want to be,” says ji hyo, deadpan.

“i just think we’d have good… strategy chemistry,” chaewon mumbles, avoiding your eyes.

“is strategy chemistry a thing?” you ask.

chaewon shrugs. “it is now.”

⸻

scene two – inflatable race from hell

you and chaewon are on the same team. unfortunately, that means you have to watch her flail in a giant red sumo suit as she attempts to run across a soap-covered track.

you do well—elegant, swift, flag in hand. the crew claps. jae-suk calls you “the gazelle of this generation.”

chaewon, watching you from the sidelines, whispers: “she’s an angel.”

seokjin side-eyes her. “you’re sweating.”

“i’m emotionally overwhelmed.”

when it’s her turn, she turns to you dramatically.

“this one’s for you, y/n. i won’t let you down.”

you smile, amused. “please don’t fall.”

“i never fall.”

she takes one confident step—

and immediately eats it.

her arms flail. she slides sideways like a bowling pin. the crew loses it. balloons fly, seokjin yells something incoherent, and the camera zooms in on her stunned face as she lies flat on the mat.

“cool,” you say, chuckling. “very cool.”

chaewon lifts a thumb. “nailed it.”

⸻

scene three – water balloon dodgeball

everyone’s wet, tired, and competitive. you’re across from chaewon now, both armed with water balloons.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” she calls out dramatically.

“it’s a water balloon, not a sniper rifle.”

“still! my love knows no violence!”

“you just hit ha ha in the face!”

“he was coming at me!”

ha ha, drenched and scowling: “i was fixing my shoe!”

you throw a balloon. it lands square on chaewon’s chest.

she gasps, staggered, then points at you. “betrayal!”

“you said no violence. i didn’t.”

“you’re cold,” she says, fake-pouting.

“and you’re wet.”

jae-suk: “can you two flirt after we finish the game?!”

⸻

scene four – break time, post-chaos

everyone’s sitting under tents, fanning themselves and scarfing down kimbap. chaewon plops down beside you, still damp, still trying to play it cool.

“so,” she says, trying to sound casual. “did i impress you yet?”

you look at her. her hair’s frizzy. her shirt’s sticking to her back. she has a water balloon remnant clinging to her sock.

you grin. “you’re really asking that right now?”

“i need performance feedback.”

you sip your drink. “well… you’re definitely entertaining.”

“i was going for charming.”

“you were mostly screaming.”

“but like—charmingly screaming?”

you nod thoughtfully. “sure. in a golden retriever kinda way.”

she pouts. “i was aiming for smooth and mysterious.”

you pat her shoulder. “next time.”

chaewon mutters something about recalibrating her entire personality.

⸻

scene five – final round: name tag chase

everyone’s hyped. this is the iconic game. the energy’s tense. alliances are forming. betrayal’s in the air.

you’re hiding behind a door when you hear footsteps. chaewon appears, looking around.

you’re about to run, but she sees you—and immediately holds her hands up.

“don’t!” she says. “i’m unarmed!”

“you have two hands.”

“i surrender! please, let me live.”

“why should i?”

“because if you let me live, i’ll treat you to dinner after this.”

you pause.

“…bribery? really?”

“it’s not bribery, it’s incentive!”

you step closer. she closes her eyes like she’s about to be executed.

instead, you flick her name tag lightly, then step back.

“you live. barely.”

she opens one eye. “wait, really?”

“i like dinner.”

she looks absolutely starstruck. “you’re amazing.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“perfect match,” she says, smirking.

you turn to walk away, and she yells after you: “this is the best day of my life!!”

jae-suk, down the hall: “can someone take her mic away?!”

⸻

final interview

chaewon sits in front of the camera, hair messy, shirt still damp.

“did i win any games? no. did i trip five times? yes. but… she smiled at me. she called me a golden retriever. and i’m taking her to dinner.”

she grins.

“so yeah. mission: accomplished.”

—

a/n: i need kim chaewon BADLY👅

[minxmut-cafe]

FUCKING MACHINE

Pairing : BTS Members x Reader.

Warning : smut, dirty talk, uses of a fucking machine, accidental voyeurism.

Authors note : Ehe.

Synopsis :

They come home expecting a nice warm welcome but the sight that greets them...oh my

NAMJOON

You don’t hear the front door open.

You don’t hear the keys dropping onto the table or the sound of footsteps moving through the apartment. You’re too far gone—too deep in your own world, panting, trembling, as the machine works its relentless pace, dragging out pleasure until you’re barely coherent.

But you do hear his voice.

"Baby?"

Your eyes snap open, panic flashing through you just as you feel the weight of his presence in the doorway.

Namjoon is standing there.

Still in his airport clothes, a backpack slung over one shoulder, his face slack with shock. His lips part slightly, his brows furrow, and for a moment—just a moment—he doesn’t move.

His gaze flicks down. And then he sees.

Sees the machine. Sees you, trembling, ruined, with your thighs spread wide to take every inch of the thick, pulsing replica of his cock. Sees how your body jerks every time it fills you, how your chest heaves, your lips parted on silent, desperate cries.

Sees everything.

His breath stutters. His fingers tighten around the strap of his bag.

"What…what are you doing?"

His voice is so soft. Confused. Almost innocent.

But then he notices—how wrecked you are. How long you must’ve been at this. How your pretty eyes roll back, how hoarse your cries sound, how your body twitches like you’ve already come too many times to count.

"Oh, baby."

The backpack drops.

Your whole body locks up when you see his shoulders tense—the way his throat bobs as he swallows hard, the way his usually gentle eyes darken into something you’ve never seen before.

"Turn it off." His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s not a request.

With shaking fingers, you fumble for the remote, pressing the button to shut the machine off. The moment it stops, your body collapses, a wrecked whimper falling from your lips at the sudden loss.

And then—Namjoon is on you.

"Baby…" His large hands are everywhere—cupping your cheek, stroking your trembling thighs, his brows drawn together as he takes in your wrecked state. "How long have you been doing this?"

You can barely think, barely speak, but when you don’t answer fast enough, Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the base of the toy still inside you, shifting it slightly—just enough to make your body jolt.

"Too long," he murmurs, answering his own question.

Your breath hitches. "Joonie—"

"Shh." He presses his forehead to yours, his voice achingly soft, but his grip on the toy tightens. "Baby, you know I love you, right?"

You nod frantically.

"You know I’d do anything for you?"

Another nod.

His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. "Then tell me, sweetheart—why did you need this when I’m right here?"

Tears prick your eyes. "I missed you—"

"Oh, baby." His voice is so sweet, so full of warmth, but the way he pulls the toy out in one slow, devastating motion is anything but.

A broken sob rips from your throat. Your walls clench around nothing, your body aching with the loss, but Namjoon just watches—eyes dark, lips parted, fingers twitching as he studies the toy now slick and glistening in his hand.

And then, he does something unexpected.

He brings it to his lips.

Drags his tongue along the length—his length—tasting the evidence of just how badly you needed him. His eyes flutter shut, a deep, guttural groan vibrating in his chest.

And when he opens them again—

"I think it’s time you remember why the real thing is better."

And then—he ruins you all over again.

KIM SEOK JIN.

"Honey, I’m home!"

Seokjin’s voice is full of warmth, lighthearted as he kicks off his shoes, already smiling at the thought of surprising you. He wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, but the thought of seeing you sooner had been too tempting.

But then—

He hears it.

A soft, rhythmic whirring. A noise that doesn’t belong. A noise coming from your bedroom.

His brows furrow. He steps closer, the sound growing clearer with each step—accompanied by something else. Something wrecked.

A moan.

His stomach tightens.

Jin reaches the doorway, pushing it open with ease, ready to call out to you—

And then he sees.

Sees you—spread out on the bed, shaking, your hands clutching the sheets as your body jerks helplessly with every deep thrust of the machine. Sees the way your pretty mouth falls open, drool glistening on your lips, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

Sees the thick, veined toy inside you.

And then—realization hits.

Because he knows that shape. That curve. That size.

It’s him.

His first reaction is disbelief. His second is offense.

"Are you kidding me?"

Your whole body jolts. Eyes fluttering open, you meet his gaze—wide, shocked, completely fucked out.

"J-Jin—"

He scoffs. Actually scoffs.

"So let me get this straight—" He crosses his arms, looking so unimpressed despite the flush creeping up his neck. "I leave for one tour, and suddenly I’m replaceable?"

You whimper, trying to reach for the remote, but Jin is faster.

He snatches it before you can, holding it up with a slow, dangerous smirk.

"Oh, no. You wanted this, right? You went out of your way to get a perfect replica of me—so why don’t we see how well it compares?"

Before you can protest, Jin’s thumb presses down.

The machine speeds up.

A cry rips from your throat, your body convulsing as the mechanical thrusts deepen, pushing you right to the edge again.

Jin watches.

Leaning casually against the wall, he studies the way you fall apart—how your back arches, how your legs shake, how your lips tremble. His tongue clicks against his teeth, his head tilting slightly.

"Mm. I don’t know, sweetheart—" His voice is mocking. "You look like you’re enjoying this a little too much."

Tears gather at the corners of your eyes. You’re so close, right there, just one more second—

And then—

Click.

The machine shuts off.

You sob.

"Aw, baby." Jin pouts dramatically, tossing the remote onto the bed. "Did I ruin it for you?"

You glare at him, but it’s weak—your body too wrecked, too needy to do anything but tremble.

Jin chuckles, finally stepping forward. He kneels on the bed, his warm hands gliding up your shaky thighs, his gaze softening—just slightly.

"You really missed me that much, huh?" His voice drops, his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles into your skin. "Couldn’t wait for the real thing?"

You nod frantically, lower lip trembling. "Jin, please—"

"Shh." He leans in, lips brushing over yours, but not quite kissing. "I got you, baby. Let me remind you why the original is always better."

MIN YOONGI

You’re completely gone.

Sweat clings to your skin, legs trembling, fingers gripping the sheets in a desperate attempt to ground yourself as the machine continues its relentless pace.

You don’t hear the door open.

You don’t hear the soft shuffle of footsteps.

You don’t even sense him until—

"Huh."

Your entire body freezes.

Your heart stops.

And then, in pure horror, your head snaps toward the door.

Yoongi.

Standing there.

One hand in his pocket, the other holding a plastic bag—probably takeout from his favorite spot.

Expression?

Completely. Blank.

Oh, fuck.

You scramble to shut the machine off, body still twitching from the aftershocks, but Yoongi just lets out a slow, low exhale through his nose.

"Don’t stop on my account."

Your breath hitches.

You should say something. Apologize. Explain. Anything.

But you’re still too dazed—too wrecked—and Yoongi knows it.

Knows it, and uses it against you.

He steps closer.

Slow. Unbothered. Like this is just another Tuesday.

And then—finally—he speaks.

"You must’ve been real desperate, huh?"

Your face burns.

But Yoongi?

He just tilts his head.

"Really couldn’t wait for me?" His eyes drop—zeroing in on the toy still buried inside you. "Had to go and get a little… substitute?"

You swallow. Hard.

His tone is unreadable—calm, flat—but his eyes are a different story.

They flicker—something dark, something knowing, something that makes your stomach flip.

And then—his lips part.

"Looks like it did a number on you, too."

Your breath catches.

Because it has.

You know what you must look like—skin damp with sweat, thighs trembling, body still buzzing from the aftermath.

Yoongi sees it, too.

Sees it, and—finally—his lips twitch.

The barest hint of amusement.

"Cute."

You die.

Because that tone? That expression? It’s not mocking like Jimin’s.

No.

It’s worse.

It’s pleased.

And then—before you can even process what’s happening—he sets the takeout bag down, shrugs off his jacket, and—

"Alright."

Your breath shudders.

"Alright?" you echo, voice raw.

Yoongi just hums, rolling his shoulders.

"Go on, then." He gestures lazily at the still dripping toy between your legs. "Show me how badly you needed it."

Your lungs collapse.

"Yoongi—"

"Come on, baby." His voice is softer now—low, warm, dangerous. "You’ve already put on a show. Might as well finish it."

Oh, fuck.

Oh, you’re in trouble.

And from the way Yoongi smirks, slow and satisfied, he knows it too.

JUNG HOSEOK

You’re too far gone to notice him at first.

Body trembling, breath ragged, lips parted as the machine mercilessly works you open.

But then—

"What the fuck?!"

Your soul leaves your body.

Your entire existence pauses.

And when your dazed, blurry vision finally manages to focus—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Hoseok.

Standing in the doorway, hand clutching his chest like he’s just witnessed a murder.

Mouth hanging open in sheer, unfiltered disbelief.

Eyes wide, scandalized—as if you’ve just personally offended his ancestors.

Your hand slams down on the machine’s switch, body still twitching as you try to scramble for the sheets—

But Hobi gasps.

"Oh, don’t you dare!"

You freeze.

He points accusingly. "Don’t you dare try to act shy now!"

Your face burns. "Hobi—"

"No. No." His hands are on his hips now—looking you up and down like you’ve insulted his entire bloodline. "You mean to tell me—I leave for a little while, and you replace me with a machine?!"

You open your mouth—no idea what you’re even going to say—

But then his eyes drop.

To the toy.

The toy that’s still inside you.

And suddenly—his jaw drops too.

"WAIT A DAMN MINUTE—"

You whimper. "Hobi, please—"

"IS THAT ME?!"

Oh, fuck.

Your entire existence caves in on itself.

Because—yeah. It is.

The attachment on the machine? It’s modeled after him.

And Hoseok—

Hoseok sees it.

Sees it, realizes it, processes it—

And immediately starts pacing.

"Oh my GOD." He rakes a hand through his hair. "You—this—you actually—" He turns back to you, expression an absolute mess of emotions.

Scandalized. Confused. Weirdly proud?!

"Babe." He gestures wildly at the machine. "You commissioned a replica?!"

Your whole body burns. "I didn’t—"

L*"Who made this?! Is there a company?!"

You groan, covering your face. "Hobi—"

"Oh, my God, this is crazy!" He runs a hand down his face, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is—I mean, I get it, baby, I do, but—"*

And then—suddenly—he stops.

Goes completely still.

And when he looks back at you—

Oh.

Oh, you’re in danger.

Because his expression has shifted.

The shock is still there—sure.

But underneath it?

Amusement.

And something else.

Something dangerous.

"Wait." He takes a slow step forward. "So you mean to tell me—"

You gulp. "Hobi—"

"—That this whole time—while I was gone—" He’s right beside you now—voice dropping, taunting. "—You’ve been sitting here, legs spread, fucking yourself stupid on my dick—"*

Your breath shudders.

Hoseok just grins.

And then—he chuckles.

"Oh, baby." He tilts his head. "You are so in trouble."

PARK JIMIN

You’re so gone you don’t hear the door open.

You don’t hear the soft click of footsteps, the sharp inhale of breath—don’t see the shadow that lingers in the doorway, watching you with dark, unreadable eyes.

You don’t notice him until it’s too late.

Until a smooth, wicked voice cuts through the heavy air.

"Oh, baby… that’s just pathetic."

Your soul leaves your body.

Your head jerks up—eyes blown wide, a desperate whimper slipping from your throat as you lock onto him.

Jimin.

Standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, lip caught between his teeth.

And he is smirking.

Your whole body freezes. Shame, panic, devastation—it all slams into you at once, but before you can even think about scrambling to turn the machine off, Jimin tuts.

"Ah, ah—don't stop now, baby."

Your breath hitches.

His voice is low, silky—a slow drag of heat over your already ruined body.

And then—he steps closer.

"Look at you," he murmurs, eyes devouring the mess you’ve made of yourself. "Drooling, shaking… completely wrecked. And I was only gone for a few weeks?"

You open your mouth—no idea what you’re even going to say—but he just grins, tilting his head.

"You missed me that much?"

Oh, he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying this way too much.

And then—

His eyes drop.

To the toy still buried deep inside you.

The toy modeled after him.

And suddenly, his smirk turns sharp.

"Oh, baby…" He hums, stepping forward until he’s standing right beside you. "Is that what I think it is?"

You whimper, heat flooding your face.

Jimin just chuckles.

"Wow." His fingers trace the base of the toy, mockingly pressing down just enough to make you twitch. "So needy you had to make yourself a little… replacement?"

Your breath stutters—a desperate whimper slipping out before you can stop it.

Jimin grins.

"Mmm. That’s cute."

You don’t trust that tone.

And you shouldn’t.

Because the next thing you know, Jimin twists the toy inside you—just enough to make you gasp, body jolting against the sheets.

"Tell me, baby," he purrs, watching your reaction with open hunger. "Did it feel just like me?"

You swallow, heart pounding. "Jimin—"

"Be honest," he interrupts, fingers still teasingly toying with the base. "Did it fill you up the way I do? Stretch you open? Make you whimper and beg?"

You don’t answer.

You can’t.

Not when his voice is like this—all slow, all taunting, dark with amusement.

And then—he leans in.

His breath ghosts against your ear, his lips barely brushing your skin as he murmurs, "Did it make you scream my name?"

And just like that, you snap.

You jerk under his touch, hips instinctively rolling up, chasing something more. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he pulls back, grinning.

"Mmm. Thought so."

You hate him.

You love him.

And then—suddenly—his smirk sharpens.

"Alright, baby," he hums, eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Since you like using my dick so much—why don’t we see if the real thing is still your favorite?"

And then—he ruins you.

KIM TAEHYUNG

One second, he’s walking into your shared apartment, humming softly, Tannie tucked in his arms. He’s thinking about surprising you, about cuddling up together, about how much he missed you while he was away.

And then—

He hears it.

A low, rhythmic whirr—a mechanical hum that definitely wasn’t there before.

He pauses. Brows furrow.

Tannie lets out a soft woof, like he can sense something is off.

"You hear that, bud?" Taehyung murmurs, adjusting his hold on the little dog as he walks toward the bedroom. "Maybe she’s fixing something?"

Oh, if only.

Because nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the sight that greets him when he pushes open the door.

You.

On the bed.

Absolutely wrecked.

Your legs are spread, your hands are clutching the sheets, your eyes rolling back, drool slipping from your lips as your body jerks with every deep thrust of the machine.

A machine that—

Taehyung chokes.

That’s—that’s him. That’s his dick.

The realization slams into him so hard he almost drops Tannie.

And then—

"HOLY SH—"

The shriek he lets out is ungodly, so loud that Tannie lets out a startled bark, squirming in his arms.

"TAEHYUNG?!" You scream, eyes snapping open, pure horror flashing across your face as you scramble for the remote.

But Taehyung is already spinning on his heel, face aflame, clutching his dog to his chest like a shield.

"I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING—" His voice cracks— "I—OH MY GOD—TANNIE, COVER YOUR EYES—"

Tannie, oblivious, just lets out another woof.

You die.

You fumble to turn the machine off, still reeling from the absolute chaos unfolding before you. Taehyung is pacing in the hallway, one hand clamped over his eyes, the other still gripping his very confused dog.

"I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS—"

"TAEHYUNG, JUST STOP YELLING—"

"YOU’RE—YOU WERE—WITH A ROBOT ME—WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION?!"

"PRETEND YOU NEVER SAW IT—"

"I CAN’T—" He wails, voice cracking all over again. "IT’S BURNED INTO MY BRAIN—"

You groan, dragging a hand down your face.

"Tae, baby, please—"

"I NEED HOLY WATER—TANNIE, WE NEED HOLY WATER—"

At this point, you don’t know if you want to laugh, cry, or die. Probably all three.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is still reeling in the hallway, mumbling something about needing to rewire his entire memory.

And somewhere in all of this, Tannie just lets out another woof, tail wagging—completely unbothered.

JEON JUNGKOOK

You don’t hear him come in.

Too lost—too wrecked—you don’t notice the door creak open, don’t see the shadow that lingers in the doorway, arms crossed, watching.

But you do hear it.

A snort.

"Oh, no way—"

Your soul leaves your body.

Your eyes snap open, mortified, your whole body locking up in horror as your gaze meets his.

Jungkook is standing in the doorway.

And he is grinning.

His massive eyes are wide with amusement, his perfect teeth on display as he watches you, shoulders shaking like he’s trying to hold back his laughter. Spoiler alert: He fails.

"Babe—babe, what is this?" He wheezes, stepping into the room, one hand on his chest like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing in his entire life. "Is that—oh my god—is that me?"

You make a dying noise, scrambling to shut the machine off, but the second you fumble with the remote, Jungkook is there.

He snatches it.

"Ah-ah, don’t be shy now!" He wiggles the remote between his fingers, his shameless bunny grin on full display. "You were so into it just a second ago."

You groan, hiding your face, but he just laughs harder.

"No, seriously, baby—" He plops down onto the edge of the bed, beaming. "I leave for a few weeks, and you go out of your way to get a mechanical version of my dick? Like—how did you even do that? Did they take measurements? Did you show them pictures?"

You whimper. "Jungkook, I hate you."

"No, you don’t," he singsongs, clearly having the time of his life. "You love me. Too much, apparently."

You’re dying. Absolutely perishing. But Jungkook? He’s thriving.

His head tilts, tongue poking out between his teeth as he eyes the toy still inside you. His grin turns wicked.

"Damn, baby," he murmurs, gripping your trembling thigh. "You really went all out, huh? Look at you—absolutely wrecked."

You glare at him through your fingers. "If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least help me first."

Jungkook gasps—all fake offense, hand clutching his chest. "Me? Make fun of you? Baby, I’m honored."

You groan again, but before you can say anything else, Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the base of the toy.

You squeak.

"Wait, wait—!"

But he just grins—and turns the machine back on.

A cry rips from your throat as the vibrations resume, your overstimulated body twitching beneath him.

"Ohhh, baby," Jungkook coos, eyes twinkling as he watches you squirm. "Let’s see if my twin here can keep up, yeah?"

And then—he ruins you all over again.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Elysian: a Latibule Spinoff

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: How are you? April has been crazy. ALSO, OUR SEOKJIN IS GOING ON TOUR! I hope and pray and manifest that I can see him pls universe. Okay, other than that, I hope you enjoy this

Masterlist, Part VIII of __

Kim Seokjin entered his penthouse while whistling to himself.

He walked with lightness in his steps, cheerfulness emitting from him like the sun despite the darkness in his penthouse lit only by the distant glow of city lights streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He placed his briefcase and keys on the counter. He opened the fridge, the interior glow briefly lighting his face, and pulled out a chilled pitcher of water and poured water to his pink glass he imported from France.

His back was turned on the living room as he took a sip. With deliberate calm, Seokjin placed the glass on the counter with a soft thud. He turned.

“May I help you, Jungkook?”

There—casually sprawled across the living room couch like he paid the rent—sat Jeon Jungkook. Legs propped up on the coffee table, laptop perched on his thighs, the soft glow of the screen cast cool shadows across his face. He looked up slowly, blinking as if he were only now realizing he was, in fact, not in his own apartment.

“I’ve been here for hours and this is the welcome I get?” he said, feigning offense.

“I apologize for not being cheerful enough with your presence. After all, you broke into my house!”

“You gave me the code!”

“That doesn’t mean you can just barge in here! I gave that for emergency purposes, you idiot!”

“Hyung!” Jungkook’s voice cracked slightly in protest. “Your WiFi is faster!”

