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hoseoksluna · 2 months ago

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THE BALL OF LIGHT, ii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: angst

word count: 4.2k

summary: inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: mentions of smoking and vaping, described nudity, oc feels a lot of emotions and she's overwhelmed, guilt.

note: i really enjoyed writing this chapter and it opened my eyes actually to where it's going. i hope you like the chapter as well. writing about jungkook is my biggest comfort. i feel at home. i love you, guys. happy reading. don't forget to tell me what you think. i'd appreciate it if you tell me ur expectations. <3

side note: i also want to update my taglist because i feel like most of the people i tag haven't allowed themselves to be tagged on this app. if you want to be tagged in my works, let me know. in comments below or my askbox.

It seems as though Jeongguk is still turning your words over his heart once you arrive at his apartment and the sullen grayness of his personal space greets you. A certain pensive look, embellished with a wrinkle between his brows, paints him in the shades of stark reclusiveness, the unapproachability of that façade the blue highlights that make the current inertia of his usual hyperactivity uncannily animated. It’s an oxymoron, the stillness of his being, despite the fact you very vividly sense the turmoil happening inside his chest.

Turmoil must be second-nature to him. Almost like a friend.

You don’t know what to say. The downturned corners of his mouth are so engraved into your vision that when you look away, you can still see them. Sad and pouty, caused in most probability by the truth you uttered. War happens, Jeongguk, if Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our home. Those were the most heart-felt, authentic words that were flung out of the chambers of your heart because—yes, if Yoongi were to know that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy with a nicotine-addiction, a motorcycle and a tendency to go back to people who have spread agony down his lungs like the white fumes of his cigarettes, he would get up from the kitchen table and grab the nearest knife, start a war for your dream that, according to him, got interrupted by temporary, meaningless things.

But Jeongguk isn’t meaningless. You thought for the longest time that he was temporary, but his lingering presence through high school and now through uni convinced you of the opposite. You believe now, now as he bends at the waist to place a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers with a yummy fried egg on top in front of your icy-cold, socked feet, that he has more shape—the eyes of an angel born wrong, born human, the mouth of a saint that fears to say the wrong thing—than your dream does.

Your dream doesn’t have a face.

Your dream doesn’t have a meaning, either.

Yoongi knows this, pretends he knows the contours of that dream when he tells you to go study. Pretends he knows the color of its flesh, all the greens, purples and blues, when the only words he throws your way are of commanding nature. Come eat. Go shower. Go study. Don’t. You can’t recollect the last time you had a genuine conversation with him that did not include those very words.

It’s exhausting. Your bones are burdened by it—by being treated as a student and not as a human being. But you ignore this because you respect him, hold him in high regard because of his own burden, laid heavy across the length of his shoulders that have become too thin, too skeletal, that have once been broad, beautiful and ogled by those, who had the luck to encounter him.

He doesn’t go to the gym anymore, to fill the mass of his muscles with exercise. He works long hours doing food delivery to fill your tummy instead.

And it’s hard—balancing your respect for him and your ostensibly inner desire to go in search of the things you read about in your books. You can’t help but expect to dig them out, selfishly, in Jeongguk. The kind, now somber, boy who has been by your side for so long. With words and simultaneously without.

Would Yoongi understand? Doesn’t he, also, have a need for company?

You push those thoughts away and focus on the clandestiny. On Jeongguk’s frown, on his adorable pout, on his emotions. Because perhaps in it you shall find your destiny.

Jeongguk walks forward and you swell with the guilty need to fix what you’ve broken, to glue back the pieces that put together his traditional cheer. The tree in you shivers in cold. Your own bones are still frosty like that bus stop you both escaped from. But glancing at the span of his shoulders, drooped and rolled forward, the guilt expands, making you think that maybe you shouldn’t have said something, despite the fact the truth made a dent in the birdcage you have been dwelling in since the death of your parents.

He empties out his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone, a pack of cigarettes, lighter and a pink, fat vape that you’ve never seen him smoking before. He places those essentials on the kitchen counter, stretching his hands backwards and ridding himself of his beige hoodie. The T-shirt he wears underneath rides up, exposing the smooth and muscled skin of his back, and your throat dries up at the sight. The tree stills, pacified by the movement of his shoulder blades. It puts a spell on you, this innocent yet consumingly heated view of a male’s body, one that continues burning down your body even when he grabs a hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it down.

Somehow, the act made it hotter.

Your fingers wrap around your throat, a habit of yours that helps you compose yourself, ground yourself in the severity of the moment. Jeongguk reaches his hand towards the kitchen counter again and as you swallow with great difficulty, he fills his lungs with that scented fume before discarding it.

It isn’t until your breath comes out in pathetic staccatos that he turns around. Large eyes heavily lidded, clouded by that white smoke as he exhales. He purses his lips, dimples on full show, in order to make the smoke thinner. And that, the eye contact while blowing out the fumes, his full attention on you, the element that you’re here—in a boy’s apartment, all alone, for the first time, that warms up your bones, the frost melting away. You feel your body form little pearls of perspiration, overwhelmed and so suddenly overheated by his boyish beauty.

He’ll never know—just like Yoongi. He’ll never know what he does to you.

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can get warm,” he says, softly, and shuffles his feet towards the brightly lit kitchen. You hear the water running, the clapping noise of the kettle being shut and then the boiling bubbles, but you’re frozen—red-hot and frozen—in the place you’re standing, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to be a normal human being. “You’re free to take a shower if you want.”

A headache pierces through your undeveloped frontal lobe. Nothing about this is normal to you—being over a guy’s place, using his shower and his towel, drinking his tea. Being at home all the time never prepares you for this and while you feel so out of place, it also evokes the feeling of thrill.

This is thrilling.

And it should stay feeling that way, but your guilt eclipses it so quickly. Your guilt and your self-pity. Due to Yoongi, due to the fact that this should feel normal and that you should act normally. How many girls must’ve been in your place and how well they were able to talk to him and accept his kindness and hospitality without being weird about it.

You run a hand down your face. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feeling like slapping yourself so you snap out of it and act normal. Yoongi flickers in your chest, however, and you’re reminded that you should let him know where you are. Usually, at this hour, you’re settled in your cage. Right there in the corner, the only warm spot because you sit there all the time. But you’re not there. You fit your body through the slivers, your feet rubbing against the different, more warmer floor than the one inside your birdcage, while your wrist remains chained to the center.

Your bus, the number 59, never came. Jeongguk’s, number 60, was the last one that came due to the thickness of the snow and he said that you should get on with him so you don’t freeze on the bus stop. I’ll drive you home on my bike, he promised. I got a helmet for you. And you agreed, despite the fact your thumb was ready to dial Yoongi’s number, because it came natural to you to follow a male’s order.

You scratch your fingernails through your scalp, waking yourself up from the stupor, and you take a deep breath. You’re here and you’re safe. Jeongguk is the safest person you can go behind Yoongi’s back with. These are the words you internally repeat to yourself as you lift one leg and the other, watching where they take you.

You wind up at the very edge of the counter where all of Jeongguk’s essentials lay scattered. You go to study all the charms hung over his keys when your fingers, somehow instinctively, take a hold of his pink vape. Light and pink, fitting just right in the palm of your hand. Your clandestine habits are invariably seen by Jeongguk, however.

“Don’t puff on that,” he says, pouring the boiling water inside the kettle over your cup of tea. A Christmas-themed one, evidently for adults only. The taupe Gingerbread man has a raging, bare boner that sticks out to the side whilst his hands are lifted, cheerfully, in the air. Your mouth parts, blush coloring your cheeks in dusty pink, and your brain, bizarrely, connects the Gingerbread man’s emotion to Jeongguk—both emotions, in fact. So bizarrely that anger begins to grow in you because a picture of Jeongguk’s own happy boner pops up before your eyes. Big, hard, leaking. Your stifling heat descends to your lower regions and you have to rub your eyelids in order to stop seeing it, your cheeks scalding, embarrassingly hot. “It’s not good to mix it.”

Without asking, he places one spoon of sugar inside that obscene cup, stirring it diligently. And the clinking noise rams a clapping monkey inside your brain.

You’ll die. From this headache, from the heat, from how irresistible this boy is.

You’ve never felt this way before towards him. Never seen him in this lustful light before. And you don’t know what to do—it’s towering you, so much bigger than you and you have very little strength to stand up to it.

It’s not good to see your so-called friend like this.

Jeongguk brings the cup over to you, placing it before his stuff. The Gingerbread man faces you, smiling ever so gleefully, and the blush of your cheeks deepens within this proximity. Jeongguk takes his vape from your hand and puffs on it��and your brain remembers what he just talked about.

“But you mix it,” you say, your words dripping with confusion, and Jeongguk places the device back into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your flesh. You regard it as intimate, that brief physical contact, and it speeds up your heartbeat.

That touch-starved you are.

“I shouldn’t, but I do,” he responds, his pretty eyelashes static, unblinking, those macadamia chocolate pools of his penetrating your pupils. “I try to stick to just one from time to time, but my nerves are asking for more.”

You look down at the pink device, imagine it’s his hand that you’re closing your fingers over. Think his explanation has zero backbone, and so your confusion drips on.

“Nerves?” you inquire, a wrinkle appearing between your brows akin to his, even though his has been smoothed out. It seems his act of service to you is slowly easing his sombreness.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to elaborate, though. He flicks his eyes towards the cup and nods, just once, encouraging you to drink. You let out a quiet huff of a scoff. Consider it strange that he’s so unwilling to expand on this matter when he has shared with you in the past the reason behind his smoking habit. Trauma from his relationship with Ka-eun and the difficulty of his field. What else is behind those nerves of his that you can’t know about?

You follow the trace of his gaze towards the cup, feeling smaller than you are. Incompetent, inexperienced for the vivacity, immensity of his life that looks nothing like yours. Your pointer finger pokes out, clicking against the emerald green handle.

“Am I supposed to really drink from this?” you murmur, meaning it as a joke that would fix what you cooked in this situation, but it comes out much sadder than you planned, the hollowness from all of your lacks coating your vocal cords.

Jeongguk scowls and turns the cup around, his brows springing upwards as he glances at the naked and aroused Gingerbread man. You begin to anticipate his laughter that would make you feel worse about yourself, but it never breezes through.

Actually, Jeongguk apologizes. Makes a big deal out of it.

“My God,” he sighs, adding your name, running his fingers through his hair before he puts the cup away, but you stop him by enveloping your fingers across the warm, naked skin of his forearm. His eyes widen en route to yours and he holds the misting cup in his hand, immune to its hot temperature. The good ones don’t get burned, your mother would say with hatefulness whenever your fingers would get burned by steaming cups and hot running water in the sink, and she proves you right in this moment. You bet she smiles in her grave, seeing from the afterlife that you are indeed bad while the others are good. “I didn’t notice. I have one just like this, but he’s dressed. I thought I’d pulled out that one. I’m sorry.”

But you’re not scandalized by it. As a matter of fact, you like the little Christmas man—there’s something oddly comforting about his own comfort in his sexuality, smiling as gleefully as he is. What you said was a stupid joke, one that shouldn’t have left your mouth.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It was just a joke,” you say, hurriedly, sweeping your eyes over his in the same pace whilst he remains calmly staring at you, a steady stream of thoughts filtering through those features of his that you wish you knew the contents of.

You always said you’d die for knowledge, and right now you’d die to discover what he’s thinking about, looking at you the way that he is.

He flattens his lips. “I’ll make you another one.”

He turns around and you yelp your disagreement, cupping your hands around his. And the greater intimacy of this physical contact consumes you whole.

The heat grows, your spine wet with perspiration. Jeongguk swivels his head back, the shorter pieces of his hair swooshing past his forehead, landing on those pretty, pretty eyelashes. And it’s his turn to part his mouth, for blush to creep up his pale cheeks, and your heart—it melts.

You’ve never held hands with a boy before. And right now, you’ve come very close to doing it. In fact, the tender grip bears the resemblance of hand holding and you can’t take it.

A pained, indistinct pout quivers on your lips. A characteristic expression of yours, which conveys that something has hurt you. Your mother would give you a hard time because of it and that’s how you learned that you do it. That’s how you learned how to fleetly hide it, too.

This is the closest you’ll ever get.

Tears rush to your waterline. You blink it away, stretching your lips into a little, neutral smile. The scent of cinnamon and cloves from the tea hits your nostrils and from the edges of your palms, you feel how hot the cup really is. It sobers you up quite rapidly.

“It’s hot, set it down,” you breathe and don’t let go of his hands until Jeongguk complies, the pensiveness back to shadowing his face, but he’s not unapproachable, not at all. The entirety of his dispirited and contrite aura is welcoming, pastel blue instead of that grayish undertone, and he looks at you as if you held the entire world in your palms and he was content with just being near it, silently hoping you show him grace and give it to him.

But that’s not you. You’re too small to cup this world. Too stupid, too unfledged.

It’s him who’s flown around it, deeply acknowledged with it. Who’s smart, who’s a full-fledged bird, unlimited and unhindered.

It’s you who should be looking at him like that and drinking from his vulgar cup.

And you shall.

“I’ll drink it, it’s cute.”

He doesn’t trust it, though, and that’s the scar Ka-eun carved into the flesh of his mind. You brush the pads of your fingers across it, however, when you take the scalding cup to your lips, blow on it and take a small, hesitant sip of it. And the wintry taste of cinnamon and cloves, it is the sap to your tree.

You hum in delight, taking another sip, even though the temperature burns the tip of your tongue. You watch as Jeongguk’s brows twitch and as a certain glimmering glint of endearment laced with unbelief fills his eyes with the canvas of stars. He straightens his spine while you swallow, his lungs inhaling and exhaling slowly but surely.

It is a sight to behold, the entirety of his boyish beauty. And you hate that you regard him this way, that your forced visit caused this because you’ll walk out of this door with a longing entwined around your heart.

A longing for him to be yours.

You set the cup down, cradling it in your palms, your sweat clinging to your body. Jeongguk averts his gaze and rubs his chest, roaming his eyes everywhere but on you, landing on the pink vape you placed on the counter before almost-holding his hand.

But he doesn’t take a puff of it. Not this time.

And you want to heal that scar of his even more. Only because he pushed you very close to the things you read in your books and always wanted to experience.

“I think the tea tastes so good because you made it in this cup,” you chirp, tenderly, giving him a genuine smile, one that Jeongguk doesn’t reciprocate. That one corner of his mouth doesn’t lift, the long cleft of his dimple doesn’t appear. Your heart trembles for a brief moment. In a foreign kind of emotion that feels like fear but isn’t because the turmoil in him rages on and you’re useless. Completely and utterly useless in your efforts.

His stare is deadly, marked by the depth of his thoughts.

“Why did you say war happens if you and your brother see each other outside?” he asks, his tone low and grumbling.

A frightening question. Because no one has ever asked you that. Because you’ve never had the chance to answer such an intimate, personal question. Because no one has ever cared about your home situation.

The trembling of your heart reaches your entire body and you hide your hands behind your back. Lament that you can’t cradle the cup. Lament that you can’t drink it and postpone your response. Lament that you don’t have a normal life. One worth talking about happily, that is.

You don’t know what to say. How to begin, how to string the words together in a way that he would understand. And it’s not that you fear that he will judge you; it’s that you fear that the way he looks at you, regards you will forever change.

You were never the cool girl and you never were the weird girl, either. Somewhere in the middle you stand, solitary and detached, regardless.

You open your mouth, willing the words to spring out of you on their own, without any careful thoughts to cover them.

“Yoongi wants me to live a life that doesn’t look like this,” you start, mirroring his tone, unable to look him in the eye. You sense the demons of your guilt and your ungratefulness cornering you, coming closer and closer—and you can’t walk away, you can only speak.