Seokjin stared at him, utterly baffled. “What the—you are literally the top IT expert in this country. Fix your own WiFi!”

Jungkook shrugged, eyes already drifting back to his laptop screen. “Too much effort. Yours works better. Plus, you have snacks.”

Seokjin ran a hand down his face, muttering, “I need to change the code.”

“Okay fine! You twisted my arm! Are you okay? You haven’t been annoying me for days and I’m starting to get worried.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes before plopping down on the sofa beside the maknae. “I’m fine, Kookie,” he said, his voice gentler now. “In fact… I’m happy.”

Jungkook turned his head slowly, watching him. Really watching him. There was a smile on Seokjin’s face—not the dramatic, exaggerated one he often wore for laughs, but something softer, truer. His eyes were calm, no longer clouded with restlessness or that quiet ache Jungkook had grown used to seeing over the years. For the first time, his hyung said that he was happy.

And it was all because of you.

Jungkook didn’t say anything right away. He just sat there, letting the moment settle like dust in golden light. A small smile tugged at his lips, one he didn’t bother hiding.

“Well,” he said quietly, tapping something random on his keyboard to give his hands something to do, “it’s about damn time.”

---

You had just finished cleaning your apartment, the satisfying scent of lemon-scented floor cleaner lingering faintly in the air. Every surface gleamed, the hum of accomplishment still buzzing in your chest as you padded toward the bathroom, towel in hand. A hot shower was well-earned, and you stood under the stream until the last bit of exhaustion melted off your shoulders.

Wrapped in a bathrobe, you began drying your hair with a towel, moving slowly, savoring the peace. That was when it started—the chime. Then another. And another.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Dingdingdingdingding.

Your brows knit. It wasn’t just one or two notifications. It was a flurry. A storm of alerts pouring in, chiming one after another like an alarm going haywire.

A sudden spike of concern shot through your chest. The hospital. Something must’ve happened. Heart thumping, you rushed across the room, nearly slipping on the wooden floor in your haste, and grabbed your phone from the charger.

Screen on. Lock screen glowing.

97 notifications.

All from Instagram.

You blinked, confused. Instagram?

Your thumb hovered for a second before unlocking your phone and opening the app.

And there it was.

Your feed, your likes, your DMs—completely flooded with interactions.

All from a certain @jin.

He had scrolled way back. Your content from the year you started your account to now was all filled with comments and likes from that person. He even commented on the selfie you took when you were in college with your friends.

@jin: I see you have always been beautiful…

“What the…”

There it was—your post from three years ago, a blurry shot of your now dearly departed cat, Muffin, lying upside down on your bed. You hadn’t thought about that picture in ages. But there, clear as day beneath it:

@jin: I think we should get a cat and a dog. What do you think?

Each unhinged comment left your mouth agape. Your jaw dropped.

You kept scrolling. Nothing was spared. Not even your throwback selfie holding a miniature Eiffel Tower souvenir from a college art exhibit, with your innocent little caption: “Someday, the real one!”

@jin: when do you want to go?

The following comments, however, were more unbelievable. Because suddenly, it wasn’t just him anymore.

@jungkook.97: ohmygod hyung is stalking noona!

@thv: So this is she…

@rkive: Hi. If you’re considering filing a restraining order against our hyung, I will be more than happy to represent you in court.

@jin: traitor! @rkive

@jin: get out of here, @thv

@jin: what’s wrong with appreciating my y/n? @jungkook.97? >:(

It wasn’t just the ridiculousness of the situation—it was the fact that they were all in on it. Your comments section had been hijacked by four of the most recognizable men in the country like it was some private group chat gone rogue. Even Taehyung… the Taehyung who literally just won the best actor award last night commented on your IG.

So you decided to do the next best thing. You blocked Kim Seokjin for your peace of mind.

---

Your day was busy. Yet, despite the flurry of activity, something felt off.

And weirdly enough, a certain someone was nowhere to be found. He was always there, wasn’t he? Kim Seokjin was always with you almost akin to a shadow. In fact, he was always with you that his secretary messaged you when she couldn’t reach him. You’d never thought about it much before, but there was always this... unspoken belief in the hospital that you and Seokjin were more than just colleagues. It wasn’t something anyone said outright, but the subtle glances, the half-smirks from nurses, the knowing looks from the doctors—it was all there. And, every time it happened, Seokjin would merely chuckle and give that signature grin of his, never denying anything.

You, on the other hand, always adamantly correct people.

His absence somehow displaced you. But wasn’t this what you wanted? A reprieve from the one-month that he imposed on you? You should’ve felt relief. You should’ve relished in the peace, the silence, the rare moment of freedom from his shadow.

Fine! You could even say that you somehow missed his way of annoying you. But you’d never, ever let him know that. He was annoying enough. You didn’t need to make things worse by missing his ridiculous presence.

So, you buried the discomfort down deep, as you always did. You focused on your work, tried to keep your mind on the task at hand. But each time you’d look at your phone or glance at the door, you couldn’t help but feel that gap where his presence should’ve been. You didn’t know if you could even try harder to not think of him.

But still, it had been two days since you last saw him or received these elaborate annoying yet endearing text messages from him.

Where was Kim Seokjin?

Perhaps, you got your answer one late night just as you were coming home from work, walking down your barely lit street. It was all too sudden. Something shifted in the darkness, but you were too lost on your thoughts that you barely sensed when someone from the dark was approaching you.

“Boo.”

Instinctively, your body froze like it always did when you were in danger. The same sharp twinge of fear that gripped you in the past when they came, when those men would show up, uninvited and unwelcome, to remind you of everything you wished to forget. You screamed and tried so hard to get away from what you perceived to be a danger that you almost landed to your knees had it not been for the strong hands that supported you.

You looked back in fear, in anticipation that he was one of those men who would occasionally pay you a visit. Your heart only calmed down when your widened eyes met Seokjin’s.

He was looking down on you, his arms around you as though he didn’t want to let go just yet. He had this pensive look in him like he was trying to figure something out. You blinked owlishly, too aware of the way he easily supported your weight and the way his hands found home in your waist.

You took a small, shaky step back, your body pulling away from him even as your mind screamed for you to stay calm. He’d noticed. He’d seen you react like that, like something was wrong, and now he was probably wondering what it meant.

That terrifying thought—what if he figured it out? What if he realized that beneath all the surface calm, there was something broken in you, something so much darker than you were willing to admit?

You couldn’t let him see that. Not Seokjin.

You couldn’t risk it.

“What the-”

“I was supposed to make you feel guilty for blocking me,” Seokjin started, his voice dripping with the kind of playful amusement you knew was his way of trying to disarm you. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, eyes twinkling, but there was a hint of something else—something a little darker, maybe. “But now, I’m the one feeling guilty for scaring you.”

You took a good look at him. He looked tired, so opposite to how he usually held himself. His hair was tousled like he'd been running his hands through it for hours, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, as though he'd been up for too long and didn’t care about the details anymore. The most telling sign, though, was the bags under his eyes. Deep, dark rings that only came from several nights without sleep.

Just where had he been to look this weary?

“Are you okay?” you asked before you could even stop yourself.

Jin looked taken aback, his eyes widening just a fraction. It was a brief flicker of surprise, but it was enough for you to see. Rarely was he asked about his well-being—at least, not genuinely. He was groomed to be the strongest, and when he took over, he had to be a rock to his brothers. He couldn’t afford to show cracks, not with everything on his shoulders.

He liked that you worried about him, he realized. He liked that you noticed when he wasn’t the best, when the cracks in his perfect façade were starting to show.

Before he could even respond, you caught yourself, the next question spilling out of you almost like instinct.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

You thought that he looked like he lost a little weight.

When you were being this straightforward, Seokjin often did not know how to act. He surmised that he was always the one taking the lead that when you took the reins, he didn’t know what to do. Perhaps, it was why he ran away from you so hilariously back then. You made him lost control of his words that the only way he could answer you was by shaking his head.

You tsked, looking around the neighborhood. “It’s late and the stores are already close. I guess you will have to eat ramen,” you stated as you shook your head. You walked around him to your apartment on the second floor. You were almost halfway through the stairs when you noted that he wasn’t following.

“Do you not want free dinner?”

It was all the encouragement he needed. Without thinking, Seokjin found himself darting up the stairs after you, his feet taking the steps two at a time, the once-heavy weight in his chest lifting with each movement.

“You know,” he started as he slurped up his ramen. “Noodles are not good for your body.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you watched him devour the ramen with an enthusiasm that was almost… endearing. His large frame seemed to consume the space around him, making your small apartment feel even smaller. The simple kitchen, the modest furnishings, the cluttered shelves—it all felt so tight in his presence. But it was his sheer presence that made everything feel off-kilter. You thought that someone who was wealthy like him would judge your apartment. Instead, he glanced around and seemed... curious. But all he did when he entered your small apartment was to inspect the locks and shook his head at you in disappointment.

“Sure. It’s not like you devoured three-fourths of the noodles I cooked,” you teased, shaking your head as you wiped your hands on a towel. “Seriously, where have you been that you’re this hungry?”

Seokjin, mid-slurp, pouted dramatically, looking almost childlike in his expression. “I was looking for my bro—I mean, I was looking for my cat.”

“You have a cat,” you repeated, disbelief in your face. He didn’t look like a cat person.

He paused, swallowed his water with a careful gulp before answering, his voice a little too casual. “Yes. I have a cat. I have a koala bear, a rabbit, squirrel, tiger, and a chick.”

You stared at him, your eyebrows lifting in incredulity. “What are you, a zoo?”

Seokjin shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he leaned back in his chair casually twirling his chopsticks in his hand before diving them into the bowl of ramen. “I guess they came to me over the years and now won’t just leave me alone.”

“So, your cat, where is it?”

He sighed, the playful look leaving his face for a moment, replaced by a kind of soft nostalgia. “Eh, he found his mate. I left him there because he seemed happy, you know?” He paused, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “He was always scratching me and everything, but when I saw him with her, he looked at peace. I couldn’t just take him away from that.”

“So that’s where you’ve been for the past two days?”

He smiled, back to his annoying self again, as he tilted his head. “I knew it. You missed me.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Oh my God. You’re insane.”

He leaned forward slightly, raising a teasing eyebrow. “You’re a person of psychology. Shouldn’t you use that word wisely?” His tone was almost smug as he picked up his chopsticks again, dunking them back into the ramen. “And just to set things straight, I am not that insane.”

He didn’t leave.

He already finished eating and you had long cleaned the dishes and yet, he was still here.

“I fed you. Why are you still here?”

Seokjin as walking around the apartment, taking in every detail. If he noticed how bare your apartment was, he didn’t mention. The walls were mostly empty except for a few scattered prints. The furniture was minimal, just enough to get by, and the clutter wasn’t so much clutter as it was the absence of things. It was clear that you didn’t put down roots here—you were just using this space as a resting place. To you, he looked like he was simply observing the place, but the longer you watched him, the more you noticed the subtle ways his gaze shifted. It wasn’t just idle curiosity; it was sharp, analytical. His mind was working a mile a minute, absorbing every detail, every small lapse in the security of your home. Seokjin didn’t miss a thing.

He stopped in front of the entrance, his eyes locking onto the flickering light above the door. The bulb was barely hanging on, struggling to stay lit with every passing moment.

“Do you have a spare bulb, sunshine?” he asked, pointing at it with a raised eyebrow, his tone nonchalant but purposeful.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed the light, but you had been meaning to get to it… eventually. You nodded. "Yeah, it’s in the drawer by the sink."

“Good. I’ll change that,” Seokjin said without missing a beat, moving toward the small kitchen area, his stride confident and purposeful. He was already opening the drawer, pulling out the spare bulb like he’d done this a hundred times before.

You watched, a little confused. "You know how to fix lights?" you asked, incredulous. Seokjin looked like the kind of guy who’d have someone else handle this for him.

He shot you a sly look over his shoulder, a grin spreading across his face. “I guess I’m a pretty handyman. Stop objectifying me by your female gaze. I’m more than just a pretty face.”

Before you could even comment on his arrogance, he had the old bulb out and the new one in, adjusting it with the precision of someone who had done this task a thousand times before. By his height alone, he didn’t have to step on a chair like you had been meaning to when you finally decide to change it. The flickering stopped, and the light above the door was back to normal.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked conversationally as he put the old bulb in the trash. He worded it as though he wasn’t fishing for information. He knew he could have asked his men to look you up. It wasn’t that Seokjin didn’t have the means to find out anything he wanted about anyone. He had access to resources that could easily pull up your history, your background, all the details of your life—if he wanted to. But for some reason, he hadn’t used them on you.

Seokjin was someone with almost no conscience. There were very few lines Seokjin hadn’t already crossed in his world. But something felt wrong, like he shouldn’t and couldn’t do that to you. He thought that you were the only one in his life that remained to be untainted by his dark world.

“Since I started working in the hospital. So…around two years now?”

Seokjin didn’t immediately respond. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering over your apartment. His gaze swept over the space with a sharpness that made you feel like he was taking in more than just the physical layout. It was as if he was reading between the lines, seeing things you hadn’t even realized yourself.

Two years, he thought. And yet this place still looks like she moved in yesterday.

Moreover, he made sure to pay his people above the industry benchmark. He consistently only hired the best and the brightest. So why then were you living like this, he wondered. It didn’t add up.

“Sunshine,” he said, blinking at you with genuine concern, “are you poor?”

“Get out.”

---

Seokjin reached his car, the quiet hum of the night settling around him. The city was still alive in the distance, but here in your little street, it was almost too still. He opened the driver’s side door, but paused, his hand resting on the handle as he looked up toward your apartment window.

His face was unreadable—neutral, like a mask he’d perfected over the years. But behind his eyes, his thoughts were anything but calm.

Your reaction earlier, the way your body trembled from fear, the way you flinched and the way it took a moment for you to realize it was him…they were signs of something he just couldn’t quite put his finger onto just yet. Your reaction was too much for what he did. Yours was something that was conditioned. It was something that was familiar. And the worst part was how long it took you to realize it was him as though your mind took you somewhere far from him.

The state of your apartment definitely did not help where his mind was leaning into. The bareness of it pointed to one thing.

It was as though you were a flight risk.

Someone already halfway out the door, even while still standing inside.

With a quiet exhale, he stepped into his car, but his mind wasn’t on the road. Not yet. His jaw tightened slightly, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

Something happened. It made you want to leave…

He didn’t like the idea of you running. Not from a place, or a person, or a past.

Definitely not from him.

[cigarettesuga]

— mind if i stay? (ksj)

pairing: roommate!seokjin × reader

genre: college au, roommates to lovers, smut, fluff, comfort, tiny bit of angst (barely)

word count: ~2.7k

summary: you’re jin’s roommate. you’re also kinda in love with him. when a shitty date leaves you pissed and sad, jin’s there — soft, patient, and way too big to be anything but dangerous. (spoiler: you don’t mind getting a little wrecked.)

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), size kink (he’s huge, you’re tiny), softdom!jin, heavy praise, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb irl), begging, desperation, oral (f receiving), light overstimulation, body worship, creampie, casual cuddles after, jin being a literal menace and an angel at the same time, lowercase style, cursing

lu's note: hey there, just hopped in here to say that im still trying to figure out how to write explicit content and somehow make it work with my personal style of writing (which is kinda moody), i don't think i've achieved that just yet, bare with me. hopefully you still enjoy it!

m.list | latest

you slam the front door harder than necessary. your keys clatter against the side table. you’re two seconds away from screaming into a pillow like a cartoon character.

"bad date?" jin calls from the living room, lazy and amused.

you don't answer. mostly because you’re too busy kicking off your shoes and stomping toward the kitchen like the floor insulted you personally.

"i’ll take that as a yes," he grins, voice floating behind you.

you’re halfway through pouring yourself a glass of water when you realize:

he’s not sitting on the couch like usual. he’s leaning against the doorframe. watching you.

he’s wearing a baggy white tee and gray sweatpants. hair messy. glasses slipping down his nose.

and he looks —

fuck.

he looks good. like he rolled out of bed straight into your favorite daydream. you hate that your heart stutters. you hate that your stomach flips. you hate that no shitty tinder boy has ever made you feel half as alive as jin does just standing there, breathing the same air as you.

"what happened?" he asks, voice softer now.

not teasing. real.

you sigh, shoulders sagging.

"he was an asshole."

"want me to beat him up?" he offers immediately, like it’s a normal tuesday night activity.

you laugh in spite of yourself, the sound brittle and sharp.

"nah. not worth the energy."

jin tilts his head. studies you like he’s memorizing every line of your face.

then:

"you okay?"

you swallow. nod.

"liar," he says gently.

you slam the water down and it splashes over your hand. jin’s there in half a second, grabbing a paper towel, brushing his fingers against yours.

"don’t waste your tears on some loser," he says. his thumb grazes your knuckles. "you’re way too good for that."

your throat tightens. you hate how easily he cracks you open.

"stop being nice to me," you whisper.

"why?"

because i’ll fall harder.

because i already have.

because i can’t take it anymore.

you don’t say any of that.

you just stare at him — at his warm brown eyes, his stupidly perfect lips, the soft pink flush blooming under his skin — and something inside you snaps.

you surge forward.

kiss him.

messy, desperate, no plan, no permission.

he catches you like he was waiting for it.

like he’s been holding his breath this whole time.

his hands land heavy on your hips, anchoring you there. he kisses you back slow, deep, his mouth opening against yours like he’s letting you in — no hesitation, no fear.

his body is huge compared to yours, towering over you, swallowing you up, and he barely even touches you but you feel it everywhere.

you break away, gasping.

"fuck," you pant. "sorry, i’m sorry—"

"hey," jin murmurs, tipping your chin up.

"don’t apologize."

his thumb brushes your lower lip, eyes dark and patient and hungry.

he licks his own lips like he’s thinking about tasting you again.

"you sure about this?" he asks.

"more sure than anything," you breathe.

his grin is slow and devastating.

"good," he says. "because i’ve been going crazy living with you."

before you can even process that, he’s picking you up — literally lifting you like it’s nothing — and carrying you to the couch.

you yelp.

he laughs, setting you down so gently you could cry.

"relax," he says, tugging off your jacket, your shirt, your everything.

"let me take care of you."

your body is buzzing, every nerve ending on fire. you’re suddenly, painfully aware of how big he is. not just tall — built. broad chest, thick arms, solid thighs. he could snap you in half without trying.

the thought makes you ache.

when he strips his shirt off, you swear you lose brain function. smooth skin, strong lines, a tiny mole dotting his collarbone. you want to bite him. you want to worship him.

but jin just smiles — all knowing and sweet — and sinks to his knees in front of you like you’re the goddamn masterpiece.

"jin…" you whisper, thighs trembling.

he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. then higher. and higher.

"you’re so small," he says, voice wrecked. "so fucking pretty."

you whimper.

he’s so careful with you. hands firm but gentle, lips soft and sure as he kisses up your thighs. when he finally mouths over your panties — slow and deliberate — you gasp so hard you almost fall back against the couch.

"easy, baby," jin chuckles.

"i got you."

he slides the fabric down your legs and tosses it aside.

then he just…stares.

"fuck," he mutters. "look at you."

you squirm under his gaze, cheeks burning.

he leans in and licks a stripe up your folds — slow, filthy, perfect.

you arch off the couch immediately, a broken moan tearing from your chest.

"taste so good," he growls.

he eats you out like he’s starving.

no rush. no hesitation.

just steady, thorough, focused.

you’re babbling, gasping, grabbing at his hair — and he just holds your thighs open, hums against you, keeps going until you’re shaking.

"jin — i’m gonna —"

he pulls back just enough to say:

"good. wanna feel you fall apart, pretty girl."

you shatter.

hard.

with a cry so loud you’re vaguely aware the neighbors might call someone. you’re still trying to catch your breath when he kisses back up your body, mouthing at your chest, your neck, your jaw.

"wanna fuck you so bad," he pants against your skin.

"gonna stretch you out so good, baby. you can take it, right?"

you nod frantically, tears pricking your lashes.

"words," he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"yes, jin, yes, i want you," you sob. "please."

he groans — a deep, low sound that vibrates against your ribs. he shoves his sweatpants down and — holy shit.

he’s big.

like, unreal.

you whimper without meaning to. he chuckles — sweet and cocky.

"don’t worry," he says, lining himself up.

"i’ll go slow."

and he does.

he pushes in inch by inch, stopping every few seconds to kiss you, to whisper how good you’re doing, how pretty you are, how perfect you feel.

you’re stretched so wide, full to the point of tears, but it’s good.

it’s so good.

it’s jin.

it’s everything you didn’t know you needed.

when he’s fully seated inside you, he drops his forehead to yours, breathing hard.

"fuck, baby," he rasps.

"you feel like heaven."

he starts to move — slow, deep thrusts that make you whimper into his mouth.

he holds your hips, your waist, your face —

keeps you right there, tethered to him.

you cling to him, nails scratching his back. you chant his name like a prayer. he kisses every new tear that spills down your cheeks.

"too much?" he asks, pulling back to look at you.

"no," you gasp. "more. need more."

he smiles — proud and wrecked — and starts fucking you harder.

not rough — never rough — just deep. perfect. like he wants you to feel him for days.

you come again embarrassingly fast.

and again after that.

until you’re trembling, gasping, mindless.

he presses his forehead to yours again, chest heaving.

"gonna cum inside you," he pants.

"want you to feel me."

you nod, too gone to care about anything else.

with a broken groan, he spills inside you, hips grinding down, pushing it deep.

you shudder, overwhelmed.

he doesn’t move right away. just stays there, breathing you in. when he finally pulls out, you whimper at the emptiness. he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your lips — everywhere.

"good girl," he whispers.

"you did so good for me."

you feel like you could cry all over again. he scoops you up against his chest, wraps a blanket around you both. presses lazy kisses to your temple.

"jin?" you mumble.

"yeah, baby?"

"mind if i stay here tonight?"

he laughs — low and happy — and pulls you closer.

"you’re never sleeping anywhere else again."

⠀

quietly, always © cigarettesuga

⠀

[tranquilreign]

intimate tattoos | scenario | 18+

- © tranquilreign - all rights reserved | DO NOT STEAL, TAKE, or COPY any of MY WORK without MY PERMISSION.

pairing: namjoon/reader, seokjin/reader, yoongi/reader, hoseok/reader, jimin/reader, taehyung/reader, jungkook/reader genre: fluff, established relationship au! warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, body worship, nudity, public sexual themes, the boys are horny af for you :) word count: 2.7k synopsis: the boys reaction to you having a tattoo in an intimate area.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

namjoon

You opened the door to your apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. The chances of Namjoon being asleep were high, and you didn't want to risk waking him up. Especially after you had just gotten a tattoo.

To your surprise, when you turned the corner of the hallway, you found Namjoon sitting in the living room, glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose, reading a book.

"Baby," you squeaked. "I didn't think you'd be awake."

You glanced at the clock. 3:00 am. You had told Namjoon you'd be home by 1:00 am at the latest, instead, you were two hours late.

You were on your way home when your friend, in a drunken state, suggested getting a tattoo. To prevent her from making a potentially regrettable decision, you, being the more sober one, decided to get the tattoo yourself. However, your friend made it a condition that she would choose the location for the tattoo.

"You're home late," he responded blankly. He didn't bother to look up from his book, flipping the page over instead and continuing from the next page.

“Yeah, I know, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t text,” you apologised, taking off your shoes and carefully sitting down on the armchair next to him. “I just lost track of time.”

Namjoon only hummed, eyeing you from the side. He watched as you shifted uncomfortably in the seat. Flinching slightly if you moved too much. He pulled off his glasses and closed his book.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"W-what? No. No, I'm fine," you replied quickly, squirming in your seat.

"Y/n," Namjoon warned in a low tone.

"Fine," you whined. "I got a tattoo."

"You what?" Namjoon asked, as if he hadn't heard you.

"Yeah..." you trailed off.

"Well, let me see then."

"Huh?!" you asked. Namjoon laughed.

"I'm bound to see it at some point, so you may as well show me now."

Namjoon had a point. But where your friend had decided to have you tattooed was rather... questionable. You looked at Namjoon uneasily for a moment. His smile faltered.

"Oh fuck is it bad?"

"Well, the tattoo itself isn't bad," you muttered. "But the placement..."

You stood up, pulling your skirt and your underwear down. Namjoon's eyes widened. Right in the middle of your pubic bone sat a rose tattoo, with the stem leading towards your womanhood. You stared at Namjoon, waiting for him to say something.

"It's, uh... It's something."

"You're mad, aren't you?" you asked.

"No, baby," Namjoon replied immediately. "It's a beautiful tattoo. But, as you said, the placement is indeed questionable."

You both stared at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You sat back down, making a grab for your skirt when Namjoon stopped you.

"Actually, I find it quite sexy," Namjoon grinned, his eyes never leaving your tattoo. You giggled.

"Too bad for you, Joonie, we can't have sex until it heals."

Namjoon pouted, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

seokjin

You and Seokjin had been dating for a few months. He had explained that with his hours, there may be times you couldn't see one another, which you were more than happy with.

Having that time away from one another meant you could come up with more surprises for him, and tonight was one of those occasions. You had used Seokjin's key to get into his apartment, deciding you wanted to surprise him with dinner when he got home.

You had prepared a simple noodle dish, unsure whether or not he would want to eat when he returned. To your surprise he had returned just as you were washing the dishes. He put his hands over your eyes and hummed softly in your ear.

"Hello to you, too," you laughed, pulling his hands away from your eyes.

"Smells good," Seokjin grinned as he moved his hands to your shoulders. "Can I have dessert early?"

You giggled as he gently pulled your t-shirt over your shoulder, planting small kisses against your skin as he did so. You let your head fall back onto his shoulders, falling into his pleasure.

His antics suddenly stopped, however, making you whine. You turned your head to look at him, surprised to see he was frowning.

"Is something wrong?" you asked.

"You have a tattoo."

Your eyes followed where his gaze sat, now looking at the tattoo embedded into your skin. It spiralled around your collarbone delicately, a beautiful display of ink.

"Do you not like it?" you asked worriedly, moving away from him.

You pulled your t-shirt back up to cover yourself, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you were unsure of what to do. It was only when Seokjin spun you around, you looked at him.

"I love it, baby. I just wasn't expecting it," he admitted. "I actually find it rather hot."

Your smile appeared once again as Seokjin lifted you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He had begun to carry you to the bedroom when you stopped him.

"What about your dinner?" you pouted.

Seokjin looked between you and the table, contemplating what to do. He sighed in defeat, putting you back down.

"Fine. But as soon as I'm finished, I'm taking you straight back to the bedroom."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

yoongi

Yoongi had suggested going on a date. With him being so busy with work, he wanted to treat you to something nice to make up for his absence.

You both walked, hand in hand down the busy streets of Seoul. You had chosen to wear a black skirt that fell down to your mid thigh, and a simple white top.

It was supposed to be a cute, innocent date. But that had all changed when you had knelt down to tie your shoelaces. Yoongi stood in front of you, holding his jacket to make sure no one would be trying to peek underneath.

What he hadn't expected to see was the fact that you had a rather large tattoo placed on the inside of your thigh. Something that surprised him very much. And clearly turned him on.

At the first given opportunity, he pulled you into a quiet alleyway and pinned you against the wall, catching you off guard.

"Yoongi, what are-"

"How long did you plan on hiding it from me?" he asked, his voice laced with seduction.

You were confused. What had you done so suddenly to get him so worked up? When you hadn't responded, he grunted, dropping to his knees. You watched, stunned, when he pulled your left leg over his shoulder.

His slender fingers traced up your inner thigh until his hand completely covered your tattoo.

"This," he breathed, pushing your skirt up with his other hand to reveal your ink.

You giggled, relaxing.

"You like it, baby?" you asked cheekily.

Yoongi nodded as he peppered kisses from your knee up to your tattoo. He had attempted to go further, but you unhooked your leg from his shoulder and gently pushed him back. With him leaning back, and your shoe now on his chest, he could clearly see up your skirt, groaning when he saw you with no underwear on.

"How about we go home? Then I can show you the tattoo fully, and a whole lot more," you spoke flirtatiously.

Yoongi moved quickly, wasting no time to grab you by the hand and quite literally dragging you back to the house.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

hoseok

It was hot in the dance studio. Both of you were sweating from the intense choreography you were doing. You had both ended the filming on the floor, chests heaving from exhaustion.

"Fuck," you said in between breaths.

"You can say that again."

"Fuck."

You both looked at each other, then laughed. You were the first to move from the floor and stand up. Hoseok lifted his head, watching you as you moved.

You pulled yourself off to the side, untying the flannel from around your waist and discarding it. Hoseok's eyes widened when he noticed a tattoo on your lower back while you tugged your cargo's up.

Bending down, you grabbed two water bottles. You turned around to walk over to him, but stopped halfway. Eyeing him suspiciously, you moved your hands to your hips. His expression stayed the same, his eyes on your groin.

"Can you stop staring there?" you scolded, rolling a water bottle at him.

It rolled past him, making you huff. You mumbled under your breath, moving to go get it for him. A squeal left your lips when Hoseok suddenly pinned you to the ground on your stomach.

"Hoseok what the fuck?!" you asked angrily.

He didn't respond, instead pulling the hem of your cargo trousers down, making you panic. You squirmed until he put his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

"Don't move." His tone was low.

You laid there in defeat, allowing him to bring your trousers further down until, they stopped right above your butt. His fingers traced the ink slowly, outlining it. Everything suddenly clicked for you. Hoseok didn't know you had a tattoo.

"You know," you managed to get out. "You could have just asked to see my tattoo."

Hoseok finally looked up at your face, a grin evident. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused. He leaned down, lips gracing your ear. A shiver ran down your spine as he spoke.

"Now, where's the fun in that? I quite like you in this position."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

jimin

Jimin had had a hard day. All he could think about was you. Wanting you underneath him as he ravished your body. It was like this most days. You still hadn't had sex, despite being together for a while, but he didn't want to ruin anything between the two of you. He didn't know if you were ready, and he didn't want to scare you away.

It was only confirmed that you were ready when he had come home. His eyes were wide when his gaze fell upon you. You sat in a black lace body suit on the dining room table, black heeled boots stopping at your mid-thigh. It was a sight to behold.

"I was wondering when you'd make a move, Chim," you cooed, beckoning him over with a motion of your finger. "I've grown impatient."

Jimin grinned, his hands moving from your calves up your thighs. He was ready to lift you when you moved your leg and placed your foot against his chest, pushing him away. Jimin pouted.

"We're not going to the bedroom. Right here, right now."

Jimin didn't need to be told twice; he moved your leg out of the way and crashed his lips onto yours. Neither of you wasted a moment taking off Jimin's clothes.

You were pushed further back onto the table, giving Jimin plenty of space to move on top of you. He laced his fingers around the spaghetti strap of your body suit, groaning slightly at your scent.

"How did you know black was my favourite?" he whispered into your neck.

"Because you wear it all the time," you joked.

You gasped when Jimin moved his hand down to your breast, taking one and massaging it gently, kissing your neck. While he was preoccupied, you took it upon yourself to pull the straps of your bodysuit down.

Jimin moved the fabric down, exposing your breasts to him. You let your head fall back, waiting for him to pleasure you. It didn't come. Confused, you looked back at him. He was staring at your breasts, brows furrowed. You began to grow insecure, moving to cover yourself.

"No baby," he whispered. "You're beautiful. I just didn't know you had a tattoo."

A sigh of relief escaped you. Jimin finally moved, kissing up from your stomach to your tattoo, leaving you in anticipation as he made his way closer to your breasts.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

taehyung

Taehyung had been fighting the urge to take you then and there when he had seen you walk out in a bikini. You and the group were away for a weekend in the sun.

Both he and Jimin were equally shocked when you caught up with them. Taehyung's eyes trailed over your body, licking his lips as he did so. What he didn't expect, however, was that you had a tattoo that travelled from your upper thigh, up to your groin then around to your butt.

"Since when have you had a tattoo?" Taehyung suddenly blurted out.

"Oh. Uh," you paused, thinking for a moment. "I've had it for a while. Did I not tell you?"

"No."

"Well, sorry about that, baby," you pouted, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to swim for a bit, okay?"

Taehyung watched you, eyes burning with desire. He glanced to his side, noticing Jimin staring at you, mouth hanging open.

"Hey!" Taehyung scolded, playfully grabbing Jimin in a choke hold.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Jimin cried out, laughing as they both fell to the ground.

Their play fighting was noticed by the rest of the group, all now by the two boys' sides.

"What are you fighting about now?" Seokjin asked, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Taehyung's girlfirend is hot as fuck."

"Don't we already know this?" Jungkook asked teasingly, waiting for Taehyung's reaction.

"Do you want to take his place?" Taehyung threatened jokingly, shooting the youngest a glare.

"No, I mean," Jimin struggled under Taehyung." She's got a massive tattoo on her leg."

With that, they all looked out to the water, Jungkook and Yoongi especially.

"Wait, really?" Hoseok asked. Slowly, they all began to move towards you, their curiosity getting the better of them.

"No," Taehyung warned.

When Jungkook looked back at his friend, he grinned mischievously before sprinting off with the others. Taehyung scrambled to his feet, only to be caught and held down by Jimin, who was laughing.

"Y/n!"

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

jungkook

Jungkook loved drawing you. He found you so beautiful that he couldn't resist. But as of right now, he had taken a particular interest in human anatomy. Specifically, your anatomy.

"Please," Jungkook begged while you were sitting, drinking your morning tea.

"I don't see why you can't just use a model on Google," you protested, shooing him away with your hand.

"Because it's not you! That's why."

You let your head hang, taking a moment to think. At the end of the day, it wasn't going to be an issue. So why were you declining? You sighed, finally looking up into his doe-like eyes.

"Fine."

"Yes!" Jungkook cheered, kissing you on the temple. "When you've finished your tea, come down to the art room."

It wasn't long before you were downstairs, sitting in the middle of the room while he examined you. He wanted you to be in the perfect position.

"No, something isn't right," Jungkook mumbled, tapping his pencil against his chin.

He walked up to you, gently moving your body into different positions, making sure you weren't too uncomfortable. It was only when he started to unbutton your shirt, you slapped his hand away.

"What are you doing?"

"I need you naked," he responded casually.

When Jungkook was in his artistic or professional mode, nothing seemed to faze him. You arched a brow, but still complied, unbuttoning the shirt yourself.

"If you wanted to see me naked, baby, all you needed to do was ask," you teased.

Your comment seemed to have brought him back to his senses, as he blushed. It faded quickly, however, becoming serious again. Jungkook had begun to move you around again, getting you into the right position, when he stopped.

You watched as he stepped back, eyes squinting. He moved back to you, but instead of moving you, he touched between your breasts. You flushed at his actions, not expecting him to act so intimately.

"You never told me you had a tattoo," he mumbled. "It's beautiful."

"It won't ruin your drawing, will it?" you asked.

"No, baby. If anything, it'll make it that much more captivating," he breathed, moving to place a gentle kiss against your skin.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

hello there! thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed it! Posts may by a little slow, I've been dealing with rather sore heads at the moment, so I apologise in advance!

if you've made it this far please take a look at my other works. or you're interested in making a request please look at the links below!

masterlist | requests | request rules | prompt list

tranquilreign~

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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[minyoongisnewthing]

Han river lullaby chapter four | myg

Chapter one , chapter two , chapter three chapter five chapter six

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, exs to lovers, eventual smut, idol!au, co parents, second chance romance.

Chapter warnings: angst, mentions of past pregnancy, past corporate manipulation.

Word count: 8k approximately.

Authors notes: So this chapter kind of got away from me and I’m quite nervous about this one, But we are here everyone y/n and our boy finally get to have a grown up talk!.This time without relationship therapist! Namjoon. As always please feel free to leave any feedback or comments it is always welcome.

The next morning, getting Han ready to see Yoongi was a feat in itself. The moment he realized where he was going, he was practically bouncing off the walls, too excited to sit still hurrying you through his morning routine.

You chuckled as you knocked on Yoongi’s door, Han practically vibrating at your side, tiny fists clenched in anticipation. His eyes, so much like his father’s, sparkled with excitement as he shifted from foot to foot, barely able to contain himself.

But when the door swung open, it wasn’t Yoongi standing there.

It was Kim Seokjin, grinning from ear to ear. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and his perfectly styled hair caught the soft morning light spilling into the hallway. He exuded warmth, his honeyed brown eyes twinkling with mischief as he took in Han.

“Ahhh! There he is!” Jin bent down to Han’s eye level, hands on his knees as he beamed. “I’ve been waiting to meet you, little nephew. I’m your Uncle Jin.”

Han blinked up at him, then glanced at you in confusion. You nodded reassuringly, and after a moment, he shyly mumbled, “Hi.”

From somewhere inside the apartment, the familiar voice of Park Jimin rang out dramatically.

“IS THAT MY NEPHEW FINALLY?!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. And thank god Yoongi had this support system in his life.

Then Yoongi finally appeared, stepping into view from behind Jin, and for a moment, it was like the world narrowed to just the two of them—father and son.

Yoongi looked a little disheveled, like he’d just woken up not long ago. His dark hair was tousled, falling into his eyes, and his black t-shirt clung to his lean frame. His sleepy, cat-like gaze softened the moment it landed on Han, and his lips parted slightly, as if he still couldn’t believe the little boy in front of him was real.

Han’s face lit up instantly. “Appa!”

He bolted forward, arms outstretched, and Yoongi barely had time to brace himself before Han crashed into his legs, clutching him tightly.

Yoongi let out a breathless laugh, ruffling Han’s dark curls. “Hey, buddy.” His voice was thick with something unspoken—wonder, maybe. Or gratitude.

You leaned against the doorway, extending the small backpack you’d packed. Jin, who had straightened up, took it with an easy nod.

“Clothes and snacks are in here,” you told him.

Jin slung the bag over his shoulder with exaggerated grace. “Y/N.” His tone was knowing, polite.

You gave him a wry smile, already predicting whatever remark he had lined up. “Whatever you’re thinking, Mr. Worldwide Handsome, believe me—I’ve already thought worse about myself.”

Jin blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned. “Fair enough.”

You crouched down beside Han, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Han, baby, listen. You’re gonna stay here with Appa and your uncles while Eomma does some shopping, okay?”

Han barely acknowledged you a quick passing of a promise he’d be good, already turning to Namjoon, his tiny voice bubbling with excitement as he launched into an explanation about his favorite book.

Yoongi’s gaze met yours, and for a second, there was something in his expression—an unguarded softness, a quiet awe as he watched Han.

Like he was still trying to convince himself this wasn’t a dream.

“Take your time,” he said, voice low, steady. “We’ve got all day.”

You hesitated just for a second, your fingers curling slightly at your side.

Then you nodded. “Alright. I’ll be back later.”

And as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the image of Yoongi standing there, eyes lingering on Han like he was something precious, still something he was afraid to blink and lose.

As you stepped away from the doorway, you heard Jimin’s exaggerated gasp.

“Wait, holy shit he’s such a mini you hyung!”

Namjoon sighed. “Jimin, we just told you to watch your language.”

Yoongi groaned. “Oh my god.”

You laughed to yourself as you walked to your car, heart lighter than it had been in years.

When you arrived back at Yoongi’s apartment a few hours later, the eerie silence made you pause.

With a toddler and four grown men inside, you had expected at least some noise—laughter, conversation, maybe even the playful bickering that always seemed to follow them wherever they went. Instead, there was nothing.

Suspiciously quiet.

You knocked softly, and just like before, Seokjin was the one to answer. He leaned against the doorframe, lips curling into a small, knowing smirk before stepping aside to let you in.

What you saw made your heart skip a beat.

Yoongi was fast asleep on the couch, arms wrapped securely around a peacefully snoozing Han. One of his hands rested on Han’s tiny back, fingers curled protectively over the fabric of his shirt, holding him close. The sight of them—father and son, breathing in sync, completely at ease—sent a sharp pang through your chest.

Nearby, Namjoon was sprawled out in an armchair, a book resting open on his chest as he dozed. Jimin was curled up on the other end of the couch, tucked under a blanket, his soft breaths barely audible in the quiet room.

It was a picture of comfort. Of warmth.

Of something that could have been. That should have been.

Jin nudged you gently, tilting his head toward the kitchen. You hesitated for a moment, unwilling to look away from Yoongi and Han, but eventually followed him, trying to shake off the lump forming in your throat.

“How was he today?” you asked quietly as Jin handed you a glass of water.

Jin leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Great Han and Jimin were chaos incarnate hence the napping.” His voice was lighter than his expression. “Seeing Yoongi with Han is adorable.” He hesitated, jaw tightening slightly. “But—”

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “Jin, just say it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His expression hardened, and his voice dropped to a firm whisper. “How could you even for a moment think it was the best thing to keep Han from Yoongi?”

The weight of his words settled over you, pressing into your ribs like an iron grip. You had been expecting this conversation. You knew Seokjin would pull his overprotective hyung card eventually, standing up for Yoongi the way he always did.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You set your glass down, swallowing past the tightness in your throat before looking him in the eye. “Are you seriously telling me—with your full chest, Seokjin—that it would have been easy for you to sit there and watch Yoongi give up everything he’s worked for? His career, his passion, his dream—just because of me?”

Jin opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance to argue.

“Because it wasn’t easy, Jin.” Your voice wavered, but you refused to let it break. “It was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails pressing into your palms as the memories crashed over you in waves.

“I went through the pregnancy alone. I gave birth alone.” You took a shaky breath, the words finally spilling out—words you had swallowed down for years. “Do you have any idea how many nights I wanted to pick up the phone? How many times I wanted to beg him to get on a flight to y/h/t? To come see me, to see his son?”

Jin’s sharp gaze softened slightly, but you were too far gone to stop now.

“When I was overwhelmed? When Han was burning up with a fever, and I had no one? Do you know how badly I wanted to break down and tell him everything?” Your voice cracked, and you shook your head, eyes stinging. “But I didn’t, because I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting him. And maybe I fucked up. Maybe I was wrong. But I wasn’t being selfish, Jin. I did what I thought was best for him.”

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You quickly wiped it away, exhaling shakily.

“And do you want to know something else?” Your voice was barely above a whisper now, raw and exposed. “I did it even though it killed me.” You swallowed hard, then finally let the words slip free—the words you had buried for far too long.

“Because I still love him, Jin. With everything I have.”

Jin inhaled sharply, his gaze searching yours. For a moment, he said nothing, but the weight of your confession hung thick in the air between you.

Then, without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms.

And you broke.

A quiet gasp escaped as you let yourself collapse into his embrace, the weight of the years you had carried alone finally pressing down on you. Jin held you tightly, his chin resting against the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

After a while, he let out a quiet sigh. “You know what?” he murmured. “Yoongi’s confused as hell right now.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your face damp with tears.

Jin gave you a small, knowing smile. “But that man could never let you go.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jin’s smile widened, just a little. “Truthfully?” He tilted his head. “He holds a candle for you hard.”

Your heart clenched. Because deep down, you already knew. You knew because you held the same candle for him. 

You sighed, wiping at your eyes as you tried to gather your emotions. “What do I do, Jin?”

Jin studied you for a moment before answering. “Give him time. Give him space to get used to being a father. But most of all—just be there for each other as Hans parents.”

You nodded. He was right. You had to. You owed it to Han. And to Yoongi.

You waited for everyone to wake before gathering Han and heading home. He was practically buzzing with excitement, babbling endlessly about all the fun he’d had with his dad and uncles. Listening to him, your heart felt lighter. Despite everything, this was working.

Over the next few months, things slowly fell into place.

Yoongi became better at asking for time with Han, and you always granted it, never hesitating. At first, he was cautious—careful, like he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Han was his son. But he was trying, and that was all you could ask for.

Each visit chipped away at the distance between them. Yoongi was learning how to read Han’s moods, how to handle his boundless energy and the way he asked a million questions a minute. And Han—Han adored him, latching onto him like he’d been waiting for him all along.

Little by little, co-parenting became natural.

One evening, Yoongi showed up at your apartment to drop Han off before he had to go japan for a few days, holding a tiny pair of mud wrecked sneakers in his hands. A sheepish looking and shoeless Han rushing inside, as quickly as he could with a “bye Appa”

“I took Han to the park earlier,” he said, stepping inside. “And I swear I only looked away for a second—”

“Uh-huh,” you said, already skeptical.

“—but when I turned back, he was knee-deep in a mud puddle.”

You groaned. “Again?”

“Yes, again.” Yoongi shook his head, exasperated. “I swear he seeks them out. Anyway, these are done for. I figured I’d replace them.” He lifted the sneakers as proof, and lifting a previously unseen shopping bag.

You took them with a sigh, barely suppressing a smile. “At this rate, I should just start sending him out in rain boots every day.”

Yoongi smirked. “Might not be a bad idea.”

Another time, Yoongi called you out of the blue while you were on shift, panic clear in his voice.

“What do I do?” he asked, words rushed. “He has a fever, I mean It’s not that high, but he’s clingy as fuck, and he won’t eat, i even tried chicken soup!”

“Breathe, Yoongi,” you reassured him gently. “If It's just a low-grade fever. Keep him hydrated, give him something light to eat, try that soup again, and let him rest. If it doesn’t go down by morning, call me, and I’ll come over.”

There was a pause. Then, softer: “Okay. Thanks.”

But later that night, when Yoongi sent a picture of Han snuggled up against his chest, tiny fingers curled around his shirt, it hit you—he’s a natural. He’d been terrified, yes, but Han had known exactly where to go for comfort.

And as more weeks passed, those moments became routine.

Yoongi would send you pictures of Han passed out on his studio couch, headphones too big for his tiny head. You’d text him videos of Han running through the apartment, proudly announcing. “Appa said I could have ice cream for dinner one day!” to which Yoongi responded, ‘please tell that little snitch I said no such thing’.

And then, there were the mornings when Yoongi picked Han up, standing in your doorway looking effortlessly good in an oversized hoodie, coffee in one hand, a small pastry in a bag he’d always hand to you, in the other.

“You packed extra clothes, right?” he asked one day, lifting an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes. “One time yoon, I forgot extra shorts for him one time!.”