Jeongguk, however, is quick and curt with his following question.

“Like what?”

The pearls of your perspiration thicken on the planes of your throat, which constricts. You blink, thinking that you don’t wish to offend him with any formulation of your sentences. So you go around it, hoping he understands. The demons inch closer—and you can’t breathe.

Jeongguk doesn’t blink, focused intently as he is on the emotions written on your form. It creates a delicate, yet protective ring around you that keeps the demons outside. And he lessens your strange fear owing to that.

“He wants me to focus on school and focus on my dream while he takes care of everything else. It was a deal he made between us. I study, he works. Nothing else,” you continue, and Jeongguk bites his lip, nodding in understanding as he glides his eyes down your face to your sweat-coated neck. For some reason, that little act of his acknowledgement dispels those demons—and you no longer feel guilty, you no longer feel ungrateful because Jeongguk validated those emotions, didn’t scrunch his nose at them. And that heals, little by little, your wounded, flightless bird wings.

“What does your dream look like?” he asks once again, and you wonder at the formulation of his question. It’s not what’s your dream; he’s asking for a description of the biggest mystery of your life.

And you chuckle, humorlessly. Jeongguk flicks his gaze back to your eyes, seemingly not knowing what to expect.

“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what it looks like, and Yoongi doesn’t know either.”

The roundness of his eyelids spasms, as if the truth you just uttered irks him. The validation grows and buds of blossoms sprout open, in the middle of this sunless winter, upon the twigs of the tree within you.

“He doesn’t know what your dream is and yet he decided how you should live,” Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head, and you marvel at the light bursting in your sternum. It is the sun to your growth, to your tree’s growth.

A moment of bliss that is too brief, for you begin to sense an uncompromising responsibility to stand up for your brother. He means well—he’s doing it out of the love and kindness of his heart as the root of this declared problem is literature.

And literature is your life. It’s all you know.

You begin to say these words, but Jeongguk interrupts you.

“I understand, but you need to live a life that you want to live,” he rasps, standing taller than he was a minute ago, greater and powerful than he ever was. That confident and assured he is in his opinion and you gawk at him as if he were a cult leader, about to change the course of your life. Maybe, just maybe, the cinnamon tea was the kool aid—and you want to drink again, but you’re ashamed of the trembling of your hands. “And if you feel like you’re indebted to him, you shouldn’t. You’re an adult. It’s your life, it’s not his just because he’s older.”

Your throat dries and you risk it all, enveloping your fingers around the cup. Jeongguk’s all seeing eye notices your movement and his powerfulness drops. He sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Bare, bare you are all for him to see. For anyone for the first time in your life—and at this point, you don’t even know how it makes you feel.

Where light and so many emotions were inside you, emptiness falls like fine dust. You’re reminded of that one sentence in White Nights and, quietly, you reflect on it while your fingers tremble on.

My God, a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?

Jeongguk makes space, like the ring of protection he created around you, by taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply looks at you, reads your body language, and lingers at your hands. At the fact you don’t drink. At the fact you don’t speak. At the fact that nothing will ever be the same after this conversation.

When he asks his last question, he softens his voice. His demeanor, too. Allows his arms to plummet down to his sides. Sags against the counter.

“He doesn’t know we’re friends, does he?”

Something that resembles a cry leaves your mouth and you’re so shocked by the freedom of your emotions that your hand leaps to cup your mouth, as if to hold back any more outpouring. That is your reaction.

Jeongguk’s is more earth-shattering.

By his instinct, he lengthens his spine and his hand… his beautiful, strong and veiny hand jerks towards your direction, as if to catch your hand, prevent it from hiding your outpouring—or as if to catch your outpouring alone.

And it is so heartbreaking to you that you mutter the first thing that comes to your mind and run away.

And you don’t realize where you are until you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A mascara tear stains your cheek in blackness, and the smallness of the bathroom encloses around you.

You want to wash it away. Feel like the decision is yours to make, a right one at that. Feel like it’s the first step in the new way Jeongguk bestowed over your life by his wise words. And so you undress.

And you don’t lock the door.

And you don’t hear your phone ringing ten minutes later.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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7ndipity · 9 months ago

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I just had a dream with Namjoon cuddling me and now I'm soft and in need of someone to cuddle with me 🥲

Soooo how do u think each one would cuddle with their S/O? I think Hobi would totally be braiding their SO hair if it's long enough, and maybe Namjoon would be kissing their SO cheeks?? Idk but that's what I've dreamed about and everytime I remember about it it makes me giggle 🥹🥹

How They Cuddle

Ot7 x Reader

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: These made me so soft while writing, I need someone to cuddle asap!🥺😊

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: Jin likes when you sit across his lap with your head on his shoulder, so he can wrap his arms around and keep you safe and cozy while you watch tv or smth. Whenever he feels particularly tired or stressed, he likes to lay on your chest or tummy, listening to you talk about whatever until he eventually dozes off. His favorite way to sleep tho is with your head resting on his chest, feeling you slowly relax into him.

Yoongi: I think he likes it when you lean against each other as you sit side by side. It’s not exactly full-on cuddling, but it just feels comforting to him. He’s also a sucker for classic spooning, pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, face tucked against the back of your neck, breathing in scent. Sometimes when he’s in a needy or teasing mood, he’ll just come over and lay on top of you and refuse to move bc “you’re comfy”.

Hobi: Like you said, Hobi tends to let his hands wander, not always in a suggestive way(though that definitely happens sometimes) His braids/plays with your hair, traces patterns and words on your skin, counts your freckles, etc. He basically does all the same things that he loves that you do to him. He doesn’t really have a preferred position, tho he def dies a little whenever he wakes up to you spooning him from behind. It makes him feel so safe and loved.

Namjoon: Joon, I think, is a big fan of back hugs or having you lay on his chest. He likes that he can keep one hand free to hold a book or his phone, while the other is looped around your waist, keeping you close as you’re laying together. Sometimes at night tho, he seeks you out in his sleep, curling into your side with his face buried in your chest in the same way you do to him, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, clinging to you as if his life depends on it.

Jimin: Jimin loves any form of cuddling, but one of his favorite positions is when one of you lays back against the other's chest. He loves wrapping his arms around you and gently rocking you side to side, or how you play with his hands as he talks, how he can hook his legs around your waist to keep you from getting up, even though you told him you had to leave three times already. He also loves when you lay in bed facing each other, legs tangled together as you talk about your day.

Taehyung: Tae adores skinship, so he doesn’t really care what form it comes in. He likes laying on your chest or resting his head in your lap while you play with his hair. His actual favorite tho, is when you lay facing each other, an arm thrown over your waist, legs tangled together as you talk in hushed tones before bed or first thing in the morning, faces close enough that if he wanted to, he could connect your mouths with just a slight tilt of his head.

Jungkook: I think he likes any position that allows him to wrap his arms around you. Sometimes, he comes home and just latches himself to your back, following you around while you do your thing(in the same way that he does with the other members). Whenever you’re sitting together on the couch, he likes to pull you or your legs to rest across his lap, playing with your hands or jewelry as you watch tv. He’s almost always the big spoon, unless he’s feeling particularly needy, and then he likes to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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thatgoddamngingerundercut · 7 months ago

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180707 SBS Super Concert in Taipei 'Anpanman' SUGA Focus (redux)

#bts #min yoongi #suga #bts suga #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #sbs super concert in taipei #redux #was never happy with these so i went back and redid them #yoongi tummy yoongi tummy yoongi tummy #bts gifs #suga gifs #my gifs

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poutyniall · 2 years ago

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these details live in my head rent free 24/7

#min yoongi #suga #yoongi #agust d #min suga #d day tour #yoongi details #yoongi legs #suga legs #yoongi belly #suga tummy #yoongi hips #yoongi hands #suga fingers #bts yoongi #bts suga #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts

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writtenwhalien · 20 days ago

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a lover's redemption | chapter 4

chapter 4. through the cracks

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 11.5k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings). please be warned this chapter has a fair amount of descriptive violence.

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and shareeeee xxoxoxox any questions, let me know (maybe i should make a post for all the characters and who they are since there’s a lot now..?)

The morning light streams through your bedroom window, golden and soft as it filters through the curtains, painting the walls in hues of warmth. It coaxes you from sleep gently, the weight of the night slipping away. As you stir, blinking against the sunlight, fragments of your conversation with Jimin float to the surface of your mind. His voice, calm and steady. His quiet honesty, disarming in a way you hadn’t expected, and the softness in his gaze.

You turn onto your side, clutching the blanket a little tighter. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel lighter, at ease -- you don’t feel like you’re bracing for something to go wrong.

After a few minutes of indulging in the warmth, you sit up, stretching to chase away the last remnants of sleep. Your body feels sluggish, a dull ache in your leg reminding you of the wound that still needs tending. It feels more manageable but as you move the covers back, you're sure the bandages need changing.

You rise carefully and move to the en-suite, splashing your face with cool water. You take your time getting ready, brushing your hair and choosing something comfortable to wear. What is normally a quick job has turned into a few minutes of you painfully wincing to get your shorts up but eventually you're dressed and ready to go down, just in time as your tummy lets out a low growl.

As you leave the room, the faint sounds of life in the house reach your ears — muffled conversation, the clinking of dishes. You realise it’s a sound you haven’t heard in a very long time. Not since you left Namwon many years ago, and even then, the household residing there was much smaller. Hearing it now, you realise you missed it. You let that thought linger as you make your way toward the staircase.

Without Yoongi or Jin to help, the stairs suddenly feel like a mammoth task, requiring extra care as you descend. You brace your hand lightly on the banister, and take the first step, then another, and another. Halfway down the first flight, you hesitate for a moment to gather your strength as there's still another staircase to go after this. Just as you step forward, a movement in the hall below catches your eye. Jimin is there, standing near the base of the staircase.

He looks up, his gaze immediately meeting yours. “Heading down?”

You nod, gripping the railing as you continue your descent.

Jimin steps closer, his hands slipping casually into his pockets as he watches you carefully. “Want some help?” he offers, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m okay,” you reply with a small smile, keeping your movements steady. The stairs creak faintly under your weight, the sound a quiet reminder of your vulnerability which you positively hate.

You focus on each step, but out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jimin hasn’t moved away. He lingers nearby, his presence an unspoken reassurance, ready to step in if needed.

“How’s the leg healing?” he asks, breaking the silence as you reach the landing.

As you walk down the hall to the ground floor staircase, he walks with you.

You glance at him briefly, appreciating the way he’s keeping pace with you without hovering too closely. “It feels okay. Jin said it’ll take a few weeks.”

Jimin nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he agrees. Then, just as you stand ahead of the first step, a teasing smirk softens the edges of his expression, and he adds, “Though your refusal to use the lift probably isn’t helping.”

You pause mid-step, smiling as you catch your breath. He’s not wrong, but you can’t help defending yourself. “I need to stay moving. It’s good for me.”

“You’re right,” he says, inclining his head. “Far be it from me to argue with that logic.”

Unable to help yourself, you laugh. "Don't get smart with me. You're the same boy who would fall over and rub dirt on the wound to try to heal it."

Jimin laughs and the sound resonates more deeply than you’d expected. "Hey, in my defense, it really felt like it was doing something."

“I’m sure it did,” you say, giving him a playful look as you take the final few steps.

Finally reaching the bottom, you feel a small sense of accomplishment, though your leg aches faintly in protest.

Jimin gestures toward the dining room, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back to guide you. “Come on,” he says. “The others are already eating.”

As you enter the dining room, the familiar hum of conversation fills the air. The boys are seated at the long table, their laughter and chatter pausing briefly as they notice you.

“Morning,” Jungkook greets with a grin, his tone light.

Namjoon nods at you, while Hoseok offers a cheerful “Good to see you up.”

Jin’s eyes dart to your leg, assessing. “You okay?” he asks, his tone softer but still tinged with his usual care.

You nod. “I’m good, thanks.”

Jimin, walking beside you, pulls out a chair for you. Surprised by the small but thoughtful gesture, you smile. “Thank you.”

He returns the smile, gentle and understated, before taking his own seat at the head of the table.

“What does everyone think of these pastries?” Jungkook asks, leaning forward slightly as he gestures to the tray of golden-brown treats at the center of the table, despite having two on his plate. “I think they’re part of a seasonal recipe.”

Hoseok raises a brow at him. “And how would you know that, Jungkook?”

Jungkook shrugs, unapologetic. “I asked Iseul about it yesterday.”

Hoseok chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course you have. Who else but you would interrogate the chef about pastries?”

The group laughs, and Jungkook grins boyishly, unbothered by the teasing. The lightheartedness is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing into the atmosphere, the morning starting to feel like a brief reprieve.

“Speaking of seasonal changes,” Jin says, absentmindedly looking out toward the window, “is anyone else noticing how much colder it feels already? August isn’t even over yet!"

Taehyung rolls his eyes dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “You’re such a drama queen, hyung. There’s only a few days left of the month and it’s barely a breeze.”

Jin shrugs, uncaring. “I’m just saying, it’s chilly now."

The banter carries on, laughter bubbling around the table, however, you notice that despite the endless conversation from everyone, Jimin remains quiet, only laughing or smiling at whatever else is being said. You're sure he's preoccupied with all the bigger matters at hand.

Once almost everyone's plate is cleared, Yoongi clears his throat softly, drawing your attention. “I had some of your things brought over from your house. But the damage was pretty extensive, so it’ll probably take a few weeks before it’s liveable again.”

You nod, unsurprised but grateful for the update. “Thank you.”

Yoongi gives a small nod, his expression unreadable but his words steady. “The paintings you asked for have been placed into a safe storrbge unit but let me know if there’s anything else you need from there in the meantime.”

The table falls quiet for a beat, a subtle shift in mood as everyone digests the reality of your situation.

From across the table, Jimin is looking your way, but when you catch his eye, his expression shifts to a smile, but there’s no hiding the sombre behind it.

Then Seokjin speaks up, undoubtedly attempting to steer the conversation back toward lighter topics. “I was thinking of helping to create the Christmas dinner menu this year, actually.”

Still looking at Jimin, you smile back but you’re unable to hide the same sombreness behind it. You feel the same heaviness he no doubt feels, though you know for him, it’s worse. Seeing you smile, he softens a little more, the knot in his brows unwinding.

“Hyung, it’s literally August.” Hoseok notes, drawing your attention back to the rest of the table.“Almost September. Besides, I already have some ideas, and I know once you taste it, you’ll be begging for seconds,” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at Hoseok.

“I actually agree with Jin,” Namjoon backs him up through a mouthful of food.

“Same.” Jungkook looks at Hoseok and shrugs.

Another chorus of agreement goes around the table, prompting Hoseok to attempt to defend himself, and soon the laughter resumes, brightening the room once more.

After breakfast, the group begins to disperse. Jimin exchanges a quiet word with Yoongi and Hoseok before excusing himself, the three heading toward the east wing. You watch them leave, their conversation low but purposeful. Before you can wonder too much about their plans, Namjoon steps beside you, his demeanor calm but with a hint of purpose.

“Come with me,” he says, gesturing toward the lounge.

Curious, you follow him into the cosy room. Sunlight streams through the large windows, casting warm patches of light on the plush armchairs and neatly arranged bookshelves. Namjoon picks up his laptop from a side table and places it in front of you on the coffee table, sliding it your way with a small smile.

You glance at him, confused. “What’s this?”

Namjoon chuckles, settling into the armchair across from you. “Like we mentioned at breakfast, it’s not safe for you to go back home just yet. So, whatever you need -- clothes, toiletries, anything else, just go ahead and order it. Consider it a housewarming gift.”

You blink at him, the request catching you off guard. “You’re asking me to… go shopping?”

He nods seriously. “Exactly.”

A laugh escapes you as you glance down at your outfit — an old pair of basketball shorts and a borrowed t-shirt. “Well, yeah, I guess these won’t cut it for long.”

Namjoon smiles, leaning back comfortably. “Don’t hold back. Get what you need.”

You hesitate for a moment before sitting down on the couch and opening the laptop. Namjoon watches you for a moment longer, ensuring you’re settled, before standing. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you reply, already pulling up a browser.

As the door clicks shut behind him, you settle into the task, scrolling through websites and adding essentials to your cart. What starts as a practical endeavour — clothes, toiletries, and a few necessities — soon becomes something more indulgent as you add cosy socks, candles, and even a few books to the list. You can’t help but smile at yourself as the cart grows. By the end of the hour, you’ve got multiple tabs open from multiple stores and enough to make anyone question if you were stocking up for an entire year.

Not long after you finish placing your order, the sound of footsteps in the hallway draws your attention. Taehyung and Jungkook appear in the doorway, their expressions bright and eager. Jungkook waves enthusiastically while Taehyung leans casually against the frame, his signature boxy grin in full effect.

“Hey,” Taehyung says smoothly, “we were thinking, it’s time for a tour of the house.”

Jungkook nods quickly. “Yeah, it’s big, and we figured you'd want to go for a walk anyway.”

Their energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. “I appreciate the thought,” you say, standing and brushing your hands on your borrowed shorts. For a moment, you hesitate — their enthusiasm is sweet but you feel like you'd be wasting their time in going along with them since you already know the house, and honestly, you trust them enough to tell them the simple truth.

“There’s really no need though.” You pause, smiling awkwardly. “I’ve been here before.”

That brings them up short. Taehyung tilts his head, his brows drawing together. “You have?”

Jungkook looks equally puzzled. “When?”

“As a kid, I came here a few times.”

Their confusion remains.

“My dad was Han Sehun.”

Recognition flashes in their eyes immediately. “Ah,” they say in unison, voices laced with understanding. For a moment, you see they seem somewhat apologetic too and you reckon they must know about what happened to your dad and your family. But they quickly return to their usual selves.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Taehyung says, exchanging a look with Jungkook.

You smile at their reaction. They seem so genuine, so easy to be around that it’s hard not to relax.

“So, you’ve seen everything?” Taehyung asks, his curiosity piqued.

You nod. “Pretty much.”

“Even the east wing?” he presses.

You hum, nodding again.

Jungkook folds his arms, his expression teasing. “What about the basement?”

That stops you. You blink at him, a little thrown. “Basement?”

Taehyung’s face lights up like a child with a secret. “Oh, you’ll love it.”

Jungkook nods, matching his energy. "It’s the best part."

“Alright, lead the way.”

They each take a side and help you up, steadying you as you walk. "Come on, you’ll get full access to everything, just as Jimin instructed," Jungkook says as they guide you toward the kitchen.

“Full access?”

“Yep,” Taehyung nods. “To all the equipment and stuff.” He raises his head, thoughtfully. “To be honest, I was a bit confused when he first said that, I didn’t know why he trusted you so much.” He glances at you with a smile. “Now I know.”

“Mhm,” you nod, only partially paying attention as you focus on walking. Truthfully, with each of the boys supporting either side of you, they’re actually making it harder for you to walk, but you don’t have the heart to say anything.

The kitchen is alive with quiet activity. Staff members work efficiently, seemingly unbothered by your group passing through. Two of the housemaids you saw earlier at breakfast glance up with warm smiles.

"Already getting to see the basement?" one of them, a woman Taehyung calls Iseul, asks.

Jungkook nods with mock seriousness. "She’s special, Iseul. VIP access and all."

Iseul laughs lightly. "She is special," she agrees, her voice warm.

The other maid, Ju-ri, adds with a teasing smile, "Pretty too."

Caught off guard, you feel a blush rise to your cheeks. Laughing softly, you reply, "Thanks."

"Don’t scare her off now," Iseul quips, giving you a wink.

You laugh again, shaking your head. "No, it’s okay."

The casual, friendly banter leaves you feeling more at ease, and soon the boys lead you to the back of the kitchen, stopping in front of the pantry doors.

Taehyung gestures grandly. "There are three entrances to the basement. One is in the east wing, one is through a hidden door near the main west wing corridor, and this—" he points at the pantry, "—is the third."

Jungkook open the pantry doors and it seems like nothing out of the ordinary. Stocked with usual pantry items inside. Then, he reaches above the doorframe, pressing his thumb to a scanner you hadn’t even noticed. A soft beep sounds, and the back shelves click and slide away.

You’re staring in awe. Sure, you’ve seen a lot of high tech stuff, naturally, but a secret entrance is never not cool to you.

He glances back at you with a grin. "We’ll get your fingerprint added once we’re down there."

The stairs are narrow and steep, but the space opens up dramatically at the bottom. Your jaw drops as you take in the massive underground expanse, a space that looks like it belongs in a high-budget spy film.

To your left is a double door leading somewhere you can’t yet see. Beside it, a full-sized boxing ring dominates the area. Opposite the ring, punching bags line the wall, and behind them is an impressive array of gym equipment. The center of the basement boasts a large, padded training floor where two men are sparring hand-to-hand, their movements fluid and precise. A small group stands nearby, watching and analyzing the fight.

But it’s the far-right side that truly catches your attention. An indoor shooting range, sleek and modern, takes up a significant portion of the wall. Beyond that, you notice a glass-encased room filled with an impressive collection of weapons.

Jungkook notices your wide-eyed expression. "Not bad, huh?" he asks, a touch of pride in his tone.

"It’s... incredible," you manage, still taking it all in.

Taehyung gestures expansively. "Alright, where do you want to start?"

You point toward the shooting range without hesitation.

"Good choice," Jungkook says with a grin. "You’d be pretty useless hand-to-hand with that leg anyway."

You laugh, playing along. "Hey, I could probably still land a punch — if the other guy stood still long enough."

Taehyung smirks. "We’ll put that to the test later."

As the three of you make your way toward the range, a few people glance your way, acknowledging you with nods before resuming their activities.

You’ve reached the room with the weapons, and up close to the glass doors, the details of the arsenal are even more striking. Beyond the firearms, you notice other equipment neatly arranged within.

Taehyung steps forward and unlocks the room with his thumbprint on the scanner. The double doors open with a quiet hiss, revealing the full extent of the armory. You glance at Taehyung and Jungkook. They simply nod and smile, gesturing for you to enter.

As you step in, a thrill runs through you. It feels a little like stepping into a treasure trove. The room is pristine and organized, the collection mounted with care that borders on reverence. The range is extensive -- everything from pistols to snipers to submachines. The walls, initially appearing solid, catch your eye as you notice subtle grooves. “Sliding drawers?” you murmur. Taehyung nods, confirming your suspicion.

“Everything you see here,” Jungkook says, motioning to the wall-mounted firearms, “has more behind it. This is just the accessible stuff.”

Walking deeper into the room, your attention is pulled to the massive island in the center. Encased beneath glass, one half displays knives in precise rows, gleaming under the lights. Fighting knives dominate, including Gerber Mark II’s that naturally draw your eye. Among them, a few throwing knives are neatly arranged, compact and deadly.

The other half showcases an array of equipment. Some pieces are familiar — lock picks, small surveillance bugs — while others remain mysterious.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Taehyung tilts his head. “Like what you see?”

“It’s impressive,” you admit, unable to hide your appreciation.

Jungkook steps inside, his hands in his pockets. “Take your pick.”

You glance between them, surprised. Jungkook notices your hesitation and answers your unspoken question. “It’s a matter of safety,” he explains. “Better to be prepared than caught off guard. You never know what might happen.”

“Makes sense,” you reply, scanning the selection. Finally, your eyes settle on a sleek semi-automatic handgun, similar to your trusty FNS Longslide.

Taehyung hums in approval as you pick it up, turning it over in your hands to get a feel for the weight.

“Good choice,” Jungkook says. “Let’s see how you do.”

The three of you step out to the shooting range. You grip the handgun tightly, familiarising yourself with its balance. The first shot surprises you with its recoil, a jolt of pain running through your bandaged wrist. Ignoring it, you adjust your grip and fire again. With each pull of the trigger, your aim sharpens, and soon you’re hitting the target with consistent precision.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle. “Impressive. Especially with that leg slowing you down.”

You smile faintly, catching your breath. “It’s a good thing I can shoot then..”

They let you stay longer, and as you continue, the act of shooting begins to feel oddly therapeutic. It’s strange, almost surreal, but as the tension in your body eases, you realise how much you’ve missed this sense of control and independence it brings.

Taehyung and Jungkook have joined in, turning the practice session into something of a friendly competition. At Jungkook’s suggestion, you try out a few unfamiliar weapons. One particularly sleek rifle catches your attention, and they guide you through its mechanics.

“You’re a fast learner,” Jungkook remarks, nodding in approval.

Taehyung steps to the side, retrieving a set of knives. “But can you do this?” he teases, lining up his target. With a flick of his wrist, the knife sails through the air, embedding itself in the bullseye of a distant dummy.

“Show off,” Jungkook mutters, smirking.

“Go on,” Taehyung encourages, handing you a knife.

You give it a try, and though your aim isn’t perfect, it’s respectable enough to earn a nod from Taehyung.

“You’ve got potential,” he says. “But it’s all about precision.” He demonstrates another throw, the knife hitting its mark effortlessly. “Forty yards, no problem.”

“Noted,” you say, watching his technique closely.

Before you can take another turn, a familiar voice interrupts. “You’ve got an injured leg and wrist, yet here you are.”

Turning, you see Seokjn walking toward you, his expression part amused, part exasperated.

You flash him a mischievous grin. “No rest for the wicked?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “That’s true enough. But don’t overdo it. It’s easy to get carried away with these two,” he adds, nodding toward Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Hey,” Jungkook protests, sending a knife flying across the range. It lands just off-center. He frowns, picking up another one. “We learn from our elders.”

Jin smirks. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously,” he turns to you, his gaze softening, “we should check your bandages. Come with me?”

“Sure,” you say, stepping off the range. As you walk with him, you glance back at Taehyung and Jungkook, who are already turning their session into a full-blown contest.

“Competitive, aren’t they?” you remark.

“You have no idea,” Jin replies, smiling.

“You seen this part yet?” He nods in the direction of the double doors.

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

“Ah, it’s not hugely exciting.” He opens the double doors, and you enter into a wide corridor. It leads off somewhere, but to the left is another set of double doors.

As you get closer, Jin opens the doors, and you see it opens up to what you can only describe as a doctor’s clinic. Your family home had something similar, but it wasn’t anywhere near as big.

“This place has everything you could need in case you get injured. Of course, Jimin has links with a few doctors stationed at different hospitals in Seoul, but we prefer to stay off the radar.”

Approaching a locked shelf, your eyes skim through the names of many medicines. “This is a pretty extensive collection.”

“Much needed too.”

Turning around, you glance at him.

“Like you said, no rest for the wicked.”

You smile faintly, acknowledging his humorous response. Though, really, it only has a dark meaning in this context.

There’s a small examination couch opposite the room. As you limp over, Seokjin meets you there and adjusts the back higher for you to rest.

Swinging your legs, you lean back comfortably and drag the hem of your shorts up.

Seokjin makes quick work removing the bandages. He cleans the wound and places a fresh dressing.

“It’s healing well.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Sitting forward, you glance down at your leg, grimacing when you see the gash.

“It looks worse than it is,” he says, placing a new dressing on it.

Slowly, you squeeze your muscles, only to inevitably wince when you feel a spark of pain.

“Well, you still need to take it pretty easy,” Seokjin says, placing a hand on your shoulder to lay you back before he starts on your wrist. “But it’s doing well.”

“How long do you think it’ll be until it’s fully healed?”

“If you look after it properly, enough rest, eat well, sleep well, I’d say three weeks, maybe four.”

Four weeks. That’s not bad. You nod, accepting your current fate. “Can I at least come down here occasionally?”

Seokjin shrugs, slowly unwrapping the bandage on your wrist. “For the sake of your sanity, to shoot only, and to see me of course.”

Your lips turn into a smile. “Thanks.”

Just as you sink back into the cushion, you hear a soft beep, and the doors slide open.

Jimin enters, his eyes immediately finding yours. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, still smiling from your prognosis.

“Jimin,” Seokjin says, glancing over his shoulder and nodding toward you. “Sit. I’m almost done with Y/N.”

Though Jimin commands everyone else around here, he takes that as an order and nods, walking toward the middle of the room. He looks your way again as he pulls his jacket off, placing it neatly over a chair. He wears a shoulder holster over his shirt, the black leather housing a gun you can’t see from where you’re sitting. He removes this too. “Is everything all good, Y/N?” Despite his usual calm, steel-edged demeanour, the concern in his tone is evident.

“Great,” you smile, glancing at Seokjin for reassurance.

As Jimin approaches, he begins unfastening a few buttons at the top of his shirt, standing beside Seokjin. You try not to stare curiously at the skin he’s just revealed, but you can’t help wondering why he’s here. Is he hurt too?

“Yes, she’s healing well,” Seokjin confirms. “However, we need to make sure she takes it easy.” He throws you a pointed look. “I saw you eyeing up the training floor.”

“Hey, I was just looking,” you reply defensively, though a small smile breaks through.

Jimin’s lips quirk upward as well. “I’m not surprised. I figured you’d like the basement.”

“It’s impressive. Do you spend much time down here?”

“I probably should come down to train more.”

Seokjin scoffs lightly. “You train enough, Jimin.” Despite his humorous tone, there’s an undertone of concern, a subtle weight that shows his elder brotherly care.

Jimin doesn’t respond, his gaze falling instead to Seokjin’s hands as they finish bandaging your wrist.

“Come on, sit,” Seokjin gestures to the space next to you as he stands to disinfect his hands at the sink.

Jimin obeys, unbuttoning his shirt further but not entirely. As he pulls the fabric off one shoulder, your eyes land on the bandage underneath.

It’s stained with dark red, almost brown – a clear sign of blood that has dried and seeped through.

“You’re hurt?” Your voice mirrors his earlier concern, soft and tinged with worry, as you lean forward to get a better look. Seokjin reappears with fresh gloves, moving efficiently to tend to Jimin’s wound.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, something unreadable flickers across his expression. Then he smiles – a small, quiet curve of his lips, soft but sure.

It makes you pause, the way he’s looking at you. “What?”

As though caught in a moment of reverie, Jimin shakes his head. “Sorry. You just reminded me of—” He stops, shaking his head again, brushing it off. His gaze drops to his injury. “I’m fine. It’s only a scratch.”

His eyes linger on you a moment too long, and you feel yourself growing self-conscious under his steady attention.

Breaking eye contact, you look down at the wound. It’s not as severe as the one on your thigh, but you know it still stings. “That looks a bit bigger than a scratch.”

Your gaze shifts slightly, catching sight of another scar on his arm, just below the fresh bandage. Partially hidden beneath his shirt sleeve, it’s far more prominent and the significant scarring that you can see gives away the severity of what it once was.

Jimin glances down at his shoulder. “Well, it doesn’t hurt any more than a scratch, at least,” he counters lightly.

“When did it happen?” you ask, thoughts flashing back to the night in your home. You distinctly remember him injuring Minjun, but not himself. Then it clicks — he must have been hurt yesterday when he left to meet the Takahashis. “Yesterday?”

Jimin hesitates, just briefly, before nodding. “Yeah.”

“The Takahashis?”

His brows lift, surprised.

“I saw you leaving,” you explain. “Yoongi told me where you were going.”