He smirked, but his voice was soft when he said, “See you later.”

It wasn’t perfect. There were still moments of tension, still things left unsaid. But you and Yoongi were figuring it out.

Together.

One afternoon, something unexpected threw you off.

You paced the living room, phone pressed to your ear as it rang. The moment Yoongi answered, his voice was immediately alert.

“Hey Y/N What’s up? Is Han okay?”

Your heart softened at his immediate concern. Always his first thought.

“Yeah, Yoon, Han’s fine. It’s just—” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I need to pick up a shift at the hospital, and I don’t know what to do. His usual sitter is sick, and the daycare’s already full.”

There was no hesitation. “I got him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he reassured you. “Jungkook, Jin, and Namjoon are here right now actually, I’m sure he’ll have fun.”

Relief flooded you. “Thank you, Yoongi. I’ll be by as soon as I’m off.”

You barely had time to drop Han off before rushing out the door. As you knelt to his level, you smoothed his hair back and cupped his little face. “Love you, bubba. Be good for Appa, okay?”

Han grinned, eyes bright. “Love you, Eomma!” Then he turned to Yoongi, his tiny hand tugging on his father’s sleeve. “Can we have ice cream for dinner? If uncle kookie says so!!!”

Yoongi scoffed, lifting Han effortlessly onto his hip. “Not a chance, buddy.”

You heard Jungkook's voice ring out, “but hyung ice cream is always a good option!”

You chuckled as you ran out the door, the sound of Han’s playful protests and agreeing following you down the hallway.

The shift at the hospital was relentless—a whirlwind of patients, and back-to-back emergencies. Hours passed in a blur, exhaustion weighing on you. But halfway through, sitting in the break room your phone buzzed with a message.

Yoongi: Seems like Jin and jk are determined to corrupt our boy.

Your heart skipped a beat. Our boy.

The subtle acknowledgment—one he likely didn’t even realize he’d made—sent warmth through your chest. Before you could fully process it, another message arrived.

A video.

You tapped the screen, and the sight that greeted you made you laugh out loud, drawing a few curious glances from your coworkers.

Jin and Jungkook were in Yoongi’s living room, dramatically dancing to My Humps by The Black Eyed Peas, their moves exaggerated and ridiculous. In the middle of it all, Han stood wearing Jin’s oversized sunglasses, giggling excitedly as he tried to copy their steps.

Namjoon sat off to the side, shaking his head in mock disappointment, but you could see the amused smile tugging at his lips. And behind the camera, Yoongi’s quiet chuckle was unmistakable.

Your laughter faded into something softer. Something fond.

Han looked so at ease—so happy. And so did Yoongi.

you felt hope, hope for the future and hope for the growing ease between you both.

By the time you pulled up to Yoongi’s apartment after midnight, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. Emergency patients had kept flooding in, stretching your shift far past what you’d expected. You’d barely had time to grab dinner, let alone breathe.

Yawning, you sent Yoongi a quick message to let him know you were outside.

The door cracked open a moment later, and Yoongi appeared, clad in pajama pants and a loose t-shirt. His face was puffy with sleep, hair slightly tousled—his usual sharp gaze softened by exhaustion.

God, he looked cozy.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” you murmured.

“Don’t be sorry,” he mumbled, stepping aside to let you in. “He’s finally asleep in his room.” He chuckled, rubbing at his neck.

Your heart fluttered at that. His room.

As you followed him inside, you asked, “Was he okay today?”

Yoongi led you to the couch, motioning for you to sit down. He took the spot beside you, stretching his arms over the backrest.

“Yeah, he had a great time,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Loved Jin teaching him to dance. Him and kook are now conspiring against me. I'm sure, you should have seen them grinning and giggling today, And at some point, he somehow convinced Namjoon to build a pillow fort.”

You groaned. “You mean that didn’t end in disaster?”

“Oh, it absolutely did,” Yoongi deadpanned. “Namjoon got too confident, and the whole thing collapsed. Han and his chaos twin laughed for a solid five minutes.”

You smiled, sinking deeper into the cushions. “I saw the video. Thank you for that, by the way. I needed it today.” You yawned mid-sentence, barely covering it with your hand.

Yoongi’s expression softened. “You’re welcome.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the weight of the long day pressing down on your shoulders.

Then, after a moment, Yoongi hesitated before saying, “Look, Y/N, it’s late… and freezing outside. Han’s room has a proper bed in it, you can crash in there with him. Why don’t you just stay here? No point in waking him up this late.”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. This was unfamiliar territory—uncharted ground.

But he was right. Waking Han up at this hour would be like waking the dead.

And deep down, you weren’t sure you wanted to leave. After a moment, you nodded. “Okay. That makes sense. Thanks, Yoon.”

Yoongi nodded, pushing off the couch. “You know where the shower is if you need it. I’ll grab some clothes for you.”

You thanked him again, grateful for the chance to wash away the long day. Under the warm spray, the weight of exhaustion finally started to melt from your shoulders. You hadn’t realized just how tense you’d been until now.

Stepping out, you reached for the bundle of clothes Yoongi had left on the bathroom counter. A fresh wave of warmth rolled through you when you saw the shirt he’d tossed in.

It was that shirt.

The same one he’d pulled off of you leaving a trail of heated kisses the night you’d conceived Han.

Your breath caught as memories surged—muttered I love yous, desperate hands roaming over heated skin, the way you’d come undone beneath him, Yoongi’s voice hushed and reverent against your ear.

You swallowed hard, gripping the fabric tightly. It smelled like laundry detergent and something undeniably him.

Shaking off the past, you slipped it over your head. It was soft and worn-in, the fabric hanging loose against your frame, and the scent of it wrapped around you like a ghost of something you once had.

Padding quietly into Han’s room, you stopped at the sight before you.

He was curled up in the middle of the bed, one arm tucked under his cheek, the other resting on the stuffed toy Yoongi had given him earlier that day. His tiny chest rose and fell in even breaths, peaceful in his dreams.

Carefully, you crawled in beside him, pulling the blanket up over both of you. As your head hit the pillow, you glanced at the doorway, half-expecting Yoongi to still be standing there.

But the hall was empty.

Still, as you closed your eyes, wrapped in the lingering scent of Yoongi’s shirt, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—things weren’t as broken as you once thought.

Waking up in an unfamiliar room threw you at first. For a few groggy seconds, disoriented and tangled in unfamiliar sheets, you couldn’t quite place where you were. Then, as your brain caught up, you heard Han’s giggles echo through the apartment.

Memories of last night flooded in—the late shift, Yoongi offering you a place to stay, slipping into a t-shirt that carried memories. Memories you didn’t want to confront right this second.

Pushing the blanket off, you stretched before padding toward the sound of laughter.

Peeking into the kitchen, you found Yoongi standing at the counter, chopping up fruit. His face was set in soft concentration, but every so often, he’d look at Han and pull an exaggerated expression—puffed cheeks, scrunched nose, or wide, cartoonish eyes.

Han, perched on a stool beside him, giggled each time, mirroring the faces back at his father with unrestrained joy.

You lingered in the doorway, watching them with hearts in your eyes.

It was domestic in a way you hadn’t dared to imagine. The easy familiarity of it, the warmth in the air—it made your throat tighten.

Then, Han’s shy little voice broke through the moment.

“Appa…?”

Yoongi hummed, already attuned to the hesitance in Han’s tone as he pushed a plate of sliced banana and blueberries toward him. “Yeah, bubs?”

Han hesitated, playing with a piece of fruit before murmuring, “Eomma misses you.”

The words sent a shockwave through both you and Yoongi.

Yoongi froze mid-movement, his knuckles tightening around the knife handle.

You sucked in a breath, heart stuttering.

“Han, bub…” Yoongi set the knife down carefully, trying to find the right words, his voice quiet but steady. “Me and your eomma… it’s complicated.”

Han pouted, his small fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “But I heard her and Uncle Jin talking” His voice trembled slightly, the way it did when he was trying hard to be brave. “She cried a bit and said she loves you.”

Your chest ached.

Yoongi inhaled sharply, his expression shifting, eyes flickering toward you in the hallway before returning to Han.

“And I heard you talk to uncle joon if you love each other,” Han continued, his little brows drawing together in confusion, “why not love each other together?” His face turning to frustration at you and yoongi not understanding his faultless toddler logic

Yoongi let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his dark, fluffy morning hair before rounding the counter to scoop Han up into his arms. The little boy curled into his chest instinctively, pressing his face against his father’s shoulder.

“Oh, buddy,” Yoongi murmured, rubbing soothing circles into Han’s back. His voice was gentle, but there was a weight to it, a sadness. “Sometimes… sometimes things aren’t that easy. No matter how much we wish they were.”

Han sniffled against his shirt, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric.

Yoongi turned slightly, his eyes lifting to meet yours across the room.

His gaze was unreadable, but the emotions were there—shining, raw, unguarded. And fuck, Han had just opened a can of worms you and Yoongi needed to sort through.

And soon.

But Han was on a roll, and once his stubborn streak kicked in, there was no stopping him.

“Why not?!” he cried, his tiny fists balling up as he lightly thumped Yoongi’s chest repeatedly in frustration. His lower lip wobbled, his face scrunching up as tears welled in his eyes.

Yoongi didn’t flinch, just tightened his hold, drawing Han closer. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over Han’s back as the little boy broke down completely, sobbing into his father’s shirt. “It’s okay, Han ssshh it’s okay.”

Your own heart clenched at the sight.

“Han, baby, that’s enough,” you interjected softly, stepping forward as Han’s tiny body trembled with hiccuping cries.

You could hear him mumbling something into Yoongi’s chest, the words too muffled to make out.

“Come here, sweetheart.” You reached for him gently, but he clung tighter to Yoongi. The rejection stung but you understood, Han was working through a lot of pent up, big emotions his little body didn’t know what to do with.

So you stood beside them instead, placing a comforting hand on Han’s back. “Look at Eomma,” you coaxed gently. “Deep breaths, just like we practiced.”

Sniffling, Han hesitated, but then let Yoongi shift him slightly so he could meet your gaze. His red, tear-streaked face nearly shattered you.

Still, you forced a smile, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, demonstrating for him. “Breathe with me, bubba.”

Han hiccupped but did his best, mirroring your breaths. In, out. In, out. Slowly, his sobs turned to sniffles.

“There you go,” you praised, brushing damp curls from his forehead. “Good job, baby.”

Yoongi stayed silent, his arms still securely wrapped around Han, his gaze flickering between you both.

“Now,” you continued gently, cupping Han’s small face. “Use your words, like a brave boy.”

Han rubbed at his eyes with his fists before sniffling. “I just… I just want you and Appa together.” His voice was small, but the weight of his words filled the space between you like a tidal wave. “Like other kids at school. They have their appa and their eomma.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Oh, baby…”

Yoongi let out a shuddering breath, his hand rubbing slow circles into Han’s back.

“It’s not that simple, bubs,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “But I promise—no matter what, Eomma and I love you more than anything in the whole world.”

Han sniffled again, looking between the two of you. “Why? Why isn’t it!”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Your breath hitched. Yoongi’s grip on Han tightened ever so slightly.

And for the first time in years, you and Yoongi locked eyes and truly looked at each other. No anger, no regret. Just unspoken words, years of longing and missed chances.

Han had opened a wound that hadn’t fully healed.

And now, you and Yoongi had no choice but to confront it.

You had the perfect chance a few days later.

Han was still sulking about that day's conversation, making it clear he wasn’t ready to let it go. But you and Yoongi needed to talk—alone away from little ears.

Y/N: Can we talk? We need to, about Han’s outburst.

Yoongi: We definitely do. I’m at a photo shoot at the moment. It should be done by 12. Han’s out of preschool at 3, yeah?

You confirmed that he was and that you could meet him at his apartment after noon.

The drive to Yoongi's apartment felt endless, each traffic light stretching into eternity as Han's words echoed in your mind. I just want you and Appa together. Such a simple wish from your son, but the weight of it pressed against your chest like an iron band.

Standing at his door now, your heart thundered against your ribs. You'd been here countless times over the past months, but this felt different. The air itself seemed charged with possibility and fear in equal measure.

When Yoongi opened the door, you nearly forgot how to breathe. He was still styled from his photoshoot—dark hair perfectly tousled, subtle makeup enhancing his sharp features, making him look almost ethereal in the soft afternoon light. 

But it was the vulnerability in his eyes that caught you off guard, the slight tension in his jaw that told you he was just as nervous as you were.

He stepped aside wordlessly, letting you into the apartment that had become a second home to Han. Awards still lined the walls, but now they shared space with crayon drawings and small toys. The evidence of your son's presence here made your throat tight.

"Want some tea?" Yoongi's voice was rough, like he was trying too hard to keep it steady.

You nodded, grateful for the momentary reprieve. As he moved to the kitchen, you sank onto his couch, fingers twisting in your lap. The silence stretched between you, heavy with everything unsaid.

When he returned with two steaming mugs, his hands were trembling slightly. He set them down carefully before taking a seat across from you, maintaining a careful distance that somehow hurt more than if he'd sat closer.

"About Han's outburst, I don't even know where to start." you started, voice wavering. The words felt inadequate against the magnitude of what you needed to discuss.

"I do." Yoongi's voice was controlled but thick with emotion. He ran a hand through his hair, disturbing its perfect styling. "But first... I need you to understand something."

Your stomach tightened at his tone. "What?"

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. "That last time I tried to reach you... it wasn't me walking away." His voice was hollow, bitter. "They made sure I couldn't reach you even if I wanted to."

Your breath caught. "What do you mean?"

Yoongi's fingers curled into fists, knuckles white with tension. "These men in suits" he said, voice dropping lower. "They called me into a meeting after catching me trying to call you again, guess they finally got sick of my shit after the times we had already spoken when you left. But they had a whole fucking PowerPoint presentation ready."

He stood, pacing toward the window. The afternoon light caught his profile, highlighting the sharp clench of his jaw. "Screenshots of our calls. Our messages. Pictures of us together—some I didn't even know existed." His voice tense stated. "Laid out like evidence of a fucking crime."

Your stomach dropped, remembering Namjoon's words from months ago. "Yoongi..."

"They had everything, Y/N." He turned to face you, and the raw pain in his eyes made your chest ache. "Every late-night call. Every secret meeting. That weekend in Busan when we thought no one would recognize me." His voice cracked slightly. "The way you'd sneak into the practice room or dorm after hours."

Memories flooded back—stolen kisses in dark corridors, whispered promises between schedules, the way his eyes would light up when you appeared unexpectedly. All those precious moments you'd thought were just yours, tainted by surveillance you'd never truly known about.

"They showed me exactly how they'd spin it," he continued, running trembling fingers through his hair. "How they'd make you look like some obsessed fan trying to ruin my career. How they'd destroy your reputation, your career, your years at university, everything would have been for nothing." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "And I'd seen them do it before. To others who stepped out of line."

You stood on shaky legs, moving closer to him. "That's why the calls stopped? Why everything changed?"

He nodded, throat working visibly. "They monitored everything after that. My phone, my schedule, my movements." His eyes met yours, filled with years of unspoken pain. "I couldn't even text you without putting you at risk."

"God, Yoongi..." Tears threatened to run down your cheeks as true understanding dawned. "Back then I truly thought... I thought you just didn't care anymore, but I do yoongi and I understand now."

"Care?" The word came out sharp, almost high pitched. He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the slight tremor in his hands. "You were everything to me, Y/N. Everything." 

His voice cracked. "And I had to sit there and watch them turn our relationship into something dirty and wrong, something that needed to be controlled."

Your breath hitched as he continued, words spilling out like he couldn't hold them back anymore.

"Do you know what it was like?" His voice was raw, exposed. "Watching you walk away, knowing I couldn't follow? Having to pretend I was fine in interviews while wondering if you were okay? If you were happy?" He swallowed hard. "If you'd found someone else?"

A gasp caught in your throat. "Yoongi, I never—"

"And then," he cut you off, something fierce blazing in his eyes, "then I found out about Han. That while I was sitting in that fucking conference room, letting them control my life, you were out there... pregnant. Alone."

His voice broke on the last word, and something in you shattered with it.

"You want to know the worst part?" He laughed, but it was a broken sound. "When you told me about him, when I saw him that first time... all I could think about was how many moments I'd missed. His first steps, his first words..." His breath shuddered. "Did he cry a lot as a baby? Did he have trouble sleeping? Was he early or late, did he have trouble learning to walk? All these things I should have known, should have been there for..."

You reached for him instinctively, but stopped yourself halfway. "I wanted to tell you," you whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, every time he kicked... God, Yoongi, you were all I thought about."

His eyes locked onto yours, something vulnerable breaking through his carefully maintained control. "Tell me," he said softly. "Tell me everything I missed."

The request knocked the air from your lungs. You sank back onto the couch, and after a moment's hesitation, he joined you, closer this time.

"He..." Your voice wavered. "He used to kick like crazy whenever I played one of your songs." You smiled. "The first time it happened, I just... I broke down completely."

Yoongi's breath hitched, his hands clenching in his lap.

"The birth was hard," you continued, the memories washing over you. "Twenty-six hours of labor. I kept... I kept wishing you were there. Kept imagining you pacing the halls, driving the nurses crazy." A wet laugh escaped. "But when they put him in my arms... Yoongi, he had your eyes. Your complexion, a full head of black hair. And I knew—" Your voice cracked. "I knew I'd made the biggest mistake of my life not telling you."

"Why didn't you?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "After he was born, why..."

You met his gaze. "I thought... I thought I was protecting you, both of you and that's the truth of it Yoongi"

Yoongi was quiet for a long moment, processing. Then, unexpectedly, he reached for your hand. His touch was hesitant, gentle, but it sent electricity through your veins.

"You want to know something else?" A small, defiant smile tugged at his lips. "When I finally told them about Han, I was ready for world war three. Called the damn meeting myself. Same conference room, same suits." His thumb brushed absently over your knuckles. "But I wasn't that scared kid anymore."

"What happened?" you whispered, caught between fear and hope.

"I walked in there with every screenshot, every threat they'd ever made. Years of documentation, ready to fight." His voice carried quiet strength now. "Told them I had a son, and that nothing, not their threats, not this outdated idea of how an idol should present themselves—was going to keep me from him." 

He squeezed your hand. "Said they could either work with me on this, or I'd go public with everything. Every manipulative tactic, every threat, every moment of control they'd held over us." His eyes met yours, fierce and determined. "I told them I'd burn my own career to the ground before I missed another second of Han's life."

A gasp left you one filled with pride, with relief, with something dangerously risky, love .

"The look on their faces," he continued, satisfaction coloring his tone. "Seven men in expensive suits, completely speechless. Their threats didn't seem so powerful anymore." His expression softened as he looked at you. "Because this time, I knew exactly what I was fighting for. And I wasn't going to let them take my family from me. Not again, they sat there all too eager to try cover their ass and i quote ‘keep our favourite producer and artist happy’ the fake sweetness in there voices"

you gasped softly, the word settling heavy in your chest. "Yoongi, I—"

"Let me finish," he interrupted gently, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Because there's something else you need to know."

You nodded, heart thundering against your ribs.

"These past few months with Han..." His voice softened, vulnerability seeping through. "Watching him fit into my life, learning his little habits, his fears, his favorite things... it's been everything. But it also showed me what I missed." He swallowed hard. "And what I'm still missing."

Your breath caught as his dark eyes met yours, intense and unguarded.

"Every time he does something that reminds me of you—the way he scrunches his nose when he's thinking, how stubborn he gets when he's tired—it hits me all over again." His voice dropped lower. "How much I missed you too."

"Yoongi..." Your voice cracked on his name.

"I was angry," he admitted, running his free hand through his hair. "Fuck, I was so angry when I found out about Han. But then I'd see you with him—how gentle you are, how much you sacrificed to protect him, to give him a good life..." He exhaled shakily. "And I'd remember why I fell in love with you in the first place."

Tears spilled down your cheeks. "I never stopped," you whispered. "Loving you. Even when it hurt, even when I thought you'd moved on… I never stopped."

His thumb brushed away your tears, the gesture achingly familiar. "Neither did I."

The admission hung between you, heavy with possibility and fear in equal measure.

"But Han..." you started, thinking of your son's tearful pleas.

"Han comes first," Yoongi said firmly. "Always. Which is why we need to do this right." He shifted to face you fully. "I want to try, Y/N. To build something real—not just for Han, but for us. But we have to be smart about it."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we take it slow. Really slow." His expression was serious but soft. "We figure out co-parenting first. Build trust again. Deal with the company and the public when the time comes." His lips quirked slightly. "Maybe even go on an actual date that doesn't involve hiding in practice rooms or sneaking through back doors."

A wet laugh escaped you. "You asking me out, Min Yoongi?"

His smile grew, gentle and genuine. "Maybe. Eventually." Then his expression sobered. "But first, we need to talk to Han. Help him understand that while things are changing, they might not look exactly like he imagines right away."

You nodded, squeezing his hand. "One day at a time?"

"One day at a time," he agreed. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he tugged you closer. "But right now... can I just hold you? It's been three years, Y/N, and I—"

You didn't let him finish. Moving into his arms felt like coming home, like something broken finally clicking back into place. His embrace was careful at first, then tighter, more desperate, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. And you stayed like that, tangled in each other's arms for a while before you had to leave to pick up Han.

************************************************************************

The drive from Yoongi's apartment felt surreal, your mind replaying every moment of your conversation. His confessions about the meeting and what had happened, the weight of his missed years with Han, the careful hope in his eyes when he talked about building something new—it all swirled in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to ground yourself.

Pulling up to the daycare, you took a deep breath. You had to handle this carefully—had to find the right words to help your little boy understand that while things were changing, they might not change as quickly or simply as he wanted.

Han's face lit up when he saw you, but the usual bounce in his step was missing. His small shoulders were still heavy with the emotions of his changing world, his lower lip jutting out in that stubborn pout that was so much like his father's.

The drive home was quiet, Han clutching his backpack to his chest like a shield. Your heart ached, knowing how much his little heart was carrying.

Once home, you settled Han in the living room, tucking a blanket around him as he curled up on the couch, his stuffed bunny clutched in his small hands. His big, round eyes finally flickered up to meet yours when you sat down beside him.

"Han, baby," you started gently, smoothing a hand over his soft hair, "Appa and I had a grown-up talk today."

Han's little brows furrowed, his lips pressing together in a thin line. You could see the wheels turning in his head, hope and worry battling in his expressive eyes—eyes so much like Yoongi's it made your heart clench.

"We talked about everything," you continued, choosing your words carefully. "About you, about us, about all the big feelings you've been having." You tucked a stray curl behind his ear, your touch gentle. "And we want you to know that it's okay to have those feelings."

Han's grip on his bunny tightened, his small voice barely above a whisper. "Did... did Appa say he doesn't want to be with us?"

"Oh, baby, no," you pulled him into your lap, and he came willingly, curling into your chest like he used to when he was smaller. "Appa loves us, loves you very much. But sometimes..." you searched for words he could understand,

"sometimes grown-up love is complicated. Like when you're building with your blocks—you can't just stack them all at once, right? You have to build slowly, carefully, make sure each piece is steady before you add the next one."