“Ah.” Jimin exhales softly, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Yeah. It wasn’t anything planned. One of the Cheongs’ men who was in charge of the shipment didn’t realize who we were.”

“It’s a mistake he won’t make again,” Seokjin interjects, his tone clipped as he cleans the wound with saline.

Jimin doesn’t flinch despite the pain, though you catch the way his knuckles tighten against the chair and his jaw sets. He inhales slowly, evenly, letting out a measured breath as Seokjin finishes.

You glance back at Jimin. “Did you kill him?”

He shakes his head. “No. He learned his lesson,” Jimin replies, his voice low and solemn.

Before you can ask more, Jimin’s phone buzzes sharply.

One look at the screen, and he picks up. "Yes," he answers.

You can make out the faint sound of someone speaking on the other end, but you’re too far to discern the words.

“Okay,” he says simply, ending the call and setting the phone aside.

Seokjin glances at Jimin, understanding passing silently between them. “I’ll greet them,” Seokjin says, already moving to wash his hands.

Jimin nods. “Thank you.”

Without another word, Seokjin leaves, the quiet sound of the door closing behind him.

Left alone, you watch as Jimin buttons up his shirt once more, his movements deliberate, though he doesn’t seem in a hurry.

“Did you get to pick out a weapon?” Jimin’s voice is soft, breaking the quiet hum of the room.

“Yeah.” You nod toward the table on the opposite side where your choice rests, placed with care.

He follows your gaze, his lips curving slightly. “Nice choice.”

“What about you?”

Jimin shifts, reaching down to pull a gun from the holster at his side. The semi-automatic pistol sits in his hand like it belongs there — perfectly balanced, steady, and natural, as though it’s an extension of him rather than just a tool.

“Nice choice,” you echo, your tone light but genuine.

He chuckles softly as he replaces the gun, securing the strap with a practiced pull. You take the moment to ease yourself off the examination couch carefully before standing.

“Do you always carry that around?” you ask, curiosity slipping into your tone.

Jimin adjusts the holster against his chest, his movements deliberate, precise. His gaze finds yours, and there’s a quiet intensity in his expression that makes the air feel heavier. “I feel like I have to.”

You nod slowly. Turning, you reach for your phone on the counter, the brief moment of stillness settling over the space between you.

He lingers, watching you in silence, before asking, “Did you ever feel the need to stay armed?”

The question catches you off guard, and you glance back at him. There’s something in his gaze — an honest curiosity that feels disarming. It mirrors the questions you’ve often wanted to ask him but never have.

“Yes.” You let the word sit for a moment, then add, “I had far less reason to, but yes.”

He nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I get it.”

You begin to walk, and he falls into step beside you. He stays close, his posture subtly protective, just as he had this morning.

“Did you ever have to use it?” he asks quietly, his voice barely above a murmur.

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“A few times.”

Your eyes turn to him, searching his expression, but his features remain unreadable. There’s a faint smile at the corner of his lips, masking the meaning of his answer, before he looks forward again. You don’t press him further.

As you approach the door, Jimin slows his steps. “Are you okay to head back to Taehyung and Jungkook?”

“Yeah,” you say, offering a small smile.

“I’m sure they’ve still got a lot they want to show you.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you chuckle softly. “I just can’t wait until this is all healed so I can do more.”

He stops at the door, turning to face you fully. “I remember you being pretty good at hand-to-hand combat,” he says, his tone soft with nostalgia. “Even when you were young, you’d knock me down with a solid roundhouse every time we played.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the memories surfacing. “Yeah, until you figured out how to block and floor me.”

Jimin chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah... sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, your smile lingering. Your gaze falls behind him to the far end of the corridor that you saw as you enetered earlier, and your curiosity gets the better of you,

“What’s down there?”

He glances over his shoulder, and when he looks back at you, the smile on his face is gone, replaced by something more guarded. “I can show you,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost cautious.

“Don’t you have a meeting?” you ask, glancing at him.

“They can wait.”

“Sure.”

Jimin hesitates, his expression shifting. “I have to warn you, though — it’s not pretty.”

You look at him, confused.

“Minjun is in there,” he says quietly.

Immediately, understanding dawns. It must be where they’re keeping him. You recall Jimin’s chilling words after Minjun killed Seojun. I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.

“Oh.” The word falls softly from your lips.

Jimin nods, watching you carefully.

You think back to how merciless Minjun had been, how he killed Seojun without hesitation. It likely wasn’t the first time. He’s probably killed so many of Jimin’s loved ones, and part of you feels certain he’s getting what he deserves.

But another part of you is aware that this is something you're not familiar with. Your father had always shielded you from this side of your world, keeping the darkness at bay. Even after he died and you moved to Namwon, you only saw death once, and upon returning to Seoul and choosing to work quietly as you had with Yoongi definitely changed things — you’ve hurt and killed others in pursuit of vengeance �� but this... keeping someone alive solely for revenge, dragging it out... It feels different.

The thought makes your stomach twist, and from the way Jimin studies you, you know he can sense it. He’s seen far worse than you ever have.

You remember the raw look in his eyes as he knelt beside Seojun’s body. The memory stirs something in you, a a flare of indignation takes away your hesitation.

Sure of your decision, you meet his gaze. “I want to see.”

Jimin’s eyes soften, his jaw relaxing slightly. “Okay.”

He extends his arm without a word, offering his support. You take it, leaning into his steadiness as you both move down the dim corridor.

At the end of the hall, Jimin unlocks the door with his thumbprint, and it slides open to reveal a larger room. The space is dark, with three heavy doors on the opposite wall, each one resembling a prison cell.

The room’s air feels colder. Two tables flank the sides, and as your eyes fall on their contents, your stomach churns. Knives, pliers, and other devices you wouldn’t even be able to imagine the function of.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s voice pulls you back. His hand gently covers yours where it rests on his arm.

You look at him and find his eyes round with concern.

“It’s a lot, I know,” he murmurs. “We can leave.”

You shake your head firmly. “No, it’s okay.” Your gaze drifts to a bucket beneath the table filled with something murky and white. “What’s that?”

Jimin follows your line of sight and hesitates before answering, “Salt water.”

“Salt to wound,” you say faintly.

He nods once, his expression unreadable.

Your attention shifts to the doors, noting the small window latches on each one. “Which one?”

“The middle,” Jimin replies.

Together, you move toward it. He stays close, steadying you when needed, until you reach the door. At the latch, he opens it for you, stepping aside to let you look inside.

You rise on your tiptoes, peering through the narrow glass pane. Minjun lies on his side, arms bound separately by chains that stretch to the walls. He’s been stripped to his underwear, his body covered in cuts, bruises, and welts. Little of his skin remains untouched. In the corner, a bowl of bread and water sits untouched on the floor. .

“Has he said anything?” you ask, your voice low. “About that day? Or anything else?”

Jimin nods. He watches your face carefully, his observant eyes catching the change in your expression. You want to know more.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he says softly as you lower yourself back to the ground and he closes the latch. “Anything you want to know. Soon.”

You frown, confused, meeting his gaze.

Jimin pauses, the weight of his thoughts flickering in his eyes. “I just need a little time to finalize a few things.” His voice is quiet, but steady, and the sincerity in his tone reassures you.

You nod, trusting him. “Okay.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer before gesturing back toward the hall. “Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s go back up.”

“I’ve already paid more than half the price and given the recent units I supplied you with, I think you ought to let the rest go.”

Jimin sighs heavily, jaw shifting as he tries to stay calm and not snap at the infuriating man in front of him.

“Akira, I’ve already told you, the units you supplied me with were faulty, and I made that deal out of goodwill since I had no real need for them and you needed a buyer to help pay off your earlier debts with the Tanaka’s.”

“So?” Akira says, aloof. “I didn’t insist you buy from me, that was your choice, and I can assure you any damage to the guns occurred in your run, not mine.”

“No, the guns were checked at the port and the whole shipment damaged upon arrival,” Jimin says through gritted teeth. “Not to forget the issues your men caused at the site. I’m not negotiating with you here Akira, you’re going to pay for the rest of the drugs you bought, otherwise the Takahashi’s will be cut off and your debt with us will triple.”

“Ooh, now that’s mean,” Yasuko quips, almost mockingly, turning around from admiring the glass ornaments on the shelf.

Jimin ignores her, keeping his eyes fixed on Akira who stares right back at him, daringly.

“Then I suppose we would have to cut you off as well,” Akira challenges, raising his head.

From the corner of his eye, Jimin catches how Yasuko perks up at this, clearly only interested in the possible confrontation that might occur between the two.

“The Jericho 941’s?” Jimin asks.

Akira nods smugly, leaning back in his seat.

But Jimin just shrugs. “That won’t be a problem.”

Visibly angered by Jimin’s nonchalance, Akira stiffens up. “What?! Who else might supply you with them? I have precedence over the rarest materials in all of Japan and South Korea!”

“Clearly not,” Yasuko snorts, striding across Jimin’s office in her high heels to stand beside the chair her older husband is seated in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Get off me woman,” he hisses, oblivious to the way Yasuko rolls her eyes tiredly as he looks back at Jimin. “Tell me,” he demands.

“Well he won’t tell you if you don’t ask nicely,” Yasuko gibes, taking a seat in the large arm chair, kicking her legs up onto the mahogany table and she remains staring at Jimin, a coy smile on her face. “But I am interested,” she says smoothly, “the Jericho 941’s are more than difficult to obtain and incredibly valuable, and they’ve been indispensable to you over the years so why would you so easily cut us off… if not for another seller?”

Jimin looks at her wordlessly. He understands why Akira keeps her around. She’s almost 30 years younger than the old man and when they first married four years ago, the marriage was clearly not one of love. Jimin assumed she was only interested in money but she comes from a wealthy family herself, and there’s nothing kind between her and Akira given they both cheat on each other all the time, so the only other reason she might’ve stayed would be power.

She’s smarter than Akira, and much more sly too. This is evident since the reputation of the Takahashi’s has grown, making them one of the most well known families of Japan, though not the top.

However despite Yasuko’s sharp skill, Jimin finds her incredibly intolerable. Maybe because she’s always trying to get him into bed with her.

“I simply have no need for them anymore,” Jimin shrugs. “I’ve found better replacements that my men prefer to the Jericho’s, and so—” he turns to Akira sharply “—I have little need for you now, but I’ll gladly keep paying for the shipments of tac gear if you wish.”

Nostrils flaring, Akira slams his hand onto the table. “That’s fucking bullshit. You’re full of bullshit just like your father was! Neither of you know how to keep up your end of a goddamn deal!”

The silence in the room is deafening, and Hoseok and Namjoon watch carefully between Jimin and Akira for any sudden movements. Even Yasuko takes her legs off the table, brows raised slightly as she observes Jimin, knowing her husband is too cowardly to do anything himself.

Jimin scoffs lightly, his lack of emotion seeming dangerous to everyone else in the room. Pushing his seat back, he stands up tall behind his desk and glares down at the old man in his seat.

“My father is no longer here, so to mention him is irrelevant,” Jimin says calmly. “You’re dealing with me, and if you’re not happy, I’ve already made it clear that I have no qualms cutting ties with you.”

Akira’s eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw twitching involuntarily as he grits his teeth, his face flushing a deep shade of red.

Jimin notices, but pays no mind. Instead, he speaks slower, ensuring the threat in every word comes across loud and clear. “Should you still have a problem, I have an untouched supply of M249’s in one of my warehouses… I’m sure my men are dying to use them.”

Yasuko smirks, rising to step closer to Akira. “What d’you have to say to that, Takahashi?” she says, patronisingly.

Even between these two families, Akira knows that the influence of the Park’s far exceeds that of the Takahashi’s. Without any real force behind him, Akira would be a fool to lose Jimin.

Akira scowls at Yasuko, before shooting a look at Jimin. “The Lee’s might have more need for me then, and with their established trafficking organisation, one might find them to be more valuable than you,” he spits.

Yasuko rolls her eyes.

Gaze sharpening, Jimin fights back his urge to pull out his gun and shoot the old man in the balls. It’s not like he hasn’t already suspected Akira of working alongside the Lee’s.

“Akira,” Jimin says coldly, clenching his jaw and doing little to hide his anger at the old man’s words. “As someone who has entertained your company for two years as a formality, I must tell you, your abhorrent disposition has a way of showing on your face and it’s most uninviting for those you wish to deal with… you ought to keep that in mind when you visit your new partner, Mr Lee.”

Akira’s face drops.

“Oh come now,” Yasuko tuts, “let’s not be hasty—“

“Shut up woman,” Akira seethes, “the Lee’s have alre—“

“The Lee’s are corrupt and vile!” she interrupts sharply.

“We’re all corrupt!” Akira snaps back at his wife, the veins in his forehead looking as though they might pop.

Yasuko pays no more attention to him and begins walking slowly to Jimin.

“That’s true, but the Lee’s have less capital and their motivations are misplaced. Besides, we would be stupid to let go of someone as influential as Mr Park...” she walks behind his desk and trails her hand across his upper back, stopping right behind him to speak low in his ear, but loud enough for everyone to still hear. “...After all, he is the most powerful man in all of South Korea, mighty handsome too, and I imagine we’d be helpless without him.”

Jimin tenses, uncomfortable with the guileful woman standing so close to him. The overbearing stench of her perfume fills his nostrils, making him feel somewhat nauseous.

Hoseok and Namjoon exchange glances, giving Yasuko a look of disgust.

Pulling away from her, Jimin walks over to one of the cabinets in his office, and after a moment, he pulls out a file for his contracts with the Takahashi’s and throws it on the desk.

Yasuko frowns and walks around to pick it up. Seeing what it is, she sighs loudly. “Jimin, I assure you there’s no need for this. Akira is being reckless and he’s just having a bad day—“

“Don’t talk for me wo—“

“I will talk for you since you’re fucking incapable of keeping your stupid mouth shut!”

Akira glares at her before mumbling under his breath and looking away resignedly.

Jimin sighs, his patience running short with the Takahashi’s. He’s been witness to the husband and wife arguing many times before, and each time he wonders why he still deals with them until he remembers he needs to do everything he can to keep the Lee’s from gaining power and a stronghold in Japan; that’s something the Park’s have over them, and it’s proven most beneficial, especially in helping him get closer to his new goal.

“Jimin, you’ll get the payment within two months, and I’ll get Hachiro to draft a new contract fo—“

“No need,” Jimin cuts in, taking a seat at his desk. “I’ll get Namjoon to draft the contract and I’ll be sending it over to you.”

Yasuko pauses, but eventually nods. “Very well, and since we’re here, we might as well discuss the terms in person.”

Jimin nods curtly, giving Namjoon a weary look as his friend approaches him. “You can discuss the terms with Namjoon,” he says to the disparate couple in front of him.

Yasuko watches Jimin with sharp eyes for a few seconds but he remains uninterested, looking down at the desk while listening to Namjoon, and eventually she rolls her eyes, stalking over to the window as she too, listens to Namjoon.

He reads out their current contract, and Jimin’s mind wanders off, recalling Akira’s comment on the Lee’s established trafficking organization. It infuriates him to still deal with Akira knowing he would consider cutting ties with him to go to the Lee’s, while knowing exactly what they’re involved in. Jimin knows that there’s little good in most of his businesses, but the Lee’s crossed a line that Jimin would never cross. .

“Excuse me,” Yasuko interrupts carelessly, turning on her heel from the window and walking across the room, “I need to use the restroom but please carry on.”

Jimin frowns. “I’ll have Hoseok escort y—“

“No need,” she cuts him off airily, waving her hand. “I’m a very capable lady Jimin — of many things — and you might discover that one day if you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

Akira grimaces, giving his wife a detestful look, knowing what she was alluding to. “Licentious woman,” he mutters, though she pays no attention to him and exits the room, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

Jimin ignores her comment and turns back to Namjoon to continue.