Han sniffled, his tiny fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "But why? If you love each other..."

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of his strawberry shampoo. "Because love isn't always enough by itself, bubba. Appa and I, we need to learn how to trust each other again. We need to make sure we're doing things right—for you, for us, for our family."

"But we are a family," he insisted, his voice wobbling. "You, me, and Appa. And Uncle Jin, and Uncle Joon, and Uncle Chim, and Uncle Kookie, Uncle hoba, Uncle Tae.."

A wet laugh escaped you. "Yes, we are. And that's not going to change. But Appa and I, we need to take our time. Like..." you thought for a moment, "like when you're learning a new game at school. You can't play the whole game right away, right? You have to learn the rules slowly."

Han was quiet for a moment, processing. Then, in a small voice: "Will Appa still want to see me?"

"Oh, sweetheart," your heart broke at the fear in his voice. "Of course he will. Appa loves you so, so much. Nothing will ever change that. In fact," you smiled against his hair, "he wants to make your room at his house even more special. Make it feel more like home."

Han perked up slightly at that. "Can I have stars on the ceiling? Like here?"

"I'm sure Appa would love to put stars up for you," you assured him. 

"And maybe... maybe sometimes you, Appa and I can all do things together. Like go to the park, or have dinner, or watch movies."

Han's eyes lit up with cautious hope. "Like a real family?"

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. "We are a real family, baby. Just... a different kind. One that's growing and changing and learning." You tilted his chin up gently, meeting his gaze. "But no matter what happens between me and Appa, no matter how long it takes us to figure things out, we will always, always love you. You understand?"

Han nodded slowly, his little chest rising with a shaky breath. "Promise?"

"Promise," you whispered, holding him closer. "With all my heart."

He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing evening out as he processed everything. As you carried him to the kitchen to start dinner, your phone buzzed with a message.

Yoongi: How is he?

You smiled, typing back one-handed while Han chattered about what kind of stars he wanted in his room at Yoongi’s house.

You: Better. We're okay. One day at a time, remember?

His response came quickly:

Yoongi: One day at a time. Tell him I love him

You pressed a kiss to Han's temple, whispering, "Appa says he loves you, baby."

Han's whole face lit up, and in that moment, you knew—no matter how complicated things were, no matter how long it took, this was worth it.

This was everything.

Later that night, after tucking Han into bed—complete with three stories, two glasses of water, and multiple reassurances that yes, he would see Appa tomorrow—you sank onto your couch, emotionally drained but somehow lighter.

Your phone buzzed again:

Yoongi: He asleep?

You smiled, typing back: Finally. After making me promise five times that you'd still come to his class presentation next week.

Yoongi: Wouldn't miss it. Did he say anything else... about us?

Your heart squeezed at the hesitation you could feel even through text.

You: He's processing. But I think he understands, as much as a three-year-old can. He's excited about his room at your place.

Yoongi: About that... would you maybe want to help this weekend? Pick out some stuff for it? We could take him shopping, make it special.

The thought of spending time together, doing something so normal, so domestic, made your chest tight with hope.

You: I'd like that. But are you sure? People might see us...

His response was immediate:

Yoongi: Let them. He's our priority now. Everything else can wait.

Then, a moment later:

Yoongi: Besides, Jin's already invited himself along. Says we can't be trusted to decorate without his "expert eye"

You laughed out loud, remembering Jin's dramatic declarations about interior design during your earlier visits.

You: God help us all.

Yoongi: Exactly. Save me?

The playful tone, so reminiscent of your early days together, made you smile.

You: Always.

There was a pause, then:

Yoongi: Y/N?

You: Yeah?

Yoongi: Thank you. For today. For everything with Han. For... giving us a chance.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you typed:

You: Thank you for wanting to try.

His response made your heart skip:

Yoongi: Always have. Always will.

You hugged a pillow to your chest, feeling like a teenager with her first crush all over again.

You: Goodnight, Yoongi.

Yoongi: Goodnight, Y/N.

Setting your phone aside, you leaned back, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling—the ones Han insisted on having in every room. Soon, he'd have them at Yoongi's place too. A piece of home in both places.

That's what you were building—not something entirely new, not something from the past, but something in between. Something that took the best parts of what was and carefully, slowly shaped them into what could be.

From down the hall, you heard Han's soft snores, peaceful and content. In your hand, your phone lit up with one last message:

Yoongi: Sweet dreams 

And for the first time in years, you felt like they would be.

Taglist: @busanbby-jjk @jajabro @kam9404 @yoongiiuu93 @julseka07 @tea4sykes @marihoneywk @maryhopemei @sanarin @misschelliejeon @boraluv @wobblewobble822 @amarawayne @hyuninslutbbgirl @Granataepfelchen @mar-lo-pap @enfppuff @senaqsstuff @vainkiss @rinkud @lanyia

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 6

pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader ft. hobi x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader

smut: taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader, some hobi x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

genre: 18+ slow burn romance mafia elite arranged marriage murder mystery thriller

characters: detective jungkook, heir taehyung, ceo namjoon, arms dealer hoseok, bartender yoongi, doctor jimin, best friend/heir seokjin

wordcount: 6.2k

warnings: 18+ multiple smut scenes, oral (f and m), fingering, sexual tension, like a lot of sexual tension, a lot of subtle touching, grinding, kisses, possessive behavior, tsundere!taehyung, implied bipolar disorder, angstttt, betrayal, light yandere undertones, taehyung gets his first kiss...and some other things too ;) breast play, hella teasing, did i mention sexual tension idk taehyung is hot ok but hes also scary do with that what you will, declarations of love, jungkook tryna be sweet we been knew ig, as you might imagine this sets the foreplay for loads of smut in the next part LOL, its a lot of slow burn build up and evident thirsting over this taehyung okay im not sorry

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

“I can’t lose you”

Taehyung’s words haunted you as you stared aimlessly at the tiled ceiling. The hospital room chilly, the smell of alcohol—the sanitizing kind, unfortunately—overwhelming your senses. There were other things you could be thinking about. Namjoon in jail. Jimin dead. Hobi betraying your trust.

But no. It had been Taehyung’s eyes that were on your mind—was it concern? Worry? Taehyung with emotions was a rare sighting. You were practically cherishing the moment.   

“It’s late”

The devil in question sat by the windowsill of your private hospital room, minding his own. Reading. Fingers bending the corners of a paperback novel as his eyes trailed over the pages with interest.

Even in the dark hue of the night, the faded moon seemed to hit his face just right.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Go to sleep” His answer was frank, “None of that matters until you get better”

“How can I not think about it?” You snapped. “Namjoon went to jail for me. Because I was an idiot and trusted Hobi. Bet my ass he killed Dr. Park too. I’m probably next. And if he murders me—you won’t get to, Tae”

The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled ever so slightly.

His uninterested eyes steady on the pages of his novel. Not bothering to glance your way.

“Have you ever considered just keeping yourself out of dangerous situations? Whatever it is you’re trying to prove…that you’re powerful, like your mother…that my family wronged you—all it does is show that you’re still their puppet.”

He exhaled sharply, a dismissive scoff that tore your confidence thread by thread, finally meeting your eyes.

“It’s pathetic”

You’d had just about enough of him. Fingernails digging into your palms.

“You’re an asshole Taehyung” You informed him. He shrugged.

“I’m honest” He countered. “And you’re not used to that. You’re used to being babied.” Finally setting his book aside, he walked up to your bedside, kneeling down until he was at your eye level.

“Now will you please sleep?”

The look in his eyes perplexed you. You couldn’t quite tell if he was annoyed, or if he genuinely cared about your health.

Deep down, you knew he was right. Everything you’d done had been to prove a point.

Taehyung rested his head on the armrest. Watching you intently, his eyes tired, dropping unconsciously.

“You’re the one who needs sleep, idiot” You muttered under your breath, letting your fingers run through his soft, wispy black hair. “Taehyung” You nudged him. He barely opened his eyes. 

“Get in here” You shifted over, giving him space. He didn’t question it in the moment, he was probably too tired. He didn’t face you. Kept a decent distance between you both.

You were paralyzed. Aware of his every breath. Aware of the way he shifted himself to get comfortable—you could sense the intention in his avoidance of touching your skin even slightly. His scent was more prominent.

“Do you miss your mother?”

His question was so quiet, you weren’t even sure it was real.

And it occurred to you then, that you’d never thought about it. That you’d never even been asked. In the chaos of your mother’s death, your move to the Kim’s and Taehyung being sent away—you barely even processed anything. All you remembered was Jin being so patronizingly worried about you—convincing you that he was all you needed. That you moving in with him would fix everything.

You blinked wildly. Trying to piece together a coherent answer.

“I liked her” A smile creeped onto his face. Or so you thought, as you turned to see the side of his face—his eyes steady on the ceiling fan. “She’d always get me hotteok”

You watched him. Inspected the mole on his neck. The curve of his cheek. The way his long lashes merged when he’d blink. The way the night sparkled in his eyes. The same eyes that would bend your will so easily.

Young Taehyung would give you one look and you’d give him the world. And he’d known it too.

It was so quiet. But your chest was beating loud in your ears.

You must have fallen asleep despite yourself. Dreaming of Jungkook had become a standard practice. This time, he was drowning. You were him, and he couldn’t breathe. You reached out to him as he screamed for you. He was terrified. Falling. Dying.

Breathe.

You tried to tell him. Swim to the surface. Breathe. Something chained him down.

Your eyes shot open.

It was dark.

You. You couldn’t breathe.

Suffocating you, the cotton tasted bitter on your toungue. You squirmed. Thrashing, trying to grab for someone—anyone. You screamed out, for what it was worth. Scratching at the strong hands that held the pillow down over your face.

Adrenaline surged. It occurred to you to kick your legs. You did.

Suddenly the grip loosened.

Taehyung was on the floor.

Panting.

Hyperventilating.

The pillow inches from his palm.

He was quivering. Eyes shot—looking down as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.

You stared at him. Trying to comprehend. Trying to rationalize.

“Taehyung” His name left your mouth in a more accusatory manner than you meant it to. Was it a question or a plea—you were unsure. He met your eyes, and you saw fear. As if he’d been pulled out of a trance.

“I—” He couldn’t form the words. He receded into himself, moving back until he was as far from your hospital bed as he could be. Back pressed against the wall as he hugged his knees to his chest. His voice was shaking, “I don’t—”

“Were you trying to kill me?” You yelped, looking around suddenly for your phone. Grabbing it you held it to your chest, ready to call for help if he tried anything. You almost wanted to laugh—thinking for a moment that you were safe around Kim fucking Taehyung.

You should’ve known better.

Taehyung’s eyes were overcome with horror. Disgust, at himself. He looked at his hands as if they weren’t a part of his own body. Then back at you.

“Princess” He was breathless, “—I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was d-dreaming, I didn’t know”

You gulped. Your fingers curling around your phone as you tried to think.

Maybe he was telling you the truth. Taehyung didn’t know to lie to you. He was honest if nothing else.

“Come back” You let your voice soften, but your body remained tense. “Go back to sleep Tae”

Taehyung gave you an uncertain look.

You rose from the bed, the hospital gown falling loosely around your curves. Kneeling down, you met his eyes at his level. Taking the pillow from the ground, you reached your other hand out to him.

“Maybe,” You sighed, “Maybe being in a hospital is triggering for you” It was a stretch, but you needed to believe there was something. Something that wasn’t that Taehyung hated your guts. Resented you, and would go as far as to kill you in your sleep because of it.

“It is”

He confessed quietly, still not meeting your gaze.

The pout on his lips, evident.

“You didn’t have to stay”

He looked at you.

He said nothing.

“Why don’t I call Yoongi, hm?” You reasoned, “He can take you home” And then you can call Jungkook and get the fuck away from him.

The phone rang.

Jungkook groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.

It kept fucking ringing.

Knowing deep down it might be the precinct, reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.

“Hey”

Your voice was an aphrodisiac.

He felt it straight in his chest. Awake, now. Worried, seconds later.

He rubbed his eyes, checking his phone to see how late it was.

“Y/n? Baby, is everything okay? Are you still at the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” You weren’t. He could hear the tremble in your voice, “I just sent Taehyung home. Can I come to your place?”

Jungkook sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there soon”

Perks of having a police vehicle. Traffic was never an issue for him.

Entering the hospital, he noticed Yoongi and Taehyung in the lobby, heading towards the back exit. Yoongi had his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Seemed to be reassuring him.

Jungkook wondered what happened. You called Yoongi to the hospital so late to take Taehyung home.

He got in the elevator. He knew what room you were in. He’d been the one to bring you to the hospital, before the staff kindly reminded him he was not family—or rather, he wasn’t a Kim, and therefore couldn’t go into your room.

Then Jimin’s body was found. Duty called.

Three gunshots. He didn’t see him, but the autopsy report was eerily similar to that of his own fathers.

You were waiting at the front desk of the inpatient ward. Signing what he assumed were your discharge papers. You noticed him, eyes lighting up immediately.

Jungkook placed his calloused palm against your cheek. Your eyes were so fucking beautiful it stung him just to look at you.

“You’re okay” He breathed, reassuring himself more than anything. His voice trembled softly into a chuckle as you nodded, covering his palm with your own.

“Yeah, I’m okay” His lips neared yours, not touching, but enough for you to feel his breath scrape against your nerves.

He took your hand in his, and led you out of the hospital to his car. It was a short drive to his apartment. It occurred to him that you’d likely never stepped foot on this side of the city. The streets were narrow. Crippling houses dotted his peripheral—a faint scent of smoke through his windows.

He parked on the edge of the street, in front of an average-sized apartment complex.

“The Jeon Manor” He joked lightly.

You pouted, grabbing his hand. Fingers lacing with his.

“You know I don’t care that you’re not rich”

Jungkook wanted to scoff. But he held it back. If only you knew. If only you realized what could have been his, if it hadn’t been for—

“I don’t care where we are, I just want to be with you”

You brought his hand to your lips.

“Stop” He exhaled.

“W-what?”

“Stop saying shit like that when you won’t fucking commit”

You gulped. His stare was intense as he pulled his hand away from you, running in through his dark curls.

“Jungkook” You reached for his shirt, tugging the fabric towards you but Jungkook’s jaw hardened. He turned away. “Jungkook I’m serious”

“You won’t leave Nexus for me, you told me that. You won’t fight for me”

You tugged harder. He grabbed your wrist, harsher than he meant to. Glaring at you.

You didn’t understand. Jungkook should have known. Why would you? This was personal for you. Running Nexus was a point you had to prove, he understood that. But it was the very thing he needed you to give up. If not, then you’d never forgive him for what was coming.

“I love you”

Jungkook’s eyes clenched shut, almost out of regret. He felt tears but pushed them down.

“No.” He shook his head. Shit. He had let this go too far.

For as much as he’d wanted to hear it, it was a wake up call. The two of you couldn’t be together.

“You can’t”

Then he kissed you. His heart was erratic, breathing too. A desperate kiss, fierce with need. Your body fell limp, melting into his touch. Falling into him because he was everything and all you needed.

-

Somehow, he brought you to his apartment. Kicking the door closed.

He lifted you onto the counter, not letting you breathe—not letting you think, but fighting a sweet war with your lips. You were spinning. Losing yourself every passing second—seconds which passed so slowly as the moment consumed you.

His hands which rested on the sides of your hips, crawled beneath the hem of your shirt. Delicately they explored your skin, rising to the curves of your chest. Caressing your breast, he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing past yours, tangling together.

“Jungkook” You whimpered. His mouth slanting down your jaw, to your neck. Where he tasted your sweet skin and you arched into him. His fingers drawing across your nipples with intention, causing fire to pulse through you.

You could feel him pressed against you, hips locked. Rocking ever so slightly.

Your phone began to vibrate. Jungkook hissed in irritation, backing away as you answered the call.

“Y/n”

Your blood ran cold.

That voice.

“Run”

You could see Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you. The line went dead. You were too stunned to speak.

“Who was it?” Jungkook inquired, looking at your phone. Gulping, you shook your head.

“I-um—just remembered that I need to take care of something”

His fingers hovered over your waist. “Okay, I can drive you” You stiffened as he kissed your neck again. “Or we could go after 20 minutes” His voice was husky.

Run.

Jungkook’s lips dipped to your chest, pushing the hem of your t-shirt up. Leaving pronounced kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

You squinted behind him. There was an old family photograph hanging on the wall.

Two young boys. A father.

Their suits. Well-tailored. Designer.

Your breath hitched, Jungkook’s fingers slid across your slit.

“I love you baby” He mumbled as his lips returned to yours. “So fucking much, I almost hate you for it”

Two boys. A father.

Two.

“You’re an only child, right?”

Jungkook’s actions halted.

“Yeah,” He wiped his lips, “My mom died when I was young.”

“Any, other relatives…?” You slid off the counter carefully, pieces in your mind beginning to fit together.

Jungkook’s face hardened. Jaw stiff.

“Did Jimin say some bullshit to you?”

Oh God. Jimin had been hinting at some connection between Jin and Jungkook all along. You thought it had been a joke. A way to toy with Jungkook’s head.

That day. After you fucked Jungkook for the first time. Jin saw him. Jin knew him.

What if Jimin had been right? What if he had been the only one who was truly looking out for you all along?

“Did you kill Jimin?” The question had no sound. The air was still. The two of you, frozen in time.

“Come on, Y/n.” Jungkook sighed, “Jimin got what he deserved, but no I did not. He hurt you. He’s insane”

You flinched when he reached for your wrist.

He knew you figured it out.

You stepped outside the apartment. Running down the steps until you were back on the street. Outside Yoongi stood, leaning against the stone wall across the street as though he were expecting you.

“You knew” Was all you said.

Yoongi sighed, “I knew about Jungkook, but I needed to make sure if my hunch about Jin was true.”

You laughed bitterly. “That’s why my mother hated Jin. Because,” You couldn’t even say it. It made you want to vomit.

“Jin is a Jeon”

You blinked back tears. “But, why would he kill his own father?”

“Unless, he didn’t”

“Oh my God. You think…” You exhaled, feeling weak again. Yoongi held you upright. “Taehyung?”

He shrugged lightly, “It’s possible. More believable that a mother sends away the son who killed her lover than a son who simply witnessed something”

You were silent.

“You need to be careful” He made his voice as soft and kind as he possibly could. “I know about Hobi, but I’m honestly more suspicious of Jungkook.”

You nodded. The sun seemed to peak out from the horizon. A new day. A new betrayal.

Then the sound of the voice on the phone hit you. Run. So familiar. Like a ghost.

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah love?”

“Did you call my phone earlier?”

He shook his head. “No…why?”

“You’re back early” Taehyung answered the door, “Figured you’d spend the whole night with the Detective” His bland tone seemed to have been revived. You were too bewildered to care. You pushed past him, Yoongi following behind. Taehyung greeted him nicely. “Hyung”

You slumped into the couch immediately. Hand on your forehead as if it would ease the pounding.

Yoongi watched you, concerned. Taehyung looked to him for an explanation.

“So listen,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we still need to stay focused on pushing Hoseok out. The shareholders will be at the casino this evening for the anniversary gala”

“Yoongi” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t want to—”

“Y/n,” He responded, adamant, “This is what it’s like. You can’t hide just because shit’s hard. You’re not Jin’s princess anymore, you have responsibilities if you want back what’s yours. Taehyung isn’t ready to handle society on his own. He needs you”

A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Get some sleep” Yoongi rested his hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently. “It’s 7 AM, you’ve got plenty of time to get yourself together” His gaze diverted to Taehyung. “Black tie formal. I’ll send a suit for you. Make sure this one starts getting dressed at least 3 hours before we leave—she takes forever”

You let out a sad laugh, knowing Yoongi was trying to cheer you up but failing epically when all you had was a broken heart and impending doom.

Yoongi left, but Taehyung remained standing in front of you. A safe distance away, he simply observed you.

“You can sit you know” You grumbled.

He didn’t react. Didn’t move an inch.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired after a moment.

“Nothing,” You chuckled, “Just another missed opportunity for you to be the cause of my misery.”

“Was it,” Taehyung took a deep breath. Pausing, considering his next words carefully, “Was it him? Did the Detective hurt you?”

His eyes seemed to flash with something you couldn’t quite read.

“No” You stood up finally, “No the Detective is just another lying, manipulative asshole like the rest of you”

You walked past him, heading towards the foyer.

“I thought you loved him”

You whirled around. How he had managed to pick that up, you had no idea.

“I’ve decided I’m done with love” You stated confidently, “I end up falling for liars anyway”

You proceeded to storm up the stairs.

You were woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. Squinting, the evening sun blaring into your room, you noticed Taehyung pacing nervously outside of your room.

He was dressed.

Yoongi must have come by with the suit. It fit him perfectly. His dark hair was styled, tousled but neater than usual. His shoulders were prominent. The tailoring was perfect for his lean figure, and long legs. A gold watch on his wrist. It looked natural. He wore it so well.

Just like his brother.

Run.

“You’re awake” Finally, Taehyung stepped inside your room.

“Get dressed” He motioned towards a dry-cleaning bag that lay on your desk.

“Taehyung,” You sat upright, wiping the drool from your lips, “You look very handsome”

He blinked at you. Then walked away.

If you had any lingering doubt in your mind that the man by your side was in fact, Kim Taehyung—they were utterly dismissed. His Kim colors were shining. Despite his typical cold nature to you, Taehyung was the embodiment of charm.

Stepping into the casino, he had been initially overwhelmed by the stimulus: the lights, the slot machining whirring with bright colors, the crowd. You could feel him visibly tense even though he remained an appropriate distance away from you at all times. Close enough that folks knew you’d come together. Far enough to show you that he hadn’t forgotten about what happened.

The first few people who’d approached you had been friends of his mothers. You knew everyone well, everyone knew you. Taehyung would be quiet, shy at first, but it was that very aspect of his personality that made him alluring. He knew exactly what to say. His observant nature allowed him to navigate the different dynamics, pick up on cues expertly.

The elders respected his aura. The young were entranced by his mystery.

Every person he talked to was ready to trust him with their life. And if that wasn’t a Kim trait, you weren’t sure what was.

The only hiccups would arise when folks would bring up the past.

“Aren’t you two getting engaged?” Mr. Lee, one of Kim Enterprises’ stakeholders, asked politely, “So tragic what happened to dear Seokjin. But have you rescheduled?”

With speedy hesitation, Taehyung slid a hand onto the small of your back, looking into your eyes. There was a genuine passing of emotion, ever so subtle. He spoke, to Mr. Lee, but really—to you.

“In time” He smiled slightly. Looking back to Mr. Lee, “We are still mourning, in our own way”

“I’m sure Jin would be so proud of you”

You felt Taehyung tense at the implication. He maintained his composure, nevertheless, but you could see the turmoil stirring within him. Mr. Lee excused himself, and you turned to Taehyung, searching his eyes.

The mere mention of Jin had been pushing him closer and closer to the edge all night.

“Tae” You sighed, caressing his arm. “Want to take a break?”

“Please” His response was curt, but you could see his other hand balled up in a fist. Jin’s name had such a radial effect on him—one that reminded you that despite his ability to play the social field, he was dangerous.

Taehyung followed you to the backrooms where a younger crowd was immersed in pool, poker, and other debauchery.

“They loved you”

Taehyung merely shrugged. “Play the man, not the game” His eyes ghosted over you, “You taught me that”

You snorted lightly, as you found a quieter spot away from the buzz, Taehyung leaned against a wall, looking at ease.

“Taehyung, do remember how to play pool?” You asked suddenly as the billiard table came into your vision.

Taehyung thought for a moment. “Not really. But I’ll learn”

“Winner makes a wish, loser fulfills it” You challenged him. You really couldn’t help yourself. Being in the casino made you crave risk. But Taehyung wasn’t ready for high stakes, you knew that.

“Fine”

You start off expertly. Taehyung handed you the pool cue, the smooth wood cool against your fingertips.

"Alright, let me show you the basics," you said, positioning yourself near the table with a practiced ease.

He watched intently, his eyes following the calculated movements of your hands as you lined up a shot.

You demonstrated the proper stance, the controlled grip, and the delicate finesse required to send a ball into the pocket. With each shot, you explained the strategy, the physics of the angles, and the importance of precision.

You hit the shot expertly. With a smirk, you put down the pool cue and motioned for Taehyung to take your place.

"Your turn, Tae."

He eyed you skeptically but took the cue, positioning himself for the shot. You stepped behind him, your hand gently guiding his.

You’d never been so close to him. Not since the day you reunited, and he hugged you. And asked: are you scared of me, Princess?

Ever since then, there were oceans between you that you could only dream of crossing. He smelled good, you couldn’t help breathing in his fresh aura. The dimly lit room seemed to fade away just for a moment, and you wondered if he was effected like you were.

"Now, focus," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, though you maintained a level of indifference in your tone.

Taehyung's breath hitched imperceptibly, but he composed himself, focusing on the game. With your guidance, he took the shot, sinking the ball into the pocket expertly.

"Perfect," you praised, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "See, you’re a natural yet again. A true Kim”

Taehyung turned to face you, his gaze intense. "Anything I am is because of you”

You stiffened. His words were both a compliment and an accusation. God, seeing this side of him made him even more terrifying, because you didn’t trust yourself not to buy into the fact that he was some pure, innocent version of his older brother. He wasn’t. Kim Taehyung was unhinged. Any second he could snap, and you were on eggshells.

“Your turn” He handed back the cue. A few shots later, the two of you were neck and neck. The ocean between you two drying up slowly with every exchange of banter.

“Done with love, huh?”

You circled him as he lined up his next shot.

“What exactly did the Detective do to make you say something like that?”

You pursed your lips. “Why, gonna go beat him up?”

With a flick of his shoulder, the ball went in. Taehyung stood straight. “Maybe. What’d he do?”

He leaned against the table, handing you the cue as you positioned yourself. “He lied. He betrayed me. And I’m tired of loving liars”

“Didn’t you also lie to him?” He challenged. You shot him a glare. “Why haven’t you told him everything?”

You hit your mark. You missed. Taehyung’s blatant honesty was always unnerving. He wasn’t one to play games. “It’s complicated. I didn’t trust him. I still don’t trust him”

“And you expected him to trust you” Taehyung shrugged blandly. He stole the cue from your hand and before you could blink, he snapped the final shot. “Seems fair”

Taehyung’s last ball went in.

He beat you.

“Well” Taehyung huffed, trying to hide his gleaming pleasure. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “I suppose that’s that” He looked at you expectantly.

“Okay Kim Taehyung, what wish can I grant you?” Cue in hand, you pretended to curtsy. Taehyung grabbed the end of the stick, using it to tug you towards him.

The space between you vanished. Only the cue between you, until Taehyung pulled it from your grip and set it aside.

There was something unrecognizable in his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.

“Well?” You looked up at him, suddenly aware of his height.

His fingers held your chin, tilting your face upward. Except his touch wasn’t harsh. Wasn’t painful.

Taehyung inhaled.

Your eyes widened as he closed his mouth over yours. His eyes shut—kissing you with a depraved delicateness. As if he was drinking your soul like he was the devil himself.

A touch so tender, and yet it seemed to steal away every last bit of purity within you, leaving behind a raging storm. Activating something so sinful—so wicked. All due to the decadent taste of his delicate lips.

He pushed your mouth open, deepening the kiss. And you—you were lost. Still utterly shocked that—Kim Taehyung was kissing you. The Kim Taehyung that wanted you dead. The Kim Taehyung who blamed you for everything—was actually kissing you.

It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. The two of you no longer had to get engaged, but you lived with the man. And he was gorgeous. His quiet, mesmerizing charm. Enigmatic, smoldering and yet so calm. Who knew beneath that cold demeanor there was a tsunami waiting to be unleashed? 

He didn’t give you an opportunity to question him. His lips felt too good on yours for you to care. The casino around you seemed to vortex—everything spinning: the colorful lights—until you were airborne.

Floating. Dizzy. Afraid to fall but so fucking glad you were in the sky.

His mouth coaxed out your fierceness until you began to feel impatient. You placed your hand on his pounding chest, a light push until he sat down on the bench. You slid into his lap, no longer thinking—no longer caring that you were in public. That there was a room full of people in the casino who could be staring. Taking pictures. Gossiping.

They were all dead for all you cared.

You gasped audibly, a soft moan as he pulled you impossibly closer. You were losing your breath. On the verge of fainting—overwhelmed with sensations. Everything was heightened—everything felt alive.

His hand was behind your neck, the other one on the small of your back. Both yours in his wavy black—cloud like hair.

He pulled away, finally—barely. Catching his breath. His chest rising as fast as yours, offset by his erratic heartbeat. He was nervous.

Was that his first kiss?

He swallowed, uncomfortably on edge. His eyes were dark with desire. An angry kind of lust.

You searched your mind for words. Something to tell him that he did so good. That you loved it—and you wanted more. He was searching your gaze for something, but you were speechless.

So you kissed him again. Because how the hell else are you supposed to communicate.

“Taehyung” Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. You shifted, letting your body roll against his. Grinding against him slow and sensual, letting your movements mimic those of your lips. He was hard—painstakingly so. And he felt so good tucked between your legs. Throbbing for you. Both his hands lowered to your hips, then back up your back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you—or maybe he couldn’t believe you were real.

His hold was strong—not rough. Touch intentional but not desperate. He took his time with you as if he had all the time in the world, but was still somehow starved. Drinking from you was his only salvation. You—you were his salvation. And he was your ruin.

He pushed you away, suddenly. You blinked, dizzy from the loss of touch. Sensitive and damp, heart throbbing fast. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Fuck”

You could see the judgmental stares all around. Rolling your jaw you smirked at the crowd.

“We own this place. I’d mind your business”

The chatter dissipated. You redirected your attention back onto Taehyung.

“Taehyung?” Your voice was soft. “You okay?”

You noticed how tightly he was gripping the table. His head down, looking anywhere but up at you. Eyes wide, spiraling in thought.

“I—” He exhaled, closing his eyes again.

Was he--?

You couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d despise you for it—but Kim Taehyung already despised you. You weren’t going to pass up a chance to feel him cum.

You shifted his chair so he was facing away from prying eyes. Carefully you snuck under the pool table, clawing at his pants.

His fingers pulled your hand away. A warning glare.

You yanked your hand away, unzipping his pants and letting his pretty cock spring free.

You clicked your tongue. Poor thing was ready to burst.

Licking your lips, you let your tongue glide from his base all the way up his length where you left a soft, sweet kiss on his tip. You slid his tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked.

Flattening your tongue, you let his cock rest there. Like a dog, you waited for him to cum all over you.

Then you looked up at him.

His eyes locked onto yours—and they were wild.

He hissed, shooting into your mouth. You drank up everything he had to give—and it was quite a bit. He bucked over, knuckles turning white. The bite into his lip released blood with how hard he was trying to stay quiet. You let him push his cock into the hollow of your cheek and spurts continued to flow out of him. You rested your hand on his knee, and his hand covered yours. Holding it tenderly—as if he were thanking you.

You cleaned him up quickly, before returning to your seat, adjusting your dress inconspicuously.

You grinned at him, but he was not amused at all. Still panting.

“Was that your wish?” You beamed at him. He chuckled softly.

“I just wanted to know what it felt like”

It was an innocent intention. Almost heartwarming.

“And, what do you think?” You leaned into him, “Did I rock your world, Kim Taehyung?”

“You are my world. There was never a doubt”

His eyes glossed over. You wanted to melt in his gaze. Unravel. Instead, you were plunged into cold water.

“Fancy seeing you two here”

The hairs on your body straightened. Chills seeping over you at the familiar voice, laced with betrayal.

“Jung Hoseok” He extended a hand to Taehyung, “Pleasure’s all mine baby boy” Taehyung skeptically shook it.

-

Hobi was extremely amused at what he had walked in on. Of course, a whore like you would take a matter of days to wrap the young Kim boy around your finger.

“Nice job leashing the puppy” He muttered, cigarette at the edge of his lips. The smoke wisping past your unamused expression.

“I should kill you” Hobi grinned at your response.

“No need,” He tapped the cigarette ash on the edge of the ash tray. He had brough you to his private booth. Leaving Taehyung for the wolves.

“What do you want, Hobi? I don’t want to leave Taehyung alone too long”

“Why?” He leaned closer to you. His hand resting on your bare thigh. Your dress was so fucking slutty, he loved it. He always loved the way you’d dress to gamble. As if your body gave you an edge—it did. He knew you crumbled rich playboy’s resolve with one bat of your pretty eyes. “Are you so desperate for dick you’d take your lover’s little brother’s virginity?”

You rolled your eyes. “I asked you a fucking question,”

“A birdy told me that you found out about Jin’s daddy”

You squinted at him. “What about it?”

“Don’t you want to know the whole story?” Hobi’s fingers hooked under the straps of your dress, playing with them. “Of the infamous Jeon family? And your mother—the woman who tore down a legacy”

His hand slid between your legs.

“Long long ago, the entire arms distribution business lay in the hands of one famous Korean gangster. Jeon Junghyun.”

He brushed against your clit. Gentle circles while he gazed into your eyes. A wicked grin. Like he could kiss you or stab you in the back.

You latched onto his arm as he lured you towards an orgasm. His face burying against your neck, breathing you in as he continued to touch you. Nothing except your soft whimpers in the air.

The heat from his body infected your every nerve. His breath scalding over your cheek.

“Then there was this clever little bitch” You inhaled sharply, edging forward towards your high. He could tell—because he pressed a little harder.

“Who manipulated her way to the top. Gained favor of everyone under him and took him out with a stab to the back” His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress. He pushed the fabric up until it bunched up above your breasts which he grabbed at eagerly.

Thumbs rolling over your nipples, he continued “She took everything from him, leaving him and his two sons to rot. But she wasn’t cruel. She let him stay as her right-hand”

Hobi left a soft kiss against your left breast. Then another. And another. His thumb back onto your clit, he licked and suckled you. You gasped—looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Curving into his touch.

“She grew the business. An arms distribution pipeline can be used for a lot of things. She went legit. Bought out other companies with the blood money. Began distributing just about everything.”

He licked your lips. The sensation like that of slowly sinking into absolute, soft bliss. Licking down your jaw, fluttering desperate hisses across your neck.

Then, he slipped one finger in—your face heating at the sound. You clenched around the protrusion and he reached deep inside. Working you slowly, carefully—before adding in another.

His kisses trailed back up to your mouth. His breaths were heavy, swallowing your moans. It was hauntingly intimate.

“Hobi” You pleaded, gripping onto him as you shook. Orgasm sweeping over you like an earthquake. Tremors from your heart to every finger and toe in your body. He was so wildly aroused that he couldn’t look away. His fingers were steady nevertheless, pumping you through it. “Fuck, Hobi please”

“Jeon Jungkook wants you dead sweetheart” The pain from his words pushed you over the edge. You soaked over his fingers, twitching wildly. “And so did his hyung. Kim Seokjin.”

-

The brisk night air bit at your skin as you seized Taehyung's wrist, pulling him outside. People were chattering, smoking cigars, the lights from the casinos madness still polluting the air. Limousines, sleek and imposing, formed a line ready to usher the remaining guests to their destinations.

Waving down a driver, you led Taehyung inside one. The plush leather seats cool against your exposed legs. The interior lit so you could see him in front of you, clear as day.

The light shut. Instead there were light sparkles on the ceiling of the limo as it began to move. The champagne swirled in your mind as you leaned back, looking out the window. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Like a rush, you wanted to lose yourself.

Your eyes shut for a moment. Remembering the way the light danced on your fac when you were with Jungkook that night at the club. Yearning for his touch, the look in his eyes when he told you how he felt.

You swallowed thickly, heart in too much pain to go down that road. You looked at Taehyung next to you, instinctively reaching out to touch his face. Gently, you took hold of his chin, coaxing his gaze to meet yours.

Your thumb traced over his cheek. Fingers dancing over his soft, delicate skin. His eyes fluttered close as you did. Teasing the edge of his lips ever so lightly. He really was a beautiful man. His lips looked soft. Devastating, with the way his shaken breath made them tremble.

He leaned into your touch, your fingers sliding up over his ear, pushing his hair out of his face. It felt like you were getting kicked in the chest repeatedly. Every part of you feeling numb but simultaneously sensitive to even the slightest movement of air.

He exhaled. The flow of his breath wavering. Or was it a moan, you weren’t sure.

You were about to pull your hand away, until Taehyung’s over fingers gripped your wrist. He stared at you, pupils wide. It was these moments where you felt like you could see him. His soft, vulnerable side, behind those concrete walls.

To your surprise, he brought your hand up to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

His lips softly melted into the sensitive area. Your breath hitched.

It was furiously intimate.

Holding your hand still, his eyes blinked back up at you. Almost as though he were asking permission.

Your throat was dry. The alcohol loosening the knots on your sense of logic.  

His eyes traced over you, dipping down your entire body. The way he sat, leaning so his knees almost touched yours. The leather suddenly felt so hot against your skin. Under his flaming stare.

He inhaled, steady, before leaning into you. Tracing his nose behind your ear. You shivered. His touch making you dizzy. Needy. Quivering.

“You looked beautiful tonight”

They were plain words.

When he said them, they meant the world. Something bloomed inside you. You were spinning and breathless, mouth parting in shock. His lips barely grazing under your jaw.

He backed away, putting distance between you yet again.

-

Namjoon stood in the foyer, waiting for you to come home. The moment the door swung open, you darted into his embrace. It felt like a familiar haven, and he effortlessly hoisted you up, cradling you in a desperate hug, afraid you might vanish if he let go.

"I missed you," Namjoon murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you. His gaze then shifted to Taehyung, pride in his voice. "You too. You look great, Taehyung. I heard you went to the casino."

Taehyung's response was measured. "Are you out on bail?"

"No," Namjoon replied with a hint of bitterness, "Yoongi blackmailed Jungkook into letting me go."

Your heart tightened at his name.

"Where is he? I want to see him”

“Absolutely not” Namjoon was firm. “We don’t know how dangerous he is. I have some of my guys looking into it with Yoongi. He sure as hell had been in contact with Jin in the weeks leading up to his murder”

Namjoon cupped your face. “But other than that, it’s over. He won’t contact you. You’re free. I don’t want you worrying about this anymore”

You wanted to laugh at the term. Free. Especially since Namjoon was already back to telling you what you could and couldn’t do.

“What about Nexus?”

Namjoon smiled, taking your hand in his. “Come with me,”

You followed him. Taehyung a few paces behind. Namjoon brought you into the garden. There were a million fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Taehyung, wondering if he remembered your tender moment in this same spot.

Namjoon lowered onto one knee.

Fuck. It was one of those moments where everything was so still. So quiet yet extremely loud in your chest. He smiled. Eyes meeting yours. Brimming.

“Marry me”

Your mouth was dry. The moisture building in your eyes instead. It hurt, deep inside because your mind took you to a certain tattooed, mean and yet tender man who you had left behind.

“Let me give you everything, Y/n” Namjoon continued, “The papers. The stocks. The business. You deserve it all and I will give it to you. I’ve done you wrong, and I know you aren’t where I am. I know you loved someone else”

His proposal hung in the luminous space. His words echoed in your ears. His gaze held both sincerity and vulnerability. He waited for your response, standing up so his fingers could brush against the side of your face. The fireflies flickered like stars behind him.

“I hope someday, it can be more than an arrangement. Someday you might love me the way I love you. But for now, I wanted you to have the option. I will give you everything, I promise”

Tears blurred your vision, and you took a steadying breath. "Namjoon," you whispered, your voice fragile yet resolute. Suddenly, with the prize standing in front of you, waiting for your claim, you realized how serious your answer was. If you married Namjoon, you were signing a deal with the devil. There would be no going back.

"I need time."

His eyes reflected understanding, and he stood, pulling you into a tender embrace. "Take all the time you need," he murmured against your hair.

You could still feel Taehyung watching the scene unfold. His expression unreadable, he retreated into the shadows.

Namjoon walked you to your bedroom, and you kissed him goodnight. He urged you not to stress. To take all the time and he’d be there, waiting when you were ready. No rush. This is what you’d wanted.

So why was it so hard to say yes?

Jungkook’s face engraved into your mind. Your gut flipping. You needed to find him. Needed to talk to him without Namjoon finding out. Your phone began to buzz. Hope coursed through you. Maybe it was him.

You answered quickly, excited.

“Don’t marry him”

There was no way.

“You’re mine”

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: its been a fucking MINUTE. idek how to do thia anymore, please enjoy and let me know what you think !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG omfg come scream with me pls thanks

and thank you for reading you hawtie <3

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 2024: 𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚

Pairing: Dom! Kim Seokjin x sub!fem reader

Word Count: 1.9 K

Content Includes: cuddlefucking, slight angst, bath tub sex, praise, clitoral play, unprotected sex (don't do it but it's a bath you know?), kissing, nipple play, reader is called 'princess', 18+

Jin experiences dom drop after a session and you try and get him out, little do you know taking care of you is exactly what he needs to do so.

You guide him into the warm bathroom, the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the walls. The gentle sound of water filling the tub is soothing, wrapping around you both like a soft embrace. Jin stands there, his broad shoulders tense and his usually confident demeanor waning as he watches the steam rise.

‘It’s okay, Jinnie’ you say softly, stepping closer to him. ‘You can relax. You’ve done so much for me tonight.’

He glances at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his usual commanding presence. You’ve seen this side of him before, after intense moments when he gives everything to you, only to feel vulnerable in the aftermath.

As the tub fills, you turn your attention to Jin, reaching out to cup his cheek. His skin is warm under your palm, and you can feel the tension there. ‘You’re allowed to feel this way, you know,’ you reassure him gently.

He chuckles lightly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I’m supposed to be the strong one,’ he murmurs, almost to himself. ‘I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.’

You shake your head, leaning in closer. ‘Jin, you give me everything. You’re more than enough for me. Let me take care of you now.’

He watches you, his dark eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. You guide him to sit on the edge of the tub, gently nudging him to relax. His muscular frame seems larger than life, yet in this moment, he appears almost delicate, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

Once the tub is full, you help him into the warm water, the steam enveloping him like a soft cloud. As he sinks into the soothing heat, you kneel beside him, the surface of the water glistening as the flickering candlelight dances across his skin. You pour a small amount of lavender-scented bath oil into the water, the calming aroma filling the air.

‘Close your eyes,’ you whisper, watching as he obeys. You take a moment to appreciate the way his long lashes flutter against his cheeks, how the tension slowly melts away from his features. You begin to gently wash his shoulders, your fingers gliding through the water, careful to soothe every tight muscle.

‘You deserve this, Jin,’ you say softly, massaging his back, feeling the knots gradually releasing under your touch. ‘You work so hard, and you always put me first. Now, let me be the one to take care of you.’

As your hands work their magic, he lets out a soft sigh, the sound low and content. You can see the weight of his worries start to lift, the lines of tension around his mouth easing as you continue to pamper him.

‘You always know what I need,’ he murmurs, a hint of awe lacing his voice. ‘It’s like you can see right through me.’

You smile at him, pleased. ‘I just know you, Jin. You give so much of yourself, and sometimes you need someone to remind you how amazing you are. You deserve to feel good, too.’

He opens his eyes, meeting your gaze, and you see a flicker of vulnerability mixed with admiration. ‘I can’t help but feel like I’ve let you down,’ he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Like I’m not enough for you.’

You pause, taken aback by his admission. The strength he usually exudes feels stripped away in this moment, leaving only the man who cares deeply, who feels responsible for your happiness.

‘You could never let me down, Jin,’ you assure him firmly, your hands stilling in the water. ‘You’ve given me everything I could ever want. You’re my rock, my safe place. I wouldn’t want anyone else but you.’

He studies your expression, searching for sincerity, and when he finds it, his shoulders relax a little more. You lean in, kissing his forehead gently, grounding him in your affection. ‘Let’s wash away the stress, okay? Just focus on us.’

He nods slowly, a hint of a smile gracing his lips as he sinks deeper into the water, allowing the warmth to envelop him. You pour some of the lavender bath oil onto your hands, rubbing it between your palms before continuing to massage his shoulders, letting the calming scent waft around you both.

You whisper praises as you work, telling him how strong he is, how hard he works, how much you admire him. Each word is a balm, soothing his insecurities, helping him shed the burden he carries. He closes his eyes again, leaning back against you, allowing you to take charge in this moment.

The intimacy of the bath surrounds you, a private cocoon where all the outside pressures fade away. You run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. The tension in his body continues to melt away, and you can feel the connection between you deepening.

‘You’re doing so well, Jinnie ’ you murmur, kissing the top of his head. ‘Just let it go. I’ve got you.’

After a while, you switch places, letting him lean back against the edge of the tub as you wash his feet, the warm water swirling around you both. You look up at him, catching the way his eyes are softening, the earlier tension giving way to a relaxed smile.

‘See? This is nice,’ you say, grinning up at him. ‘You deserve this, too. You deserve to feel cherished.’

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. ‘I didn’t think I’d be the one receiving aftercare tonight.’

You give him a playful look. ‘Well, we all need to be taken care of sometimes. You’re not just a dominant, you’re also someone who deserves love and tenderness.’

As you continue to pamper him, he seems to melt into the moment, allowing himself to be vulnerable. You can see the stress leave his features, replaced by a serene calm.

‘Thank you for this,’ he says, sincerity dripping from every word. ‘I didn’t realize how much I needed it.’

You smile, feeling your heart swell. ‘I’m always here for you, Jin. Whenever you need it, I’ll be here to remind you how incredible you are.’

The two of you linger in the bath, the atmosphere filled with soft laughter, gentle touches, and whispered confessions. You’ve helped him feel like himself again, and in turn, he’s reminded you of the beauty of trust and connection.

As the water begins to cool, you help him out of the tub, wrapping him in a soft towel. He looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and affection, and you know that despite the moments of doubt, he understands just how much he means to you.

‘Let’s get you cosy,’ you say, leading him back to the tub, which you refill with warm water. He settles in, leaning back against the edge, and you can’t help but admire him, the way the water glistens against his skin, accentuating his features.

You climb in front of him, letting your body mold against his. The warmth surrounds you both, and he relaxes into you, the earlier tension dissipating completely.