The east wing feels different than you remember from years ago. The halls, once brooding and heavy, now seem lighter, more modernised. The subtle upgrades — better lighting, fresh paint, and the absence of a few foreboding portraits — make it feel less like a haunted memory and more like a polished and comfortable space.

Jungkook and Taehyung lead you through with casual ease, pointing out their respective offices.

“This one’s mine,” Taehyung gestures to a door with a clean, minimalist plaque bearing his name. Inside, you glimpse a space that is an effortless mix of his sophistication and eccentricity.

“And this is where I spend too much time,” Jungkook adds, showing his office just across the hall. His is sleek and efficient, a reflection of his meticulous nature.

Stepping across the hall, you look at some of the other open offices. “You make it sound boring.”

“Well, it can be, except when we’re out on jobs,” Taehyung replies with a smirk. “But Jimin doesn’t let us slack off.”

“He doesn’t let anyone slack off,” Jungkook quips as you continue walking.

As you round a corner, the sharp click of heels against marble draws your attention. A woman appears, striking in her elegance and deliberate in her movements. Her eyes sweep over you with interest, lingering a moment too long before a knowing smile curves her lips.

From your right, you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exchanging a subtle look.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she says, her voice smooth and laced with intrigue. “And who might you be?”

You meet her gaze. “I could ask the same about you.”

Her smile widens, as if she appreciates the response. “Fair enough. You’re certainly… unexpected.” She tilts her head, her gaze sharp as she studies you. “Quite pretty, too. What brings you to the Park Estate?”

You shrug lightly, keeping your tone as casual as your posture. “A visit. What about you?”

Her smile tightens slightly, her sharpness met with your calm deflection. “Oh, I’ve business here. Akira and I are discussing some arrangements with Jimin.”

Her eyes flick briefly to your leg where the bandage is peeking out below your shorts just enough to see.. “That injury,” she says, her voice faux-sympathetic. “What a pity. I do hope it hasn’t been too much trouble for you.”

You feel the weight of Jungkook and Taehyung’s gazes on you, both of them slightly tense. Her comment makes you wonder — could she have had something to do with the attack? Her general demeanour tells you she knows more than she’s letting on. It occurs to you that when Yoongi mentioned the Takahashis, he also named Akira. She must be one of them.

Still, you don’t let your thoughts show. Instead, you reply smoothly, mirroring her tone. “Not at all. Sometimes the most inconvenient things turn out to be the least important.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, but before she can respond, the sound of approaching footsteps pulls her attention.

From another corridor, Jimin and Akira appear. Jimin’s gaze immediately finds yours, and for a moment, concern flickers across his face. Akira, on the other hand, stops beside Yasuko and studies you openly, his curiosity evident. He says nothing, letting the scene play out.

Yasuko turns her attention back to you, her interest seemingly renewed. “You’re quite composed, aren’t you?” she remarks. “I imagine it takes a certain… calibre of person to fit in here.”

“Perhaps,” you reply with an easy shrug. “Or perhaps it’s just about knowing when not to overstep.”

Jimin’s concern vanishes as quickly as it came when he hears your response, a flicker of pride crossing his expression.

Yasuko’s eyes flash briefly with something close to irritation, but she quickly masks it with a chuckle. “Well, Akira, I think it’s time we take our leave.” She glances back at you one last time, her smile sharp and unreadable. “A pleasure meeting you. I hope we’ll speak again.”

“Likewise,” you say evenly, watching as she and Akira turn and walk away.

Jimin nods at Hoseok, who moves to escort them out.

Once they’re gone, your gaze meets Jimin’s, and he’s already sporting a small, amused smile before Namjoon arrives with a tablet in hand. Without another word, Jimin follows Namjoon down a corridor, his focus shifting to business.

Jungkook and Taehyung exchange glances before Taehyung speaks. “You handled that well.”

Jungkook nods. “She’s sharp, and she knows how to get under people’s skin. Not many keep their cool around her.”

“Who is she?” you ask, your tone light but curious.

“Takahashi Yasuko,” Taehyung replies.

“Oh.”

They watch you for a moment, but when you don’t ask anything else, Jungkook claps his hands together. “Alright, I’m starving. Shall we get some lunch?”

You nod, only now realizing just how hungry you are as a soft rumble from your stomach makes you smile lightly. It’s definitely time to eat.

Taehyung grins, gesturing for you to follow. “Agreed. Let’s go.”

A few days later

You’re tired tonight, having wandered the estate gardens for longer than you should’ve. The familiar paths brought back memories, and when you found Jimin’s mother’s garden again, it felt like you’d stepped back in time. The door had been unlocked this time, unlike when you were a child, and you couldn’t help but linger there, memories returning and you found yourself thinking of Jimin often. You’ve barely seen him in the past few days, and his absence at meals hasn’t gone unnoticed. It’s left you wondering if he’s eating well.

As you approach your room, you spot Ara stepping out.

“Good evening, Miss L/N,” she greets, her voice warm but professional.

“Good evening, Ara,” you reply with a smile.

“I just had some housekeeping to do,” she explains.

“That’s okay.”

Her lips curl into a small smile. “I also added some of the items you requested �� the fluffy socks.” There’s a playful gleam in her eyes. “I’m glad to see some things never change.”

You chuckle, a little caught off guard but also comforted by her familiarity — she definitely remembers you. “Well, I find comfort in the small things.”

“I’m glad,” she says gently. “We could all do with some comfort.”

“I agree. Speaking of, I was wondering if I could help you in the kitchen sometime?”

Ara tilts her head, a flicker of confusion passing over her face.

“Before I came here, I owned a bakery,” you explain. “I didn’t realise how much I’d made a hobby of it, but I’ve actually been missing it.”

Her expression softens as understanding dawns. “Ah. Of course. It’s Iseul who does most of the baking but you can join us whenever you like.”

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause before she adds, “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

“Thank you,” you say again, unsure of how else to respond.

Ara hesitates, then steps closer and places a hand on your shoulder. Her voice is quieter now, more personal. “I was very sorry to hear what happened to your family.”

The words hit with a bittersweet ache. All you can do is smile faintly.

“But I’m glad you’re here, Y/N,” she says with a gentle squeeze to your shoulder. Her kind eyes linger on you for a moment before she steps back, nodding slightly before continuing down the corridor.

Left alone, you exhale slowly, her words echoing softly in your mind. A faint smile touches your lips as you turn into your room, the quiet stillness wrapping around you like a familiar embrace.

Maybe, just maybe, you might find the comforts of home here.

4th February 2015

Jimin stood, sweat slicking his skin, his fists pounding against the punching bag. The rhythmic thud of leather meeting fabric was a welcome distraction, allowing him to release the built-up tension in his muscles. He’d been working hard, trying to tune out the growing noise in his head, but the weight of his father’s expectations never quite left him.

His phone went off on the bench across the training floor, pulling him from his thoughts. Pulling off his glove, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand and went to get it, squinting at the screen. It was his father.

Jihoon.

He answered the call with a deep breath, trying to steady his pulse.

“Jimin.” His father’s voice was curt, as usual. “Come to my office. I need to see you," he said, never awaiting an answer before cutting down.

Jimin pocketed the phone, cleaning himself off a little before he headed toward the East Wing, his footsteps echoing down the long, dimly lit corridor leading to his father’s office.

As he passed, his eyes landed on Kwan and Duri, the two brutish men who had long been fixtures of his father’s inner circle. They were leaving the office, their hulking figures filling the narrow hallway.

They sneered at him, and though Jimin didn’t flinch, he felt a small unease he couldn’t explain. Normally, they’d just ignore him. This time, their gaze lingered.

Jihoon sat behind his desk, one arm resting on the chair’s armrest, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t bother looking up as Jimin stepped inside.

Jimin wasted no time with pleasantries. He stepped forward and asked, “Where are they going?” referring to Kwan and Duri.

Jihoon glanced up at him, the same cold expression on his face. “I have some work to be done.”

“What work?” Jimin asked, voice steady, but with a sharper edge than before. His years in the family had hardened him, and now, he was no longer the soft boy who had once been shielded from the grim realities of their world.

Jihoon’s eyes flickered for a brief moment, but his expression was impassive, betraying no hint of emotion. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” Jimin spoke curtly, meeting his father’s gaze head-on.

Jihoon leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his glass with his gaze unwavering. “You’ll find out soon enough."

Jimin studied him, his father’s mask never faltering. Any work his dad needs done is usually tasked to Jimin. This secrecy is something new and it plants a seed of suspicion in Jimin.

“Why not tell me now?”

“I give the orders, Jimin,” he said, his tone final, “My men obey them. Don’t probe further.”

Jimin clenched his jaw, his expression neutral as always, but with a hint of defiance beneath. “So what order do you have for me?”

“You’re to come to Suwon with me, tonight. We leave at nine.”

Jimin’s face betrayed nothing as he absorbed the information. No questions, no further probing. His father had given him his orders, and he had learned long ago not to ask too much.

He turned to leave, but just as he reached the door, Jihoon’s voice stopped him.

“Bring your gun,” Jihoon ordered.

Jimin nodded once, his jaw tight, and left without another word.

The casino in Suwon was old, the neon lights flickering weakly. The walls were worn, the carpet stained, and the sense of decay was palpable. But the men inside didn’t care. Corruption seeped into every corner, like the thick, bitter smell of whiskey in the air.

Jimin knew this wasn’t just a place for gambling — there were worse things happening in the back rooms and he’d seen enough to know — but he also knew of his fathers plans to close down this place, so he wasn't surprised at its state.

He followed his father down the corridor, passing the few men who looked up briefly before realizing who it was and retreating back into the haze of smoke and bad deals. Jihoon moved like a shadow, and Jimin mirrored him, his gaze darting around, taking in everything. The walls were lined with old pictures and cheap wallpaper, but they didn’t care. None of them did.

They descended into the basement, the air growing heavier, thicker with the scent of money, sweat, and sex. The basement was modestly sized, but cluttered with tables and money-counting machines. Men sat around, counting stacks of cash with bags of white everywhere, while two girls leaned against the wall, their eyes distant, as though this scene was nothing new.

Jimin’s eyes flicked over the men, but he didn’t speak, he just stood there, waiting for his father’s next move. Jihoon was calm, but there was something in his eyes — something colder than Jimin had ever seen before.

At the far left, Kwan and Duri stood over a man in bloodstained clothes kneeling on the floor, his hands bound behind his back, a sack over his head.

Jihoon had entered without a word, his presence enough to silence the room. He nodded subtly, and everyone else in the room filed out — except Jimin, Kwan, and Duri.

Jihoon took a seat at a table, his eyes flicking to the bottle of whiskey in front of him. He uncorked it with a quick motion and took a long, deliberate swig. The silence in the room was deafening. He lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag as he looked at his son.

Jimin stood motionless, his gaze flicking between his father and the bound man, a sickening sense of anticipation churning in his gut.

Jihoon nodded at Duri, who stepped forward. With one swift motion, Duri yanked the sack off the man’s head. The man’s face was a mess of bruises, but his expression was eerily blank. He stared ahead, too weak to respond, too beaten to show emotion.

Jimin’s stomach coiled at the sight, but he didn’t look away.

Still, his father remained silent, content to let the tension hang in the air. Jihoon’s gaze flickered to Kwan and Duri again. Another nod. And the beatings began.

Jimin felt the bile rise in his throat as the sound of fists landing on flesh filled the room. It was never easy, no matter how many times he’d witnessed this.

Kwan and Duri relished the violence, drawing it out — drawing pain out. Jimin knew the difference. He’d seen these men kill with their bare hands in seconds, so the fact they were prolonging this torture meant something far worse.

He didn’t know what though. He’d seen man’s life end in this way more than a few times, but he’d never been dragged out of Seoul for this purpose.

Jimin didn’t watch the brothers. Instead, he stood still, fists clenched at his sides, his face a mask of detachment as the man’s weak cries echoed through the room.

Jimin looked at his father, eyes cold but filled with a quiet fury. “What’s the point of this?”

Jihoon didn’t even flinch at the question. He exhaled smoke slowly and looked at Jimin, his face impassive. “Stop them if you want.”

Jimin’s gaze flickered to Kwan and Duri. For a split second, he wondered if this was some kind of trap. But he didn’t care. He’d had enough.

In a fluid movement, Jimin strode forward and grabbed Kwan by the arm, yanking him away from the man on the floor. Kwan stumbled back, disoriented, and before he could regain his balance, Jimin delivered a solid punch to his face, knocking him back.

Duri reacted immediately, swinging a wild punch, but Jimin was quicker. He blocked it and countered with a brutal hit of his own. Duri stumbled back, and before he could retaliate, Jimin slid under Kwan's returning guard, delivering a series of strikes to Kwan’s midsection before locking him in a chokehold.

Kwan struggled, trying to headbutt Jimin, but Jimin drove his knee into Kwan’s leg, knocking him off balance.

Duri growled, eyes full of fury, but before he could launch himself at Jimin, Jihoon’s voice cut through the air. “Wait.”

Duri froze, glancing from Jimin, still holding Kwan in a chokehold, to Jihoon, who was watching the scene with a mix of amusement and a flicker of something darker.

Kwan’s resistance faded, and Jimin released him just before he passed out, leaving him crumpled on the floor, gasping for air.

Jihoon looked back at Duri. With a single gesture, he gave his permission for him to continue.

Jimin snarled, having had enough. In a swift motion, he pulled his gun out and aimed at Duri's head.

Jihoon raised a brow, his expression unchanged.

“You think I won’t do it?” Jimin said, cocking the gun.

Jihoon shrugged. “I have my doubts.”

Jimin shook his head, his voice detached. “Do you forget you raised me?” He shot Duri in the knee with only a sideways glance, the bullet meeting its mark.

Duri shouted out in pain, his body slumping against the wall behind him, his face twisted in agony, while his brother moved to lunge at Jimin.

"Stop." Jihoon levelled Jimin's gaze and held up a hand to stop Kwan.

Kwan stopped short, pleading on his brother's behalf. “Sir, please.”

But Jihoon didn’t acknowledge the plea. “Leave. Back to Seoul, now,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Kwan glared at Jimin but said nothing as he obeyed and took his leeave.

The atmosphere was thick with unspoken anger as father and son glared at each other. Jimin's rage was palpable, his jaw clenched, tight, while Jihoon stood unmoving, his face as cold and calculating as ever. Jimin could feel the weight of the situation — there was more to this than he'd been told.

Jihoon stepped up to Jimin, his face unreadable. “Do it,” he muttered, almost too softly. “I know you want to.”

Jimin lowered the gun, his gaze fixed on his father. “No.”

Jihoon laughed darkly, stepping back. “Then kill the other one.”

He turned toward the bound man, who was shaking now, tears streaming down his beaten face. “I said no,” Jimin repeated, his voice steady, his resolve hardening.

“He betrayed us, Jimin. Kill him.”

“I don’t know him.”

“You’re right. You don’t.” Jihoon's voice went quiet. He stared at Jimin, unblinking. “But your mother did.”

Jimin froze. His mind went blank, but his eyes stayed locked on the battered man. His gut twisted as he felt a flicker of realisation.

Jihoon watched him carefully as he took a step closer to the man. “Oh, she knew him very well,” Jihoon murmured, before pulling out a gun and shooting the man between the eyes. The body fell to the floor with a sickening thud. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Jimin’s blood ran cold. “Where is she?” he demanded, voice trembling slightly.

“Ask Duri.”

Without thinking, Jimin raised the gun, aiming it at his father. “Where is mom?!”

Jihoon took a step forward, his gaze intense. His hand slowly pushed the barrel of the gun away, directing it toward Duri, who was still slumped against the wall. “I told you. You should’ve killed him.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. He was in disbelief, his body trembling with barely contained fury. He glanced at Duri, then back to his father. The realisation hit him hard — Duri killed her.

Jihoon leaned in, his voice low, almost a whisper in Jimin’s ear. “He killed her.”

Jimin stood there, numb for a moment, the weight of his father’s words sinking in. His sharp, heavy breaths were the only sound in the room as his mind spun. His mother was dead. Duri killed her.

One glance at Duri told Jimin everything he needed to know — for the first time, Jimin saw Duri cowering, afraid. But he didn't care. He killed her.

Jimin lunged at Duri, slamming the butt of the gun into his face with a sickening crack. Duri staggered back, his body reeling from the blow, but Jimin didn’t stop.

His fists smashed into Duri’s face, his chest, his stomach. Jimin didn’t care that Duri tried to shield himself — his fists pounded down on Duri’s arms, his legs, every part of him that Jimin could reach. The sound of his fists colliding with flesh, the thud of Duri’s body hitting the ground, filled Jimin’s ears, drowning out all thoughts except for the burning, consuming need for vengeance.

Duri struggled, weakly trying to fight back, but Jimin was too fast. As Duri threw a wild punch, Jimin dodged it effortlessly, countering with a brutal knee to his midsection. Duri gasped for breath, his face twisted in pain, but Jimin carried on.

He grabbed Duri by the throat, lifting him off the ground for a split second before slamming him down again, his skull cracking against the concrete with a sickening thud. Duri’s body jerked, gasping for air, but the fight had already left him.

Jimin’s heart pounded in his chest, his own blood thrumming in his ears, but the anger wouldn’t abate. It kept him moving, kept him hitting, until Duri’s limbs fell limp, his body crumpling into an unmoving heap on the floor.

Jimin stood over Duri, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, his hands trembling from the violence that still pulsed through him.

His heart pounded in his throat, and for a moment, the weight of what he had just done pressed down on him. But it didn’t matter. The anger still burned inside him, filling the hollow space where any satisfaction should have been.

It didn’t come. His body still shook with rage, but as he knelt there, staring at the aftermath, something else surfaced.

Tears slid down his face, hot and unwelcome. He wiped them away quickly, gritting his teeth, but they kept coming.

Jihoon, watching silently, finally spoke, his voice cold. “You’re still weak.”

Jimin didn’t acknowledge him, the words cutting into him like a knife, but he didn’t care. He rose to his feet, refusing to let his father see through him. Without a word, he turned and walked away.

note. thank you so much for reading! please don’t be a silent reader, your feedback is what keeps me motivated to write, literally 🥹 have a happy new year too! 🫶🏼✨

also, I hope the fic doesn’t seem slow/boring, I appreciate that it might be right now, but it’s a big series and to make it as wholesome and entertaining as possible for you guys, I really need to lay the foundations… there is of course lots more action and exciting stuff coming for these characters ;) <3 xoxo

#pjm #jimin x reader #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin masterlist #bts jimin #bts mafia au #bts mafia series #jimin mafia au #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin x you #jimin imagine

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clubdionysus · 9 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #23] Cherry Picking

warnings: ohhhhh we have arrived!! okay! a lil (not so) dry hump, bird manipulation!!, panty sniffing!! panties in mouth??, titty sucking, fingering, oral (f receiving), jungkooks nose <3, kissing !!! oh god the loveliest of kisses!!! unprotected sex, 'baby', cum on tits, jk cleans her up with his tongue! a gentleman! over stimulation, squirting, (just friendly tho!!)

soundtrack: diamonds - luke hemmings, finally // beautiful stranger - halsey, ruin the friendship - demi lovato

a/n: just two updates tonight as it cuts off at the perfect place!

wc: 15k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"They'll be wondering where you are," you say quietly, as the door behind you clicks shut. There's a slight rustle - the synthetic material of your padded jacket rubbing against itself - when Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, before he drapes it over your shoulders.

"Shouldn't start the New Year with a cold," he simply states stepping over the stone bench to sit down beside you. It's cold beneath his body, but he's got his coat on too. You've a hand warmer in each pocket, so pass one over to him. "Thanks."

"I mean it, Gguk," you double down, voice soft. "It's nearly time."

He just shrugs. Looks up to the sky.

You're in the tiny courtyard that's attached to the staffroom; Jeongguk's secret hiding spot for when he needs to escape from the chaos of Dionysus. There are some sheets of plywood in the corner that Jeongguk needs to take over to Yoongi's studio, but he's still putting off the expansions his boss wants doing. Doesn't want to lose his little sanctuary just yet.

It feels like he's losing more and more comforts day by day.

His final university deadlines are approaching, and he's gonna have to decide if he stays comfortable or does something far more terrifying a lot sooner than he's really ready for.

Change can be daunting, so he's choosing to keep things as they are as much as he can. Feels safer that way. The curse of Jeon Jeongguk is his ability to let his fears control his life. He's always been this way. Fears he always will be. The irony isn't lost on him.

"They'll be wondering where you are, too," he says. Thinks that Danbi must be running around like a headless chicken trying to find you - but also knows she was holding Tae's hand as she was glancing around before he left, so maybe she'll be a bit distracted. Thinks it's about time. Tae's been looking at her like a lovesick pup for weeks, now. Months, even.

"Jiyeong-" You begin, but are cut off by Jeongguk.

He doesn't want to talk about her. Doesn't wanna have to explain what happened, because it feels embarrassing and bothersome. Pity looks so pretty on your features, but he doesn't want to be the recipient of such a gentle look.

"-Isn't gonna be a part of next year," he says. Though his tone isn't stern, it is incredibly final .

You bring your gaze down from the skies, and rest your chin on your shoulder to look at Jeongguk. His eyes are still searching for stars - the light pollution proves to make it impossible - chin tilted upward, dewy nose to the sky. His skin is beginning to blush from the cold. His lips are thin; folded in on themselves, lip ring shining ever so daintily as it flips in the corner of his mouth.

You've missed watching his piercing do the thing. When you've as much alcohol in your system as you do, you find it makes your tummy flip, too. It's silly of your body to behave like that. Drunk or not, Jeongguk is still just Jeongguk.

From the club, you can hear the echoes of a chant. The countdown has begun. If you ask questions now, he'll just brush them off.

You're a little too tipsy to really comprehend what he means, either way.

"We should go back inside," you whisper, eyes still on him, your chin denting down into the thick padding of your coat. You always think you look like an emo Michelin baby whenever you wear it. If Jeongguk heard the comparison, he'd laugh. Would agree.

When he turns to look at you, he barely notices the coat. Just thinks you look cosy. Is pleased to find the stars right here on Earth, instead.

"Won't make it in time," he says.

"Could try?"

"Why bother?"

"'Cause you should be around people who care about you when it hits twelve," you say, a little pout on your lips. He's being difficult.

And then he just shrugs. Knocks into your shoulder. Smiles. "Are we not already?"

There's silence for a moment. Just a second.

The sky above you both begins to sparkle; greens and blues erupting where darkness once was. They scatter into the night; pinks and yellows spiralling just like your mind so often does whenever Jeongguk speaks in riddles.

You're aware that the fireworks are deafening, but you're oblivious to the sound. All you can hear is the beating of your own heart. The explosions shimmer in Jeongguk's eyes, but it's still only stars you can see in them.

"Happy New Year," Jeongguk says quietly. Smiles tenderly. Fills you with a warmth that the frigid winter night had previously stolen. He doesn't look at your lips. Makes no indication that he's thinking about a New Year's kiss.

There are a dozen girls in that room who'd have jumped at the chance to lock lips with him, even if just for a moment as the bells rang out, and yet he's chosen to be with you.

He could have been with Hayun.

And yet he's chosen to be with you.

"Happy New Year," you smile right back. The exchange is soft, like mid-winter snow; warm like a breeze on a summer's day. Secure like a three-pin-padlock; secret, like the code written in the back of an old notebook.

"Hey, B?" He says quietly, eyes still on yours. The sky flashes a myriad of colours. They rain down on him; paint him better than Picasso ever could.

"Mhmm?"

He grins. You think his lip ring looks so pretty. Teeth, too. Pearly and perfectly proportioned for him.

"Stop looking at my lips," he teases. "Gonna make me think you wanna kiss me."

A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. Cover your mouth. Can't believe how fucking obvious you must have been.

"I was just..." you begin to excuse yourself, but then laugh. Choose honesty. "I was actually just thinking about the fact you missed out on a New Years Kiss."

Jeongguk shrugs in that boyish way he so often does, as if he has no care for the arbitrary realities of life. C'est la vie . He looks up to the skies, and lets his smile linger as the illuminations paint the midnight skies.

"Got all year for kisses, B. Only one chance to see the New Year in with my best friend."

And maybe it's because you've been rattled by Hayun, or maybe it's because he's one of the only good things to have come out of the past year, but hearing him claim you as his best friend makes you feel like a weight has been lifted.

"Best friend?" You question, just to make sure.

He nods. "Best friend."

It's laughable, really, how those two words take aim at the arrows shot by Hayun, and knocks them off course before they can really implode on your heart. Just a surface scratch, now. That's all.

"What about Jimin?"

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side. Considers it. "Family."

You're pleased to hear the conclusion of his consideration. You've a shared history with Jimin that could make things awkward between the three of you, and yet you all chalk it up to dumb drunk choices. Aren't the first you've ever made. Won't be the last.

"Be weird if I said you were like family, too," Jeongguk adds - then feels the need to clarify, even though he totally doesn't. "Fucked you. Would make for weird family gatherings."

You laugh. Nod. "Yeah. Probably best you don't ever tell girls I'm like a sister or anything like that," you muse.

He laughs, too, but doesn't say anything. Thinks of Hayun, and how he knows you had definitely had a spat with her before you left. Wants to know what was said. Knows it will be about him. Doesn't want to sour your mood. Is quite conflicted.

Luckily for him, your mind works in a similar way, and your filter is next to non-existent when you've had as many drinks as you have.

"I thought Hayun was your best friend."

Jeongguk looks over to you, his eyes a little hard, brows pinching above his nose. You don't look at him. The fireworks are dwindling, now.

"Friendships change," he admits candidly.

Won't tell you how the second he heard someone asking for star fuckers, he assumed it was you .

Won't tell you how he recited lines - already said to you - to her, because he wasn't comfortable enough in her presence to let his brain think of anything original. Went for something safe. Went for something nurtured with you.

Won't tell you how much the way you've subtly distracted him - with glitter and nonsensical conversations - throughout the night has helped him get his head straight.

Won't tell you how watching you leave felt like a sucker punch to the chest.

Won't tell you that he didn't even consider going over to his friends, because in that moment he was furious with the fact Hayun had made you want to leave so close to midnight. He likes to think it wasn't intentional, but celebrating with her while you would have been alone? Didn't seem like something worth celebrating at all.

If he hadn't been distracted (as always) by your disco ball eyes, and the way light shines from your very being, he never would have known you were speaking with her. Never would have seen her do that thing with her eyes - the cold, vacant, roll of them he used to know so well - that he hated so much. Never would have realised you were leaving.

You'd have spent New Year's by yourself, away from the people who love you, cold and quiet.

And it would have been her fault.

Mentally, he excuses her bad behaviour; tells himself it's probably a mix of alcohol and someone new taking her place that made her hostile.

But when he looks at you, and acknowledges the sadness that imposes on your features, the guilt creeps in. He blames himself . If he'd have introduced you two, maybe it would have gone differently. If Jiyeong hadn't been so rude to her, maybe Hayun wouldn't have been so malevolent with you.

Absolving Hayun of blame is something Jeongguk's been doing for years. Patterns of behaviour are easy to acknowledge; difficult to end.

He's trying. He's here. That counts for something.

You think Jeongguk is right. Friendships do change. You're scared that Hayun's presence will change yours.

"When do you clock off?" You ask, instead of venturing any further down the road of a topic you don't think will benefit either of you.

Jeongguk raises his wrist - the one without his watch on it - and hums. Pretends to read it. Makes you giggle.

"About five minutes ago."

The skies have settled once more. The only stars he can see are ones in his peripherals; the specks of glitter on his skin, and the girl beside him.

The chill of a winter freeze is sobering you up. You know that you probably can't walk straight, but you can think straight, and that's absolutely outrageous, as far as you're concerned. The night is still young and - as Jimin said - so are you. The heaviness in your heart is ageing you. You don't care for it.

"Starfuckers?" you propose - and the way Jeongguk smiles has you wishing you'd asked earlier.

"Thought you'd never ask," he grins, but catches himself.

Decides he needs to give you a little context on Jiyeong before continuing the night, 'cause he doesn't wanna talk about it when he's a few shots too deep to be sensible about things.

"Jiyeong gets really... argumentative when she drinks."

His slow speech makes it evident how careful he's trying to be. You know what it really means. Knows she must have said something awful for him to be mentioning it now.

"Was it bad?" you ask, a little clueless, and hating it.

Jeongguk nods. Bites the bullet. Doesn't look at you as he says, "She threw a drink on me."

"She what?!"

Jeongguk smirks, not because he finds it funny, but because he finds it awkward. Rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "Was at the bar. Fucking mortifying ."

You study his face, looking for signs you might have missed.

"Where did she get you?" You ask, but realise as soon as your question finishes. You gasp again. Can't believe you hadn't thought to ask earlier. "The outfit change?!"

He confirms your suspicions. "Anyways, I'm sort of... done with her."

His hesitation is genuine, not because he's unsure of his choice, just because he's still worried about letting you down.

To his surprise, you're the one apologising.

The weight in your chest when he admits that he doesn't want to be with her is catastrophic. You thought you had picked well for him. You really thought maybe you'd helped him. You feel like the failure.

"Gguk, if I'd have known she was like that, I never would have set things up. I'm so so sorry. You didn't deserve that whatsoever."

"Not your fault," he says, offering you a sincere smile. "Just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes."

He's downplaying it, and you both know it. He doesn't want to talk about it though, so you won't push. Not now. Another time, yes.

Thing is, neither of you are at fault. C'est la vie.

"You know how many stars there are?" You ask, in a bid to change the subject to something a little easier to digest.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Not a clue, B."

"Oh," you say quietly. "Thought you might. Always mumbling stuff about the stars, you are."

He smiles to himself. Thinks it's hardly a surprise.

Deflects, and asks, "You know much about manure?"

"What?" You chirp, then laugh. What a bizarre question. "No?"

"Oh," he hums, mimicking you. "Thought you might. Always chatting shit."

You tell him to fuck off, so he gets to his feet - but holds his hand out for you.

"C'mon," he knocks his head to the side. "Let's go get fucked up."

It's quarter past twelve by the time you make it back to your friends, Jeongguk double fisting drinks 'cause he's so far behind everyone else and needs to get fucked up.

It doesn't take much - four double dark rum and cokes, three purple starfuckers - for him to be doing the robot in a strange sort of avant-garde dance battle with Hobi and Jimin. You're not really sure what you're looking at as Jeongguk moves his body in a way you never need to see him move his body - but you find it hilarious. He's both smooth and awkward in his movements. None of it quite makes sense.

You smile through it all. Endlessly. Affectionately. Adoringly.

And then you're laughing, too.

Might just be the vodka. Might be the nerves of Hayun's eyes being on you. Most likely, it's because Jeongguk looks ridiculous. So sexy in one moment, and so goofy in the next.

You never know what's coming next. He almost stumbles over to you as you nurse on a drink by the sofas. Regains his balance. Tries to play it cool. Is suave as he says, "you good down there, B?" - but then he sinks down into the sofa beside you, a silly grin on his rum-drunk lips. You find that you'd welcome all his surprises, good or bad.