With gentle hands, he starts to caress your arms, tracing patterns against your skin. ‘You know I love being here with you,’ you whisper, gazing up at him with fond eyes.

You turn your head slightly, catching your gaze, and you see a spark of mischief ignited in his eyes. ‘What if I want to take care of you now, princess?’ His voice is low, teasing, and you can feel the playful challenge hanging in the air.

You smirk, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. ‘I’d like to see you try.’

Jin chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through both your bodies, and he shifts slightly, positioning you both just right. With a gentle nudge, he guides you to lean back against him, his warmth enveloping you like a protective shield.

As he starts to kiss your neck, you let out a soft sigh, melting against him. His hands gently move to cup your breasts, twisting and playing with your nipples gently before trailing them down your naval, a soft moan being heard as he trails them through your folds, leaving nimble circles upon your clit.

‘You feel so good, princess,’ he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. ‘Let me show you just how much I adore you.’

You hear the water splash as he shifts behind you, firm hands grabbing your hips as he lifts them up slightly, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

'Will you let me in princess? Give you the pleasure you deserve? That you're worthy of?' His words are quickly sending shivers in your body and you nod quickly, fervently...it almost felt like a necessity that you had to have Jin's cock in you right now.

You gasped into Jin's mouth as he entered you, the position allowing him to hit deep as the water enhanced the sensation, leaving goosebumps over your skin as you clung onto Jin's arms that were wrapped around you for support.

'Feel so good...tight...warm...perfect' Jin hissed in pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you, his kisses felt upon your shoulder as he began to grind, more like pushing more of him into you, rather than pushing out then back in.

His kisses, his hands on your breasts, the soft whispers of praise and the heat of the water on your skin was enlightening. Every touch sends electric sensations coursing through your body, and you find yourself lost in a world of pleasure.

The steam from the bath wraps around you both, making everything feel even more intimate, and you can’t help but give in to the waves of ecstasy he creates. You're going to reach your peak and soon with how perfectly aimed Jin's grinding was against your g-spot.

Jin’s hands are everywhere, exploring and coaxing you into blissful submission. He’s behind you, guiding you, and as you lean back into him, you can feel his heart racing with every movement. You’re a perfect fit, the two of you merging into one in this moment of raw connection.

'I'm close Jin' You whined out, grabbing one of his hands and gently trailing it towards your clit 'I need your help, I need you'.

You can't see it but you can feel Jin's eyes on you, you could feel his love, his care and appreciation as he cuddlefucks you like this, the stimulation on your clit alone and Jin's words and presence was enough to send you over the edge.

‘That’s it,’ he praises, his voice low and smooth. ‘Just like that, princess. Let go for me.’

His words push you closer to the edge, and you feel yourself unraveling in his arms. Every kiss, every touch ignites something deep within you, and with a final gasp, you release, waves of pleasure crashing over you, a loud whimper reverberating across the tiles as you cum all over Jin's cock and fingers, with Jin reaching his peak moments later.

You were both panting and gasping from the endorphin high, your mind feeling floaty as you felt Jin card his hands through your hair, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

'You're my princess and you deserve to be taken care of and treated as one'

Thank you @anyamaris for the request and this is my first time writing for Jin from BTS, he is one of my bias so it was sweet.

I have a feeling this Kinktober is going to extend into November for my pieces but every slot I've been assigned will be written rain, hail or shine...I promise you!

Thank you to everyone who have submitted their fics for this month so far and it's been a pleasure reading everyone's.

Taglist: @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @sugarnspice360 @mykryptonitelight @scuzmunkie @umbralhelfwolf @stardragongalaxy @lino-jagiyaa @mrcarrots @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo

[devotedfem]

∞ Angel

Synopsis: You always felt protected by your sweet guardian Angel, the issue was, that Seokjin wasn't as pure as you think. Not when you made him fall from grace.

K. Seokjin x f. reader

Genre: guardian angel au | yander-ish

Tags: angel Seokjin, overprotectiveness, sassy Seokjin, captivity, fluff if you squint, yander-ish, angel turning demon.

Patreon for extra content

From the series; otherworldly.

Navigation Masterlist.

The first time you saw him you were 7. You opened your tired sleepy eyes and watch Seokjin with curiosity, getting out of your bed to walk towards him, he widened his eyes with shock at your little steps coming to him near the window.

“Why do you always follow me, mister?” You frowned and pouted your lips, crossing your arms.

“You can see me?” He stared down at you with lifted brows. This shouldn’t happen.

You hummed nodding, smiling big at him, and inviting him to your room to play with you until you fell asleep.

Back then you were so smart, you noticed you were the only one that could watch him. So it became your little secret, because who would believe you if you say you can see your guardian angel and talk to him. You don’t want to look crazy so you never tell anyone.

You only talk back to Seokjin when you two are alone.

And years passed, he became literally your best friend. You grow fond of Seokjin, of his dramas, his sassiness and his protectiveness towards you. Always looking over you like a hawk, not letting anything hurt you. And you knew that guardian angels do that, but sometimes it feels that Seokjin is being a little bit extreme.

“Seokjin come on, it’s just a college party. Stop being so dramatic,” you said rolling your eyes.

You never go to parties because of him, at first you obey Seokjin when he said that there’s a lot of dangers out there, but then you got tired of his attempts of overprotecting you.

You’re an adult now, you should go out and see the world. It was Seokjin’s job to not let anything happen to you anyway. Also, you weren’t stupid, you know what’s dangerous and what it’s not.

“Excuse me,” he gasped offended, floating towards you, “you’re not going to that party, missy. You don’t know how dangerous those parties are, there are a lot of bad things that could happen to you. So don’t be ungrateful when I’m trying to protect you,” he said in a low warning, standing in front of you and staring down at you with his darkening gaze.

You gulped feeling overwhelmed, he sometimes doesn’t act like an angel at all.

“Oh my god! Let me live my life! If something bad happen to me so it be, let me experience those things like normal people do. You have nothing to worry about, please!” you shouted, running your hands through your hair in exasperation.

Seokjin pressed his lips together into a thin line. His blank gaze woke chills on you. You never saw him this serious before.

“You are mine to protect, whether you like it or not. And if I say you won’t go to that party, you won’t,” he growled close your face, gripping your shoulders and making you flinch with genuine worry and fear.

Who does he think he is?

You wiggle away from his grip, with flames of fury rising to your chest.

“I’ll go,” you challenged him with your chin up, turning around towards your door ready to go to that party.

And suddenly, the temperature of the room dropped, freezing you.

Seokjin turned you around roughly, and your lips parted with surprise at the sight of him dropping to the floor for the first time. His feets touching the floor, and his tall frame towered over you.

You watch with deep horror how his wings turned pitch black. You tremble with fear, trying to step back from him but he didn’t let you, he snarled and gripped you near his chest. You watched how his big black wings wrapped you two, darkening your world.

You whimpered with fear, clinging to Seokjin’s body because even though he’s the cause of your fear, he’s your safe place. The one you run to when you’re scared.

He shushed you sweetly, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me to a place where nothing will ever hurt you.” He promised against your ear, his voice sounding darker than before.

And he did take you down with him. Down, down and down. A place where you can’t see anything but him.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison

[lostberet]

˚ ༘ ♡ ⋆.˚ WORLDTOUR teaser | ot7 (m)

𐙚 synopsis: The year 2026 has arrived, and instead of returning to their loving jobs as Idols, Bangtan is stuck serving South Korea after a mysterious outbreak. However, what these two jobs have in common is their World Tour.

༘⋆ genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , romance , violence, suspense , smut ; military au , idol au? ,

༘⋆ disclaimer: Violence, Gore, Graphic Violence, Use of Weapons, Mention of death, eventual smut, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

༘⋆ a/note: ANOTHER SERIES, hello my jelly fishies, this is a series that will be broken up into a mini-series for each member, please let me know who's tour you'd like to read first!

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 7:35 pm

“I apologize, but there is not enough space for you and your crew at this moment, captain.” There was commotion, each service worker going into their own phone calls answering, some sobbing and others yelling in frustration, “Please stay safe, I will send a boat whenever there is one available.” 

Yoongi removed the head-phone caller from his head, taking in a deep breath as he stared at the large screen before him. A world map showing multiple red dots of the Korean Military’s location, and some of them were his friends. 

“They’ll be fine.” A familiar voice said beside him, Yoongi turned his head, meeting NamJoon’s. Yoongi only remained silent and Namjoon took his silence as a rejection, “SeokJin wants to have dinner together.”

Namjoon tired again, trying to bring his older brother back from his dark thoughts, “I can’t stomach anything right now.” Namjoon nodded, a faint smile on his face as he patted Yoongi’s back, “I know.. But whole they’re out there━ surviving━ so are we back here.” 

Japan, Tokyo               time: 7:37 pm 

“Hyung!” Hoseok turned from his still-position, his vision blurry from the heavy rain, “yeah?”  Squinting, he was able to make up one of his members, “Hyung, time for dinner, chief also has some information regarding international news,” Jimin’s voice was calm, his body turning to look out into the city. The rain filled the silence between them. Hoseok only swallowed, he was worried, nervous━ yet, what he was feeling was nothing compared to what Jimin felt. 

Jimin will be able to know more about the two younger ones. The two who were selected to actually fly across the world in where they had absolutely no contact. Hoseok held onto Jimin’s shoulder, “I’m sure everything is fine!” Hoseok chirped, a bright smile on his lips. Jimin only gave a small smile back. He was just thankful that among all this chaos, he had a brother with him.

United States of America, Texas - San Antonio      4:30 am

“We gotta get moving, let’s go soldiers!” an American soldier commanded as he waved the small group into a building, shutting the door behind him. 

The American soldier removed his helmet, turning to another American soldier, “when is the plane arriving?” The American took a while to respond as he checked his watch, “In about 5 minutes, captain.” 

The American Captain nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked at his small team, his eyes landing on the two foreigners, “Ya hear that, you two?” The Captain bit back a grin, “you motherfuckers are going back home.” 

Jungkook leaned against the concrete wall, panting from running a few miles, a toothy smile visible as he heard the Captain’s words. He looked over at Taehyung, who smiled at the thought of going back to Korea. 

“We’ll have to go down to Mexico, from there, the flight will be directly towards Jeju Island.” The American soldier informed the crew, earning nods in response. 

The clock had struck 4:35 am, and the door’s of the safe house were opened once more, the American Captain commanding his troops to run towards the plane location━ 1 mile away. 

Taehyung jogged behind the Captain and one other American soldier, Jungkook was right behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the dark morning. Taehyung wasn’t tired, he’d trained to the point that running miles didn’t make his heart pump to the point of fainting. So, why was his heart pumping so fast? 

It became so loud to the point that he only heard his heartbeat against his chest━ it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was right, his whole body felt it, but he kept moving forward. He’ll be on the plane home no less than a mile away. 

“Get down!” Before Jungkook could process the foreign warning, a building on his far left exploited━ sending building pieces flying towards their direction and with it, the familiar grunts and screams of death. “Everyone run!” 

It took a second for Jungkook’s body to react before he started springing to the desired location. His eyes focused on Taehyung’s back. As the group got closer to the military base, sounds of gun-shots started taking over the grunts and screams. Startled by the sudden fire, Jungkook dropped to his knees, covering his ears━ a bad reflex response his body had come up. However, his arm was being pulled by one of the American Soldiers, “Get up━we’re almost there!” 

Almost being dragged by the American, Jungkook stumbled upon his feet, running alongside them. His reaction had cost him some time. Upon entering the gate to the military airport, he witnessed Taehyung entering the plane, along with 2 others. 

20 feet more and Jungkook will also be in that plane. 19 more feet and Jungkook was tackled down on the floor, the sound of fire getting louder and louder━ but Taehyung’s call was the only thing Jungkook could hear. 

And as the door of the plane closed and the plane rose from the ground up to the air━ the last image of Taehyung Jungkook will never forget was how he still reached for him.  And the last image of Jungkook Taehyung got to witness was how he was being dragged off the ground by the American Captain, his gun firing at the dead. 

It was 4: 50am when Taehyung threw his helmet against the metal floor of the plane, pacing around, his body trembling as he tried wrapping his head over what had just happened. He wasn’t going back home without Jungkook.

It was 6:00 am when Taehyung had come up with a plan to return to America and find Jungkook. It was also the time the plane began to share the same trembling as Taehyung’s body. It was 6:15 am when Kim Taehyung’s plane crashed into Mexico, Monterrey. 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:05 pm

The small lobby held a few soldiers, it only held the ones who had loved ones internationally━ So, SeokJin, Yoongi and NamJoon found themselves in that same room, awaiting their turn to receive their news. 

“Jun-ha,” The Captain called out, “Your sister is doing just fine in Thailand. The Thailand Military will bring her home, she’ll take a plane back to Korea in about a day.” The sound of sobs echoed in the room, 

It was 8:15 when the group was dismissed, bringing panic and confusion among the oldest Bangtan members, “Captain, what about our boys?” SeokJin called out, earning a few looks from the leaving soldiers, “Hoseok and Jimin are just fine in Japan.” 

“We know they’re fine, we’re talking about Taehyung and Jungkook.” NamJoon butt-in, his eyes dancing across the Captain’s face, trying to find any sense of emotion. The Captain only licked his lips, avoiding eye contact, “about that..” 

“I swear to god, if something happened to them━” Yoongi stepped in, panic running through his veins before the Captain spoke, “They are fine. Separated but fine.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Japan, Tokyo               time: 8:10 pm 

“Okay.. Taehyung is on his way..” Jimin muttered, his leg bouncing as he tried to calm his nerves, “What about Jungkook?” Hoseok looked between the Captain and Jimin, “Jungkook will take his plane from Miami, we’re not sure when, but he’s safe.” 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:13 pm

“Thank God..” Seokjin sighed, his head falling into his arms, relief falling into his body. His boys were coming home. Not together, but soon. 

Japan, Tokyo | South Korea, Jeju Island              time: 8:30 pm

Jimin and Hoseok stood on top of the military base, guarding and scanning the area. It was their turn to stand guard for the night. Jimin felt drained, his eyes only focusing on the far distance of the safe house. His thoughts eating him away. 

“Park, Jung, you two copy?” The Captain’s voice echoed through their radio, Jimin slightly turned his head towards Hoseok. Hoseok grabbed his radio, “Yes, Captain, over.”

“Come to the lobby.” 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:33 pm

“You told us they were fine!” Yoongi yelled, his eyes burning with tears, “The plane fell near a safe base, I’m sure if━” 

“Sure of what?! Do you even know if Taehyung is alive?” Yoongi cut the Captain off, SeokJin bringing Yoongi to sit back down on the chair, “Yoongi’s right.. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.. But.. we want to know if Taehyung survived..” 

United States of America - Dallas, Texas          6:36am

“What..” Jungkook’s voice came out faint, almost a whisper as the color of his face drained, “We’re sending the Mexican safe house near the accident to check the place.. In the meantime, you will head to Miami for your flight.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until I know about Taehyung.” Jungkook said, the American Captain only sighed, “You’ll know, but you need to get to Miami, go back home.” 

Mexico, Monterrey         10:25 am

Taehyung coughed, his eyes opening as he scanned the area, the beaming sun burning his face. The air was very hot against his face, and with a grunt, he pulled himself from the ground. The moment he stood on his feet, he felt the pain run through his spine, he hissed and crunched down. 

“Fuck..” he muttered, his hands running through his body. He hadn’t broken a bone, thank god for that, but his thigh was bleeding, a deep cut, too. He looked around, but there wasn’t much he could do. Just walk it out. 

12:09 pm

Taehyung reached a point where his leg couldn’t keep up, causing him to stop near a small town. Silence welcomed him, no life in sight, and he didn’t mind. His uniform was becoming unbearable, and his thigh was hurting too much. 

He stumbled upon a small store, entering and blocking the entrance behind him. And just like that, Taehyung found a small place that kept him safe for the day. When Night time fell, the heat of Mexico kept him warm, but his thigh still ached. He couldn’t find anything to fix it, he’ll have luck next time. 

That was if he wasn’t found first. 

2024 © LOSTBERET, all rights reserved. please do not copy, plagiarize, translate, repost, or steal my work.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian II

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: heheheheheee

Masterlist, Part II of __

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as you run past him in a hurry with your white coat hanging on your arm and the sound of your heels hitting the floor before completely skidding to a stop. It was already late in the evening and you still had energy to run in the hospital lobby. Seokjin was starting to wonder what you were fed as a child to be this vibrant. Additionally, though, he was now starting to think what he fed Jungkook as a child for him to be as energetic as you.

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I run again?” you asked with a teasing smile on your face, your breaths huffing. You saw the most handsome man walked confidently across the lobby, his hand clutching his briefcase and you knew he was done for the day. That was the moment you ran from the second floor to the ground floor just to annoy your crush. You were too busy today with your patients and papers that you had no time to go to his office and bat your eyelashes at him.

It was entertaining to watch his cheeks and ears reddened whenever he saw you doing that, or whenever you verbally appreciated his beauty. You thought he was embarrassed for you and you found it immensely charming. In fact, flirting with him was the highlight of your day and you always made sure to see him on a daily basis which you noted was difficult.

Sometimes, Kim Seokjin was nowhere to be found for days. You wondered where he went whenever he disappeared. On days after he was gone, he seemed to be more tolerant of your teasing quips. On days after he returned, you could have sworn he looked at you a little bit fondly for a second and then it was gone.

“This is not the first time I saw you, Doctor Y/N,” he replied calmly, his hand in his pocket as he rested his eyes on yours.

“Yes, but I’m running out of pickup lines to use. I still need conduct further research,” you tilted your head to the side as you looked up at the tall man. “When are you even going to ask me out, Doctor Kim?”

“W-what?”

“I mean, you better hurry up or else someone might snatch me up. My mother did say that I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and I am known for being a good girl and believing every word my mother said.”

His brows furrowed at the thought of someone snatching you away from his grasp. But, you weren’t his, right? He had no hold over you, right? So why did that leave a sour taste on his mouth? Why then did he fist his hands so tight he almost felt pain knowing that he had long couldn’t?

You had no idea of the darkness that was clouding his mind and instead, you smiled sweetly at him before waving him goodbye, satisfied that you once again managed to render the smartest man in this hospital speechless and blushing profusely. That was an achievement, you giggled.

But then you turned to look at him again, your hand touching your lips and then dramatically pointing it to him. That was all it took to get him out of the darkness that was caging him once again. The mafia prince didn’t know what to make of the power you had over his darkness, a darkness that he spent a good decade reigning in.

You tapped your knuckles against his office door twice before opening the door. Kim Seokjin was the image of focus as he stared intensely at his laptop, his brows slightly furrowed with his glasses resting on his aristocrat nose. He looked up when he heard the sound of several tupperwares hitting his table.

“Eomeoni said that she courted appa by cooking and bringing him meals everyday in his office,” you started conversationally as you opened the lids. Seokjin was helpless as soon as the aromatic smell reached him that his own stomach decided to betray him and communicate how empty it was.

He coughed to cover his embarrassment, “Your mother courted your father?”

“Yes. Her method was effective, though,” you grinned at him as you placed the chopsticks in front of him. You sat in front of him before starting to eat. “She also did say to follow my dreams, so here I am.”

You met his eyes before winking at him. Seokjin’s face radiated with a warm, pinkish blush which happened to be a true testament to his extremely flustered state that only you could bring out of him. And you staring at him like that was not helping him at all.

His hands shook as his mind went to the default setting: to push you away.

“I have patients coming in…”

You blinked owlishly at him before looking down at your wristwatch. “It’s 5:47 am. Check-ups starts at 7:00 am. We have time.”

“I-I don’t eat.”

The silence was loud as you processed what he just said, and you knew what an ‘I don’t want to spend time with you’ looked like. You nodded your head before standing up. “Okay.”

You stopped yourself from showing your disappointment. You brought your chopsticks down before wordlessly closing the lids on the meals your prepared at an ungodly hour. You returned them all in the paper bag before bowing at him and leaving. He watched it all as you refused to meet his eyes for the first time since you met him.

He groaned when you closed the door, and he was once again left with the silence he was used to. He rested his head on his hands in frustration. What was wrong with him, he thought. He didn’t eat? What was he, a fucking vampire? Yes, he had a clear and fair skin, and yes, he looked like he was not aging. And of course, his beauty was out of this world. But he was just beautiful! What could he do? Should he blame his mother that used to be a top model for his good genes?

Or should he blame his already system that was already beyond repair even before you came into his life?  

Kim Seokjin eyes kept on shifting to the door and then back to his screen for a moment. However, it was as though he was powerless from looking back to the door again. The presentation that they deemed to be important was merely a white noise to him, even as the doctors kept on looking at him for approval. They found none as his face remained impassive.

He looked down on his phone, and even your usual good morning was not there and he loathed it. Granted that he never replied, but he still kept the messages. It brought him something akin to warmth in his chest when he received your messages on his phone. Reading your adorable messages was the highlight of his morning. But now, his phone was unusually quiet and you were nowhere to be found. It displaced him. It vexed him. And it confused him. Seokjin glared at the emptiness of your chair with such disgust and irritation that the presenter gulped from the darkness that crossed his face. They all wanted to please him, not only was he in the highest position but he was also the major stockholder of the hospital.

Suffice to say, Kim Seokjin was the most powerful man in the hospital. Unbeknownst to them though, his power spread beyond the corners of the hospital and into the darkness of the world.

“Director Kim?” the presenter he didn’t care to remember the name called for his attention. Leisurely, he brought his eyes from his phone to the sweating man. He didn’t even care to hide the fact that he was more focused on the phone than the presentation. He read all about it and he was not pleased one bit.

“I believe you graduated at the top of your class, Doctor Choi, am I correct?” he regarded him with an unimpressed look. He waved his hand before the man could even respond. He didn’t need his affirmation. “Did your school have an extremely low population? Did they have-“ he tilted his head to come up with a better word than what he was thinking. “-subpar qualifications? Was bribery involved?”

He met each and everyone’s eyes before standing up slowly in heavy disappointment. “Fix this. Or I’ll personally call all the organizations that awarded this hospital as the best and tell them that they made a terribly, colossal blunder and have them take all the certifications away.”

—-

“Hyuuuuung, why are you even doing here?” Jungkook, their youngest brother, whined as he watched his oldest hyung laid out on his office sofa. He had his phone up, glaring at it as though it personally did him wrong.

“Hanging out with you,” he murmured before throwing his phone away. He pulled his arm on his face and started groaning.

Jungkook wanted to smash his head against his table littered with thousands of documents he needed to go into- which he couldn’t do because his hyung just wouldn’t leave him in peace!

“You’re distracting me!”

“Tough luck. I need to be around someone who’s as lonely as I am.”

“Then go to the others! Why me?! Why not Namjoon hyung?!”

“He’s not lonely. He has his secretary,” Jin softly explained before putting down his arm and turning to look at Jungkook. “Besides, no one is as lonelier as you. Your wife is out there running from you.”

“No, she’s not! She’s just lost! What about Taehyung? Go to him!” he huffed as he was reminded yet again that his wife left him. His brows were now in a pinched as he pouted at his hyung.