He hiccups. Scolds himself. Asks you how you are. Hiccups again. Listens as you tell him to hold his breath. Hiccups as he's doing it. Gives up. Hiccups freely.

He's still got a drink in his hand, so you take it from him and have a sip or two. He doesn't protest. Rabbits on about something neither of you will remember in the morning. The club lights hit him in all the right places, making his glittered cheekbones appear even more majestic than they already were.

"More glitter," you muse. "You need more glitter."

"Y'know," he slurs, looking all very poised and serious, a finger pointing as he speaks. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

He chats absolute shit while you dapple his cheeks with more pretty sparkles. They match his eyes, now.

You've managed to avoid Hayun since returning, and you're secretly pleased that Jeongguk has done the same.

Aside from a few awkward glances when you both arrived back to greet your friends, he's deliberately steered clear. Wants an orderly mind before they speak again.

He's still disgruntled by the fact you found her so intolerable you were willing to spend New Year alone just to not be near her. Trusts you. Trusts your judgement (even if you did set him up with Jiyeong). Trusts you always see the good in people, but knows you struggled to see the good in her.

Thinks maybe life would have been easier if he met you first.

Hayun over by the bar with Nabi and Tae. They seem to be her closest friends amongst the circle. Yoongi didn't say a single word to her all night, but Seoyeon was pretty friendly with her.

They left just after midnight, and were gone by the time you and Jeongguk returned from the courtyard. Namjoon's working the early shift tomorrow - "the news isn't gonna write itself" - so he'd dipped with them, too.

Like Yoongi, Jimin gives Hayun the cold shoulder. It's expected, given how close he is to Jeongguk.

You're unaware of the fact that she and Jimin go way back. Knew each other as kids. If anyone should have still been pally with her, it would be him - but he's the only one who knows how much Jeongguk suffered because of her. He knows the situation almost as well as he knows the plotline for The Notebook, and considering that it's his go-to hangover movie (while also considering how often he's hungover), it's safe to say he's got a decent understanding of it.

Jimin will never be on Hayun's side. He told her years ago that this would be the consequence of her dicking Jeongguk around, and is a man of his word when it comes to his friends. Used to really eat him up, how easily she let go of their friendship. Counts it as a blessing, now.

As he stands by the bar and notices what's going on with you, Jeongguk and a tube of liquid glitter, he smiles. Doesn't have a clue what happened with Jiyeong. Doesn't care. Really couldn't give a shit for any other girl in Jeongguk's life. Is just glad he has you.

You've been good for him.

"What's going on with them?" Hayun asks as she joins him at the bar. Is a little annoyed Jeongguk has been so... avoidant. It's a change to the norm. Jeongguk doesn't do change. Something feels... off.

Jimin's smile fades. She still tries to be his friend. It annoys him. "Nothing."

She laughs. It's insincere.

"I've got a pair of eyes, Jimin. He's sat there like a lovesick puppy while some girl covers him in fucking glitter," she sneers.

"So? Your point?"

"It's fucking weird."

Jimin rolls his eyes. Exhales a deep sigh. "You've not been here, Hayun. You can't come back and decide that everything is awful just because it isn't the way you left it. Life's moved on. You should try it, sometime."

"That's not it," she says.

"So what is it?" Jimin questions. He doesn't really want to be having this conversation, but everyone's fucked. He thinks he'd rather know if she's up to no good. Might not remember it in the morning, but at least he'll know now.

"He's changed."

"He's happy," Jimin says bluntly. "That's what's changed."

"She's not his girlfriend," Hayun states.

Jimin knows about Jeongguk's desire to call things off with Jiyeong. Doesn't know about the fact he kind of already has. Also doesn't think it's his place to air Jeongguk's dirty laundry, so he says the safest thing he can.

"Nor is Jiyeong, if that's what you're getting at. Not sure if you remember, but Gguk has a hard time saying no to girls who treat him like shit," he says with a little venom. "His relationships are frankly none of your business. You revoked rights to that sort of information years ago."

"I'm just concerned," she says - and she sounds like she actually means it. Jimin doesn't buy it for a second, but lets her talk. "I used to know him better than anyone. It's like looking at a stranger, now."

"And who's fault is that?" Jimin snaps, but either Hayun is too drunk to really notice or too narcissistic to actually care.

Instead of actually responding, Hayun muses aloud. "All of it...the glitter, the puppy dog eyes... her attitude problem... It all just screams quarter-life crisis."

She's unaware that your glitter session ended a few minutes ago. Is unaware that you've dashed to the staff room to put your phone on charge. Is unaware that you'd sent Jeongguk on the hunt for more drinks.

Doesn't realise until Yeonjun flashes a grin, and says, "fuckin' hell. Shoulda put a bet on you morphing into Disco Ball."

Jeongguk smirks, resting his palms on the bar. He is, admittedly, DB2.0 at this point. There's glitter in his hair . "Starfuckers?"

"Trust me to make them?" Yeonjun checks - not that Jeongguk is stepping a foot behind the bar, not when he's as trashed as he is. The palms resting on the bar aren't just because he knows he looks good - it's because he needs to steady himself.

He nods. Taps Jimin on shoulder. "Starfucker?"

"Stupid question."

"I think the word you were looking for is 'yes'," Jeongguk grins, turning his attention back to Yeonjun. "Three, please, mate."

Hayun doesn't hide the smile on her face. Some things, apparently, don't change. She likes Jeongguk when you aren't around.

"Hey, buddy," she smiles in that way she always did when she'd been up to no good and wanted him on her side again.

Jeongguk is silent. Isn't smiling. Doesn't look at her. Just simply says: "Careful, Hayun."

"Hmm?" she questions, wondering what on earth she needs to watch out for. The bar's nearly empty, now.

"Watch your mouth when you're chatting shit," he says dryly, his voice just as flat as his eyes are vacant. "You never know who's listening."

Yeonjun can't help but smirk. Has been watching Jeongguk's entire life blow up right in front of his very eyes all night, and it just never ceases to surprise him. Has no idea who this bitch is in front of him, but the way Jeongguk looks like he wants to chew her up and spit her out? Oh, he is living for it.

He pours the shots. Decides the bar needs a good wipe-down. Stays close just to listen in.

Is surprised when he hears Jeongguk mention you by name. Had almost forgotten you actually have one. Is so used to calling you Disco Ball.

Admittedly, he thinks there's a tenderness to the way Jeongguk says your name. Thinks it's really fuckin' sweet.

He says your name, knocks back his shot, then says, "I dunno what you said to her earlier, but you were outta line. She's our friend." He passes the next shot over to Jimin. Finally looks down at Hayun. Is surprised when it doesn't hurt like he half thinks it should. He's never spoken to her like this before. "So play nicely, and keep her name out your mouth unless you're telling her how pretty her glitter looks."

Hayun thinks Jeongguk's gone absolutely clinically insane.

Yeonjun thinks this is brilliant .

From the corner of his eye, Jeongguk notices the staff room door open and close, so he picks up the spare shot that Hayun mistakenly thought was hers. As you approach, glittery and gorgeous like always, he holds it out for you to take.

"Oh, you star. Thank you," you beam, accepting it without a second thought. You ignore Hayun.

"Charging?" Jeongguk asks, just to make sure the dodgy wire in the staff room is working. You nod, and assure him it's fine. "Dancefloor?"

Again, you nod. "Please."

Yeonjun thinks he's gonna watch the security cameras back later just to see all of that unfold again. He's never seen a face look so much like a slapped arse, but Hayun? Offt . She's going through it.

"Y'know, maybe he has changed," Jimin smirks. "Ain't that a blessing."

Hayun is silent. Jeongguk has never spoken to her like that. Ever. Not even when they were fighting. The life she's returned to no longer has space for her, or so it feels like.

You're too drunk to care. Decide that you're better off pretending like she doesn't exist. You derive no joy from her existence, and think that this year you should only do things that make you happy.

When Jeongguk forces you to dance with him? You're happy.

When he yawns, and starts talking about kebabs? You're happy.

When he holds your hand and drunkenly traipses down the clubbing district to the kebab place he swears down laces their fries with crack? You're happy.

Happy when Jeongguk insists you walk instead of catching a cab, happy when he offers you a piggyback, happy when he doesn't put you down, not even in the elevator of his apartment complex.

Doesn't put you down until you're both sat on the floor between his kitchen area and sitting room. The lights are off, but early morning is breaking; the city intruding on your privacy.

Your hair is so long now, he thinks. How long has he known you? He can't remember. But it was short when you first met. Just above your shoulders. Now, it finishes midway down your chest. You're not the same person as you were back then, and nor is he.

It's a realisation; he's still learning about you. If somebody had asked him even a day ago how quickly your hair grows, he wouldn't have had an answer. Had never noticed. Knows your roots need doing, but he likes them so never comments on them.

Jeongguk knows you so well, and yet not at all.

He knows your favourite drink in a dive bar, but doesn't know what you'd get at bottomless brunch with the girls. Knows that you demolish Psy's It's Art in a noraebang, but has no idea what your favourite song is. Knows so much and yet knows nothing at all.

Knows your fears; doesn't know your hopes.

The realisation upsets him.

And so he asks. Lets you drunkenly natter on about your childhood dreams; plays the band you said soundtracked your childhood from his phone. It's set on the floor a little bit away from you. He chooses not to play it through a proper speaker. There's an intimacy to this. Thinks it's important you keep this shit analogue.

There's a dozen birds above Jeongguk's bed that outline the a-z of your intimacy textbook, but none of them include this.

None of them mentions talking about your childhood pet, and watching Jeongguk's pretty little smile appear on his scrunched-up face as he enthuses over puppy pictures.

Not a single bird includes candid admittance of times you threatened to run away from your family home as a teenager; nor do they include the way the Jeongguk asks about your escape plans, and tells you how you definitely could have done it.

There are no birds that tell you to bare your soul, and yet, you do.

Jeongguk is so kind with it. Accepts it graciously, and touches it with tender hands; places it down beside his own, and finds you fit perfectly in the empty space.

He finds himself nervous. Not in the lip-biting, ring-flipping, unsure eyes kind of way you're used to seeing him in, well, any uncomfortable situation; but in a different way entirely.

He worries that the night will end. Is concerned that you'll leave, and that things will be cemented in this awkwardly 'okay' stalemate.

He knows more about you than he did a few hours ago; has learned itsy bitsy tales of childhood and saw your face cringe as he scoured your mum's facebook page for pictures of your teenage haircut that you swore was cool at the time (not that his mother's kitchen scissor bowl cut was much better).

You've an idea of the layout of his family home, thanks to an overly explained prank that he says he pulled on his brother, which you also learn resulted in no eyebrows for either of them (another thing to thank his mother for ( "a punishment to match the crime" is how Jeongguk phrased it as he mindlessly stroked over his since-recovered brows)).

These aren't little things to know about one another. They're candid revelations packaged in awkward smiles and tied with liquor-laced ribbons.

Little presents, squirrelled away in each of your minds; reminders that the most intimate we can be with another person is when we're fully clothed.

Foolish of you not to consider that. C'est la vie.

That's what Jeongguk worries about. He worries that you'll leave, and the physical intimacy won't have matched the emotional intimacy and it will fuck with your head. Will have you ignoring him, or avoiding him.

You don't say anything, but as you watch him get to grips with a karaoke mic by the sofa, a song about makgeolli playing in the background, his giggles echoing into the speaker system, you don't ever want to avoid him again. Hated the time spent keeping a distance. Life is so much better when he's around.

He encourages you up, and forces you to dance with him like a pair of lunatics to an old Psy song. It's one of the ones Psy would always sing at his university campus shows, and when you mention this, Jeongguk cannot fathom the fact you've seen him live . Forces you to find it on youtube. Tries to find you in the crowd - but it's like a game of where's wally.

Eventually, he gives up. Says he's found you. Points to the mirror in the corner of the room - and when you look over and see the pair of you as you are, you decide that maybe bad decisions would be a good idea.

Glitter speckled, you're both messes. Still in your club clothes, there's something funny about the way your hair is in a lopsided bun on top of your head, his hair kind of all over the place. You'd be forgiven for thinking the pair of you had been at it - when in reality, all you'd been doing was singing your hearts out in a make-shift home noraebang.

You're busy laughing, toying with his little tufts of hair that stick out on end when his front door beeps, Jimin finally entering the code to return home. Dawn is breaking, and you're surprised that he's alone. He's busy chewing on a sotteok sotteok stick - mini sausages and rice cakes threaded onto a wooden skewer - to pay you much attention. The spicy sauce drips into the container he's holding, which you both recognise to be from the convenience store down the road.

"Here he is," Jeongguk teases, as Jimin casts his housemate a small grin.

He's pissed - still drunk as a skunk - and slurs his words as he goes to speak. "There's a disco ball in our living room."

"It's not a party worth having if you don't have a disco ball," you assure him, to which he lets you know that it's not a party if there are only two people.

"When there's two," he mumbles through a mouthful of tteok, waving the half-empty stick in the air. "That's not a party."

"So what is it?" Jeongguk asks.

The way Jimin smiles before he starts talking makes Jeongguk regret ever asking.

"A couple."

Jeongguk shoos him away. Tells him he needs a good night's sleep before he inevitably watches The Notebook tomorrow morning, like he always does whenever he wakes up alone with a hangover. A depressing way to start the year, you think.

"DB, you like Gosling?" Jimin says, in his pants and t-shirt now, sitting on the floor. He's holding a glass of water like it's a sippy cup. You cannot believe you've had sex with him. Twice. "Wanna watch?"

"Prefer Reynolds," you say of the famous Ryan's.

Jeongguk squeezes your knee. Smiles. Remembers the Deadpool marathons with you and Danbi. Likes how much you've both integrated into one another's lives.

This is just reality now.

And for the first time in a long time, Jeongguk realises just how lucky he really is. His life may not be grand, and it may not be written about in history books; but it's a fulfilled life. He's happy.

Jimin falls asleep on the living room floor. Is dragged into his room by Jeongguk. Won't remember any of it in the morning.

When Jeongguk finally retires to his room, you're poking around at the birds on his desk.

"I missed some?"

He nods. Sits on the edge of his bed, legs spread, leaning back to rest on his elbows. He's tired. Doesn't wanna sleep. Has missed you too much. "Fell a couple of weeks ago."

You pout. "I've missed the kids."

Jeongguk is soft as he says, "they missed you, too."

Looking at you now as you scan his room, party dress sparkling as the early morning sun intrudes on his room, he struggles to remember what life was like before he knew you.

And then he wonders if he'll ever forget what it felt like to fuck you.

He doesn't mean to think about you improperly - he's just in that god-awful state of post-drinking pleasure-seeking.

He's not even gonna deny it. He wants you.

There's a dilemma that comes with Jeongguk's desire: morals.

He's not sure how drunk Jiyeong was. Isn't sure how intentional she was with her threats. Doesn't know if she'll remember what she did, or if she'll even realise Jeongguk called it quits when she wakes up the next morning.

If he were to check his phone, he'd see that one of the personal trainers from the gym had tagged him in an insta story with the caption 'come get your girl, bro', and said girl necking on with some guy Jeongguk wouldn't be able to pick out from a crowd.

He doesn't check his phone, though. Regardless of everything, he was never her boyfriend. The way she treated him is exactly why he never asked. She burnt her bridges time and time again. Jeongguk doesn't care to rebuild them again, not when she never lends a hand.

It's not that he wants to be cruel. It's not that he never cared. Nothing like that at all.

But he is drunk, and he is single, and fuck it's so nice to be around someone that makes him feel as lovely as you do.

When he holds out his hands, you gravitate towards him. Stand between his legs. Look down at his pretty face, hands delicate beneath his jaw.