Jin waved his suggestion away before closing his eyes. “Tae Tae does not feel any emotion, Kookie. He doesn’t even know he’s lonely because he is a high-functioning pain in the ass psychopath that needs to be put down as soon as pos-“

His slander on Taehyung was cut short as the sound of his phone alerting him of a message from the floor chimed. Jungkook watched his hyung scrambled on the floor to where he threw his phone both in confusion and disgust. He never saw his hyung behaved this way when he was the one who always insisted in proprietary and manners because they as he said, they might be cold-blooded criminals but they were not barbarians.

You were back, he read as the personnel from the Human Resources department he bribed messaged him. Apparently, you were on a week-long leave that required him suffering because you weren’t in his vicinity. Yet again, he had no time to dissect his feelings…

He just needed to see you.

It felt like everything was displaced when you were gone, yet at the same time it was how he was living before you came into his life and painted his world with colors he didn’t know existed. That was the thing, you came and changed his world. He didn’t know how to go back to his colorless world now.

“Okay, bye.”

Jungkook watched dumbfoundedly as his hyung ran out of his office.

Part III

[pt2change]

human anatomy — kim seokjin

[gif source]

paring: model!seokjin x artist!y/n

genre: university au, does it count if only one is in uni, fluff, rich boy seokjin is here if you squint, typical “i bumped into you and spilled my coffee” first meeting, did i mention jin is actually a naked model

word count: 1,790

↣ bts masterlist

a/n: happy jinhomecoming!!! here’s my first jin drabble to celebrate <3

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

you had a coffee in one hand and your sketchpad in the other as you tried to navigate your way through campus and the multiple other students.

you’re usually on time to your classes, but you accidentally overslept last night. even though you’re late, you’re also not rushing because your professor will just call you out in front of everyone!

(you really hope she won’t today)

(you can’t blame her, not really, especially when this is not the first time you show up late to class)

you reach the art building 10 minutes after the initial start of your class time and of course, it’s no surprise that your student id struggles to get read by the machine that unlocks the door.

soon enough, you’re able enter the building, speed walking your way towards the classroom.

your phone pings, reading a message jimin: where are you?, you move your fingers quickly across the screen explaining the events of this morning.

when you turn a corner suddenly, you collide with someone, and your coffee falls from your hands. it feels like it all happens in slow motion just like in the movies; the lid pops off and the coffee just goes absolutely everywhere .

“shit,” you mutter softly before speaking up, “i am so so sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what to do. it would probably be better if the ground just opened up and swallowed you whole.

you turn up to look at the person you collided with. this guy was gorgeous. like really gorgeous. his skin was golden and smooth looking, he had plump lips, and he was tall with dark hair, a few strands of hair fell over his face as he looked at you.

you can only assume he’s new to the campus, because you would’ve definitely noticed him around

you cleared your throat, “hmm, that was my breakfast.” you look back down to see the coffee has landed on this guy’s all white shoes.

the tall man chuckles, “and this seems to be my new shoe polish.” you bring your hand up to your mouth in embarrassment, “i’m really sorry. i didn’t even-“

before you can finish he cuts you off, “don’t worry, i can just get another pair. i do think i’ll have to owe you another one” he says referring to the spilled coffee cup.

you blink up at him, “is that a way of asking me to get coffee with you?”

the guy shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “depends on how you take it, i’m seokjin”

seokjin holds out his hand, and you shake your head slowly as you grab his hand, “y/n”

you smirk slightly, “and you said you owe me one, meaning you get it for me, not with me”

his hand holds onto yours a bit longer, “come on, are you so busy you can’t get one coffee with me, just one day?”

you imagine how you must look in front of him, your hair is a bit messy from sleeping through your alarm, eye bags from the constant late nights, and you’re wearing basic jeans and an oversized shirt you wear when you know you have to sit and just draw in class that day.

you cross your arms “no, i’m turning corners at the speed of light for fun and not because i’m overwhelmed with the amount of assignments i have to get completed.”

seokjin looks down at you with a cocky smirk, “so you’re admitting that this was your fault?”

you purse your lips together, “you know what? you’re 6ft body should’ve been watching where you’re going!” you breathe deeply, “also you’re making me late to class!”

you grab the strap of your bag and adjust it to a comfortable feel. and he speaks up again, “so you’ll let me make it up to you? for the coffee?”

you chuckle, “you just don’t know when to quit, huh?”

he does that stupid cocky smirk again, “no, not really.”

you remove your bag from your shoulder, digging in the pockets for a pen and piece of paper. you smile as you pull out a sticky note and quickly write down your number, you hand it to seokjin and he fiddles it between his fingers

“i’ll text you so i can owe you that coffee, y/n”

you feel your cheeks heat as you nod, “bye seokjin”

you turn around and continue towards your classroom, and you swear you could feel his eyes watching you until you turned another corner

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you shortly make it to your classroom, quietly opening the door to see wooden stands and chairs aligned in a half-circle.

your eyes scan the room frantically before landing eyes on your best friend, jimin, who waves at you to quickly get in while your professor has her back to the door.

you make it to your seat before she faces the classroom, “we have 3 full hours today, so i highly suggest you use your time wisely!”

she makes her way around the lineup of chairs, widening her eyes at some of the students.

“i expect each and everyone of you to apply the techniques we have learned so far to this project,” she clears her throat, “and as you all know, we will have a nude live model this week, so please make him feel comfortable and welcomed.”

you place your sketchpad on the stand, and open to a page, then you reach into your bag to get out some essentials, and you hear the door creak open and footsteps echo the room.

you hear your classmates clap for the model as you place your things on the edge of the stand. your relatively large sketchpad blocks you from seeing the model, but you know he’s made his way to the small platform that has a chair for the model to sit or stand in different positions.

your professor speaks up, “i’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“it’s seokjin.”

your eyes widened at the model’s response. there was no way this was the same seokjin that you had bumped into and spilled coffee all over his shoes and who you gave your number to…

and now you were going to be drawing and detailing his naked body.

you peak your head to the side, and there he is, in nothing but a white robe.

“seokjin, we’re ready whenever you are” your professor says, nodding and starts making her way to the back of the class.

your professor stops in front of you, “you need a better view y/n” she whispers, moving your stand a little to the right.

“oh, thank you” you smile at her, and now all you can think is how he’s most likely going to notice you.

you’re not sure what’s worse; him seeing you before or after he takes his robe off.

seokjin stretches a bit, cracking his knuckles and turning his head from side to side and you grab your pencil, flicking it on your thigh.

seokjin grabs the tie around his waist and just before he pulls it to loosen it, his eyes meet yours.

his eyes widened slightly and his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

seokjin looks down and chuckles to himself, shaking his head slightly. but he takes a deep breath and pulls the robe tie loose letting it fall on the platform,

seokjin gets on the platform and sits on the chair, crossing his arms and he bends one leg and sticks the other one straight out, his head is facing the right side of the classroom.

“okay, class, let’s begin!” your professor chirps from the back of the classroom and displays a timer on the projector.

you grab your pencil and begin to start outlining his proportions. you take a good look at seokjin, he’s got broad shoulders and defined abs, you also take notice in the small tattoo on the side of his waist. you also can’t help but notice the tint of pink still on his face.

there’s a big window that lets in natural sunlight so you focus on how the sun casts shadows on his nose and eyebrows and the way the light emphasizes his biceps and shoulders.

you managed to get a rough sketch down, and you tried your best to get the shape done right, erasing and re-sketching the lines and shapes that didn’t look the best.

it wasn’t long until seokjin stretched again, he stretched out his arms and slowly moved his head, his eyes searched the room until they found yours again.

his eyes stayed focused on you as he got back into position, and all you could do was smile shyly before returning your attention to the canvas.

you knew seokjin was watching you, you could feel his eyes on you as you kept sketching him.

and the next time you looked over at him, he chuckles, almost as if he wanted to laugh. you’re not sure why, but now you start to blush.

you knew you were gonna have to start sketching the rest of his body, his naked body, but just how were you gonna do it when his eyes are on you?

you take a deep breath, moving past his stomach and you begin sketching out his lower body, starting with his hips.

you could feel your cheeks heating up, and god, you hope seokjin isn’t too weirded out by this whole situation and decides to never speak to you again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the 3 hours seem to have gone fairly quickly, and while your professor dismissed the class, seokjin grabs the robe and puts it back on. your eyes follow as he makes his way back to a little room where he can change.

you knew jimin had to head to work early today so you say goodbye and watch as he walks out of the class with majority of the students

you take your time putting your materials away, in hopes of seeing seokjin before you leave campus.

you grab your bag, and place it on your shoulder and you see seokjin coming out in his regular clothes with an embarrassed smile.

you cross your arms, “so you’re a naked model huh?”

seokjin laughs, “you think i go around telling everyone i find beautiful that i do naked modeling for college students?”

you shrug your shoulders, “so you think i’m beautiful?”

seokjin puts his hands up in defense, “you know i usually take someone out before i let them see me naked”

“well, you do still owe me that coffee, and this was my last class of the day.” you raised your eyebrows at him, seokjin just chuckles before nodding his head, and you both makes your way out of the art building

[hamsterclaw]

Desecrate

A fall from grace causes you to stumble into the hands of a demon prince. Inspired by Lilith.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mention of murder, non-explicit attempted assault, angels and demons

Min Yoongi is older than most creatures to walk this Earth, this much he knows. It’s been years since he last felt that any of the petty skirmishes mortals involve themselves in was worth any of his interest or his time. 

Even though time, for him, stretches out, almost infinitely. 

He doesn’t know your face at all, but you catch his attention, and hold it. He can sense your mortality slipping through your fragile grasp as you grapple with the men holding you down. 

You’re not going to win, though he admires your grit. 

Yoongi’s no stranger to blood but he has no desire to watch you get used and torn to shreds. He’s moving on when your eyes meet his. 

You plead with him wordlessly, desperately, as the light dims in your eyes. 

Yoongi knows that this is a dangerous time, the twilight between living and dying. You’re straddling both worlds, dying even as you push uselessly at the hands around your neck. 

It would be facetious to say that Yoongi kills without a shred of remorse. It’s more truthful to say that he kills without a thought. 

He’s standing amidst the mess he made, you at his feet, your face pressed to the ground. 

You’re unconscious, but you’ll live, unlike the men Yoongi dispatched on your behalf. 

There’s something unbearable to him about the way the lovely line of your cheek is touching the dirt of this human dumping ground. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him, but he takes you with him as he leaves. 

***

You wake in stages, in a very human way. 

Your eyes flicker open, shut. Yoongi can hear your heart accelerate, your breathing quicken, he can see your muscles tense. 

Your mouth opens on an inhale, and your eyes flicker open again. 

‘Where am I?’ you rasp. 

Your voice is soft, plaintive, your vocal cords swollen from your assault. 

‘You’re in my home,’ Yoongi replies. 

When you turn your head to look at him, your eyes are more focused. 

‘And who are you?’ 

‘I saved your life,’ Yoongi tells you. 

He watches as your eyes scan the domed ceiling, the painted frescoes, the stained glass. Your gaze stops at a scene of the Madonna. 

Yoongi studies your profile, the dirt smudged on your cheekbone he’d not bothered to wipe off.

Your gaze returns to him.

‘You’re Min Yoongi.’

It’s not a question, but Yoongi’s compelled to answer anyway, because the fact that you’ve guessed his identity means there’s more to you than he first thought.

You sit up, and Yoongi wonders how he managed to miss the celestial aura emanating from you. 

Lords and beings.

You’re an angel.

Seokjin is never going to let him live this down.

Min Yoongi, ancient slayer of humans, demonic legend from the mediaeval history of man, saved an angel.

Yoongi gets up, lets a tiny fraction of his darkness show. His voice deepens, resonating through the chapel.

‘Leave.’

You’re frightened, he can see it in the way you’re tensed, body held taut like a bow.

‘I can’t. It’s the night of Pandemonium.’

Pandemonium marks the beginning of when the Gates of Hell open each year. From your reaction, Yoongi guesses you’re a young angel, limited in power, incapable of cloaking or protecting yourself.

He laughs sardonically. ‘I don’t think the home of the bulgasari Prince is the right place for an angel on the night of Pandemonium, do you?’

You clasp your hands.

‘I’m not an angel.’

Yoongi stares at you.

‘Not anymore. I was cast out.’

For the first time, Yoongi feels a flicker of interest.

He can feel the scales in his mind threaten to tip by the tiniest of margins. 

For the first time, he thinks he might not kill you.

Seemingly unaware of his internal debate, you take a step closer to him.

Towards the most dangerous being in the room.

Yoongi flicks his tongue over his lower lip, steps forward so you can see him in the red glow.

His human form is beautiful, drawing others in. Leading them to their own destruction.

He can see the way your pupils dilate, your tongue wets your bottom lip, as you see him clearly for the first time.

‘You want to stay with me?’ he asks, silky. He takes another step.

You tilt your chin so you can keep looking at him.

‘Show me how much you want to stay.’

Yoongi turns his head towards the painting above the hearth.

‘Destroy it.’

You turn to the painting. 

It’s from the 14th century, by a little known Italian painter called Diavollo, depicting the death of Santa Lucia. He was gifted it by a corrupt nobleman in exchange for his life. Yoongi had taken both. 

You cast a defiant look at him, rush towards the painting. You stop, head bowed, before it.

‘I can’t.’ 

‘You can,’ Yoongi says, pitching his voice low, letting the heat of it flare out to you.

You clasp your hands together again, despairing. ‘I can’t.’

Steps heavy, head bowed, you head for the door. 

You stop just inside the front entrance to the chapel, as if giving him a chance to change his mind before he sends you to certain death.

Yoongi’s had countless beings plead for mercy from him in his long life and he has never once given in.

There’s a stirring in the recesses of his mind as he admires your profile for the last time. It feels like longing.

Then you’re gone, door swinging closed behind you.

***

Yoongi dislikes gatherings like this, when the princes of Hell and their delegates celebrate their misdeeds in front of the beings who serve them.

If Seokjin hadn’t asked him to attend as a personal favour, Yoongi would be in his home.

Oddly, he’s not been able to look at the Diavollo since you gave your life rather than destroy it.

He wonders if that sort of foolishness is what got you exiled.

He’s thought about your face so much that when he sees you, he’s momentarily stilled.

You’re knelt at the feet of Malvarius, the highest ranking demon of Yeomna’s court, save for Seokjin, and Yoongi himself.

Yoongi watches with revulsion as Malvarius scratches a bloodstained nail along the line of your neck, stopping at the iron collar around your throat.

Malvarius wraps his fist in the chain attached to your collar, tugs.

You fold to the ground in a heap of loose limbs and the sheer drapery he’s dressed you in.

Yoongi finds he still doesn’t care to see your face against the ground.

He approaches the demon, and you.

When you see him, there’s a flicker in your eyes.

‘She’s mine,’ Yoongi says, unceremoniously, to Malvarius.

Malvarius, the treacherous devil, says smoothly, ‘Pardon me?’

‘I made her a deal,’ Yoongi replies, preternaturally calm. ‘She owes me.’

Malvarius sits up, and Yoongi realises there’s a crowd gathering.

It doesn’t take much to have demons baying for blood.

Malvarius draws himself up to his full height.

‘Do you mean to say, Yoongi, that you own the soul of Azariel’s only daughter?’

Yoongi blinks.

Azariel, the most revered of the archangels, is a name that strikes fear even in the hearts of the most seasoned of demon princes.

You’re Azariel’s daughter? 

Yoongi remembers the way you cried over the Diavollo as you walked to your death.

You’d not used your father’s name as a bargaining chip. 

Yoongi says, coolly, ‘One fallen angel is just like any other.’

‘She’s a lusty slut,’ Malvarius remarks. ‘Can’t stop opening your legs for me, can you, angel?’

You gasp in pain as he pulls up on the chain, making you dance on your toes to keep from being choked.

Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for the sight of you in pain, either.

‘Give me what’s mine,’ he says, bored. ‘Or we can ask Yeomna to mediate.’

At the mention of the lord of Hell, Malvarius scowls. The last time he clashed with Seokjin, Yoongi had come very close to removing his power, Yeomna’s rules be damned.

He tosses the chain on the stone floor with a clang.

‘To your new master,’ he says, with little grace.

Yoongi removes the collar from around your neck.

‘Follow me,’ he commands.

Yoongi leads you through the debauchery, ignoring your gasps and sobbing breaths as you step through blood, entrails, sex. 

It’s only when you’ve followed him all the way back to his door that he speaks to you.

‘I’m deciding what to do with you,’ he tells you. ‘You will stay here, whilst I decide.’

‘My father won’t engage in barter for me,’ you say immediately. ‘He’d as soon as I was dead as alive.’

‘You must have done something terrible, angel.’ 

Your mouth clamps shut, lips flattening into a straight line.

‘Did you kill?’ Yoongi asks. ‘Maim?’

You barely react to his taunting tone.

‘Were you envious? Greedy?’

You’re quiet.

‘You’re not wrathful,’ Yoongi observes. 

He waits until your eyes meet his.

‘That leaves pride, and lust?’

From the way your face tightens he knows he’s stumbled upon his answer.

Yoongi lets his eyes travel to your beautiful form in the sheer silk you’re draped in.

Your breasts press against the material, rounded, enticing, and as he looks, your nipples tighten visibly.

‘Ah,’ Yoongi says, voice dropped to barely a whisper. ‘He said you were lustful.’

Yoongi leans down, close to your cheek, and enjoys the way you shiver as he breathes on your skin.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your skin, and your pupils dilate so much your eyes are practically black.

Your lips part on his name, and Yoongi, for the first time in a long while, feels a surge of lust.

You stay completely still as he touches your cheek.

‘What do you want from me, angel?’ Yoongi taunts. ‘Aren’t you fallen enough?’

Your breath trembles in your chest as his fingers tighten on your face.

‘Come,’ says Yoongi. ‘Show me how you fell.’

He lets go of your face to caress the swells of your breasts, and you gasp, but you don’t stop him.

Instead, you arch your back to press your breasts into his palms.

‘You want more?’ Yoongi asks. He knows you do.

He grasps the front of your gown, rips it all the way down.

Your thighs tighten on his hand as he reaches between your legs.

Yoongi’s hand explores you, leisurely, slow, until you’re twitching and trembling.

Your nipples are so sensitive now that when Yoongi rolls his tongue around one you buck your hips into his hand.

‘Uhngh,’ you moan. 

Yoongi thumbs the bud at the top of your sex, and your warmth pulses around his fingers.

Wet, hot, tight.

Yoongi drags his tongue along the round of your breast, and your breathing hitches.

Your nipples are so puffy and erect they almost look painful.

You whine as he grasps your rounded flesh. The sound causes a stirring, low in his belly.

Yoongi’s cock swells at the sounds you make. You’re so pleasured, breathless, and he’s barely making any effort.

He’s already almost fully erect when your soft hand brushes the front of his groin.

‘Bold for an angel,’ he says.

There’s a spark in your eyes, clouded with lust. 

‘How many angels have you defiled, Lord Min?’

Yoongi considers your question as his eyes roam your beautiful body.

‘None,’ he tells you.

You smile, and you’re so pretty he can’t take his eyes off you.

‘Luckily, I’m not an angel any more.’

Yoongi smirks. ‘Let me show you how the other side lives.’

He turns, and you follow.

***

You’re lost, Yoongi isn’t sure when it happened, probably between your fourth, maybe fifth peak.

He’s covered in your arousal, he can taste you on his lips, on his tongue. His cock’s still so rigid inside you he’s aching, caught in the delirium between pleasure and pain.

He plunges into your wet warmth, rocking his hips against yours.

Your arms are limp, one draped around his neck, just barely holding on, the other splayed out, fingers uncurled. You look dazed, fucked out, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You cry out as Yoongi moves, dragging his cock against the walls of your cunt, and he notes with grim satisfaction how hoarse your voice now is.

‘Yoongi,’ you beg, ‘wanna feel you.’

‘You’ll feel me,’ he promises.

You shake your head. ‘I want to feel your pleasure.’

Yoongi groans as you hold your legs apart for him, letting him see exactly how he cleaves you apart , the way he looks entering your core.

He wraps a hand around your neck, tight, and your eyes close. Your hand snakes around his wrist, urging him on.

You’re clenching around him so sweetly Yoongi’s disarmed, and when you press a kiss to his temple he releases, shouting your name, spilling inside you.

Belatedly, he remembers to loosen his grip around your neck, and as you remain still he feels an unnerving wave of fear that he might have hurt you.

He says your name, and you stir. Relief floods through his chest. 

‘Stay,’ you mumble into his chest. ‘Stay.’

Yoongi curls his arm around you, a display of skinship he’s unused to but that you seem to want.

He wonders, curious, why he’s swayed to want to give you what you want.

***

You wake during the night. 

Yoongi’s flat on his back, arm propping up his head. He watches with dark amusement as you look your fill at his naked form. 

‘You’re too wide-eyed considering you have my seed all over you,’ he drawls. 

You blink at him. ‘I was surprised to wake, my lord.’

‘You thought I’d kill Azariel’s fallen daughter?’ Yoongi muses, not bothering to acknowledge how close to the truth you are. 

‘You do have a reputation, Lord Min,’ you say, so seriously that it takes him a moment to realise you’re teasing him. 

He’s startled into laughter that sounds rusty even to him. 

You turn over, breasts spilling onto the silk bedcovers, lush and beautiful like you were made to tempt him. 

His cock stirs, and it doesn’t escape your notice, minx that you are. 

You reach for him, gentle, soft against his hardness. 

Yoongi groans, eyes never leaving you as you stroke him. Your lips part on a breath, tongue flicking between. The cavern of your mouth feels like the heaven Yoongi will never know. 

He’s never rued being born a demon prince until this moment. 

Yoongi pulls you off his rigid shaft, seeks the warmth between your legs. You’re already gasping, spreading to take him, so soft and slick and willing he can barely hold himself back. 

His hand finds its way around your neck again, squeezing, and the pleasure ramps up a thousandfold. 

Your back arches as you peak, and this time Yoongi doesn’t have the patience to deny himself. He groans into your hair as he fills you, remembers to loosen his grip. 

You’re emboldened to press a kiss to his lips, a moment of contact so searing Yoongi’s jolted out of his post-pleasure daze. 

Neither of you speak, and neither of you makes a move to leave. 

***

It’s just past dawn when Yoongi stirs to the back of your entirely naked body. 

You’re getting re-dressed, helping yourself to his clothes. 

‘I should go,’ you say. 

Yoongi hadn’t realised you’d noticed he was awake. 

Pandemonium has passed, but Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for any possibility that you might get hurt. 

He rises, unclasps a chain from around his neck, fastens it around your own. The ancient rune now hanging between your collarbones is distinctly, identifiably, his. 

There aren’t many who would seek his wrath. 

‘My father will —--’ 

‘Rue the day he let you fall into the hands of a demon prince?’ suggests Yoongi. 

The hint of a smile plays around your lips, and Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away. 

‘I’ll be back,’ you say. There's a faint question in your voice.

‘See that you are,’ Yoongi replies. 

You bow slightly. ‘My lord.’ 

You take your leave, and Yoongi allows himself to watch you go until you slip between two buildings, and then you’re gone. 

©hamsterclaw 2023