Jeon Jeongguk is gonna ruin your life, you think.

As his hands stoke up your bare thighs, and encourages you onto his lap without a single word?

Life, ruined. You're certain.

The way you do whatever he asks of you has you considering that maybe your life isn't even yours anymore. His. All his.

You know you shouldn't entertain this. The Jiyeong shit is too fresh. Hayun, too - but that only encourages you. You have what she wants. You'd like to keep it that way.

His grip on your waist is tight as he pulls you up his lap, the thick ridge of his bulge beneath you perfectly positioned to rut up against you.

There's hesitation to your movements; delicacy.

His are the opposite. Decisive. He knows what he wants - and as he uses his grip to push you further down onto his crotch, your soft whimpers let him know that you want it, too.

"Gguk," you whisper, heart beating so fast you're scared it might short circuit. He nudges his nose against yours. Nods. Could kiss you, if he wasn't behaving himself.

It's laughable, really, how he's humping himself up against you, and considers it 'good' because he isn't kissing you.

Your voice is barely audible when you say, "I hate my rules."

Jeongguk's jaw tenses. His eyes close, nostrils a little flared as he tries to control his breathing. Nudges his nose a little deeper against yours.

"Me too, B."

He despises them. Loathes them. Will never break them. No matter how hard is cock is and how difficult it is to think straight when he's suffocated by your hair. They're yours to break. Yours alone.

So while the admission makes him needy - gets him squeezing at your soft flesh, body grinding a little faster - he keeps his lips away. Kind of. There's a very small gap for you to close.

You could do it.

Could sink your lips down onto his, and experience what it's like to feel his moans vibrate into your mouth. Could let his tongue lick against yours. Could hold his jaw, lips hard and deliberate as they press against each other.

Could do a million little things. Your nipples are hard just from the thought of it all, and your thin lace bra hides nothing. Nor does your dress.

Jeongguk can feel them against his chest. Can't stop himself from tightly squeezing at them, his thumbs settling over your hardened bud. He rubs against them, knowing just how sensitive they are, even through your clothes, and is pleased when your breathing starts to get heavier.

A moan gets trapped in your throat, nails scratching against the nape of his neck. You're matching his movement, hips grinding against him.

You wonder how long it's been since he used someone else to relieve him. Find yourself worried it hasn't been long enough. Don't want him thinking about her while he's with you. It's not like you can control his mind, but then again, you're unaware of the catastrophic hold you have on him.

He takes a second to scan your eyes, and as much as you want to hold his gaze, you're distracted by his glitter. His cheeks, the rogue specks on his nose, his jaw... along the indent of his cupid's bow.

Jeongguk has enough experience with glitter-induced mindlessness, so knows that's what's happening - but he wants to check that you still want this. Still want him . It's been a while, and he knows the fact he'd been with someone else could hinder your desire for him.

Funny. He's not thinking about the fact you hooked up with Jimin at all. Couldn't give a shit about that.

All he can think about you, and your wants, your needs. Brushes a strand of hair away from your face, as he says, "if this is too weird, we can stop."

But you just shake your head, a soft smile on your pouty lips. He licks across his own.

"I've missed you," you admit all rather foolishly. Laugh, then cover your face with your hands. Jeongguk likes the rings you're wearing. Always the same three. Thin and dainty, they're as much a part of you as your glitter is.

His fingers wrap around your wrists, as he pulls them down. There's a little resistance from you, but eventually, you concede. Look at him a little helplessly, but are pleased to see him smiling.

"Missed you, too."

When you chirp a small hum in reply, Jeongguk laughs. Holds your waist again, stroking your sides ever so tenderly. Reassures you. "Of course I have. You know how much I like having you like this."

You narrow your eyes now, but it's playful. Feign a little offence, just to keep him smiling. "Have me like what exactly, Jeon?"

He rolls his eyes, but just pushes the hair that's covering your neck away from you. Leans a little closer, and presses a kiss into your skin. The contact of his lips, a little wet and torturously firm, has you sighing, hips pulling up. He encourages this. Grips onto your waist a little tighter. Pushes you down onto his crotch. Lets himself grind up against you once, twice, then husks against your neck, "Like this, B. Like you wanna get that pretty pussy of yours all messy for me."

He pulls back. Holds you tightly in place over his cock, of which he knows is embarrassingly hard. Sometimes he thinks all you have to do is glance in his direction to get him like this.

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips parted ever so slightly - gets his hips pulsing again ever so gently. Your body moves with his, the sensation of his hardness beneath you making you feel a way that could only be compared to Nirvana.

You're the one who pulls him closer, now, a hand cradling his jaw, the other sinking into his hair. It's a control thing. Want him close, but can also pull him away. It excites him. Always does whenever you take the reins back from him.

As your grip tightens in his hair, his breathing shallows. Nose nudging against his, you know you're a little too close. Know you're being mean. Know how much he must be dying to close the gap, 'cause you are too.

"I do," you whisper back. "It's already messy."

"Hmm?" he moans an incoherent reply. Has his lips firmly pressed shut, cause he doesn't trust himself. Has closed his eyes, too. Can't risk it.

"Mhmm," you murmur back. "So messy, Koo."

The way you soften the sound of his name has him desperate to fuck himself into you. You're so soft, and tender, and everything he's been missing.

"For me?" He asks, because formulating words is the only way he can stay focused - but even that's failing him, now.

"All for you."

His cock throbs beneath you. He knows he must be messy, too, precum pooling from the tiny slit at the very tip of his cock. Hates that he's trapped in his clothes, but loves the idea of slowly getting you out of yours.

"All mine," he smiles to himself, lost in the way he feels. You nod. Giggle. Let your hair drape around his face as your forehead leans on his. He laughs, too.

You're both highly aware of the fact that this is wrong .

You shouldn't be acting like this. Shouldn't be feeling this.

But you are.

And you'll continue to do so until the night draws to its inevitable end.

"What should I do about it, then, huh?" Jeongguk asks, tilting his pretty face up a little bit. The glitter on his cheeks catches in the light of his bedside table. The room around you feels too big. You don't acknowledge it. Only him.

You're so quiet when you reply. Know that you're saying things you shouldn't be; tempting him like you're some kind of divine serpentine being. Jeongguk's got one trailing up his arm in thick black ink. He likes snakes. Likes you, more. Likes how delicate your voice is when you say, "clean it up."

One of his hands grips your ass. Squeezes. Hard. Makes you mewl.

"And how should I do that?" He asks softly, knowing that if he doesn't get some kind of release soon, the friction of your still-clothed pussy over the bulge in his trousers will end him. Write him off entirely. Might even make him die.

You could be demure in your answer. You could play coy. Stop this from escalating

Or you could continue grinding against him, breath laboured, heartbeat unstable. You could run your thumb along his bottom lip. Nudge your nose against his in that tender you always do.

And then you could simply say, "Eat me out."

"Yeah?" He would say. Would want you to repeat it.

"Yeah," you'd reply. "Eat me out. Please."

So that's exactly what you do.

Jeongguk's mouth waters at the mere suggestion of getting his tongue between your folds. Has thought about it so many times. Never thought he'd see the day that you ask for it.

The tiny 'please' you whisper? The way you beg for it? His cock aches. Needs relief from you.

You're finicky to a fault though. Smirk as you say, "Real shame the bird hasn't fallen, isn't it?"

There are a few birds on his desk, but none of them are that specific bird.

Of all the ones you wrote together, there's only been one that you've ever known the identity of as it watches over you.

There's a small mark on its wing. You'd been holding the pen between your teeth as you'd folded it, but been distracted by Jeongguk mumbling to himself. Had narrowly avoided leaving a blotch of ink on crisp white sheets.

Instead, you'd cursed a bird - and so for the past six months, you'd look up at birds and wonder when it would fall. It was the only one you felt apprehensive of, but that simply was down to fact you knew what it was.

"Maybe we can do an I.O.U. for the birds?" He offers. Is keen.

You know you shouldn't cherry-pick the birds. It goes against their free will. Playing God will only ever end in tears - but you're still tipsy, and all you can think about is how much you need this.

It's been so long since anyone has eaten you out that now the idea is floating, you won't be able to rest until it's happened.

His hands stroke up the back of your legs as you stand up on his bed. His head is level with the tops of your thighs, so he lets his lips brush against them. Presses wet kisses up them. Is slow. You take a little extra pulling the right bird down. Lean in such a way that he's dangerously close to your panties. He can smell your arousal. Wants to taste it.

You settle back into his lap, bodies close as you hand him the bird. He looks at you. Wonders if there's magic behind those starry eyes of yours. Thinks there must be.

When he opens it up, and is greeted with the exact same act you've asked him to perform, he knows there must be magic in you.

The truth of it all is that you'd just made a bad decision when you made it. Shouldn't have dropped the pen. But you did; and now you're here.

"Make me feel good," you implore as you toy with his hair.

He wants his lips on your body; wants to feel the pressure of his lips brushing against yours.

Just isn't brave enough to take things that far, yet.

He tucks a little bit of your own hair behind your ear. Studies your face.

"Look at me when you ask."

You're slow to do as he asks. Spend a little time toying with his necklaces, instead. You know his eyes are on yours. He could count your lashes if he wanted - but he doesn't. Mainly because he can't think straight, let alone count above the number ten.

"B," he encourages, index finger curling beneath your chin. He tilts your head upwards, your eyes trailing up his features until they settle on his eyes.

"Want you to make me feel good."

He nods. Is eager as he does so. It's so hard to not kiss you.

"I will. Gonna make you feel so good, Byeol. You want that? Want me to make your pussy feel good?"

You nod your head. Widen your eyes as you beg. "Please."

Jeongguk respositions you. Gets you sitting in his spot. Stands as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck and pulls it over his head. Chucks it at you. Makes you both laugh - but fuck. He's gorgeous .

He grips the bulge in the front of his trousers. Groans .

"See how hard you make me?" He asks. Waits for you to nod. Unbuttons his slacks and lowers the zip, so the top of his dark boxer briefs poke through. He palms at himself. Presses his lips together as a muffled grunt stifles in his throat.

The subtle movement of his muscles beneath his warm skin has you entranced. He's human, yes, but built like a God. Worshipping him feels like the only appropriate course of action - and yet as he guides you over and positions you how he likes it - face down, ass up - he's the one who's gonna be worshipping you.

Eyes closed, you smile into the scent of his sheets. Hadn't realised how much you missed how soft they always are; cotton fresh and a worthy home for the night. Of all the boys you've ever dated, not of them have cared in the same way that Jeongguk does about his laundry.

He's like that in all aspects of his life, though. Details. His senses. They align and overlap, and Jeongguk has to have things in a specific way, otherwise he isn't happy.

You confuse him, in that way. You're haphazard to a fault, and Jeongguk knows that glitter never really fit into his idea of what it takes to build a home, but he misses it being on his sheets.

He pushes your dress up, over your ass. Doesn't look at your satin-covered pussy 'cause he's trying to hold off. Grapples the flesh of your ass, then delivers a short, sharp spank. Likes the way you gasp, then sigh.

Doesn't like that he can't see the smile he knows is on your lips though.

It's all rather confusing. This is how he likes to do things.

And yet he finds himself getting you back into your original position. Walks over to his door. Checks it's locked.

Jeongguk turns around to look at you, eyes dark, his intentions perfectly clear.

He prowls a little closer. Taps on your knees and encourages you to open your legs. Not once does his gaze drop from your eyes. Not when your legs spread, not when he lowers himself, not when he can fucking smell your arousal. He wants to. Wants to look at your pretty little pussy so badly - but he'd locked in on your eyes.

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress to your hips. Your underwear is black, and your wetness has seeped through - but he doesn't acknowledge it. Not yet.

He lowers his lips, but keeps his eyes on yours still, as he presses a wet kiss to your thigh. Up he odesseys; one, two, three kisses. A trail of evidence is left, little dewy marks mapping out his journey. He leans over. Repeats it on your other thigh.

One of his hands grips your waist, while the other strokes your thigh that's without his lips. He's taking his time. Keeping his eyes on you. Can see how your chest moves; knows that you're as desperate for this as he is. He licks his lips, and smirks.

"So patient," he husks, oh-so-affectionately. Squeezes the soft flesh of your thigh. Loves how you feel. So warm, and soft, and made for him. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, a tiny whine catching on your lips.

"What was that?" He asks, before his eyes finally glance down towards your covered cunt. It's only supposed to be for a second, but he didn't anticipate quite how wet you'd already be; how it would be shining through the fabric of your panties. They're silky today, and it just makes your slick look even messier.

He inhales a deep breath, and lets out a shallow laugh as his head drops in defeat. Can't even play it cool. He wants you. Wants you more than he needs air to breathe.

It's just pheromones, and he knows this. Knows how gets when he likes a girl. Knows how fucking nasty he can get in pursuit of her scent. In the very worst cases, he finds himself enjoying feet . Underarms. Underwear. Anywhere that's gonna release them.

He always liked the smell of your perfume; the fragrances you'd layer over yourself to mask your natural scent - but it's 5am, and you've been in a club all evening. Your perfume has worn off. This is all you.

And he knows he's utterly screwed.

His lips trail up your thigh. Head tilts. It's his nose, now, that's making contact with your clothed cunt. He's slow. Tepid. Taking his time, 'cause he's thought about this during so many lonely nights and doesn't wanna waste it.

His nose rests against the fabric that's keeping you away from him. His perpetually dewy nose dampens as he nudges against you. He inhales. Is shaky, in the way that he breathes. "Fuck."

The pressure of his nose against you deepens. He groans. Mumbles some incoherent shit about how fucking good you smell. Presses his lips against the soaked satin. Kisses. Get his lips all glossy.

He kitten licks, then drags his tongue up your underwear. Knows he'll get so much more of your taste if he just takes them off, but he's scared. Worries that having your cunt in his mouth will ruin him for the rest of his life.

And so he continues taking his time. Uses his tongue. Teases where he thinks your clit could be. He's not too far off, but it's hidden by your folds that have swollen quite considerably. He's teasing too much. Getting you too needy. His thumb presses over the wettest part of your panties, where he knows your hole must be. The way the material gives just a little, and the way you sigh into his touch only proves this.

"Please," you whisper.

Jeongguk nods, not once losing contact with your cunt, until he slowly pulls back. Runs his fingers over your soaked panties. Studies the way they cling to you. Looks up at you as he gently massages you. Runs his index finger under the laces edge of your panties. "You want them off, B?"

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips pouty - has him desperate for you. You could ask him to spend eternity with his face buried in your cunt, and he thinks he would.

He taps the side of your thigh - "hips" - and encourages you to raise yourself. His fingers hook over the sides of your underwear.

"Dress," he says, indicating his desire for you to take that off too, now that you can. Is too busy staring at your cunt, and the way your slick juices string to your underwear as he pulls them down to even realise you're taking it off. Bra, too.

Jeongguk is tentative as he gets your panties off. Hold your feet as he slips your ankle through them, and repeats. Doesn't get rid of them immediately.

He's so fucking hard he thinks he might die - and it only gets worse when he brings your sopping wet panties to his nose. It's lewd . The way he inhales your scent is erotic to the point of it being perverse - but it has you leaking for him. His dark eyes fall open, and land on yours.

The material hooks over his fingers, as Jeongguk reaches over to squeeze one of your tits. He's missed them. Will scream 'I'm an ass guy' until the cows come home, but knows it's your nipples he'll be sucking on when you inevitably milk him of his cum a little later. Your panties drag over the hardened bud of your nipple as he toys with you. Smears your juices all over it. Glistens as Jeongguk sits up a little to bring your panties to your mouth.

"Wanna see how good you taste?" He asks, as if you aren't parting your lips for him regardless. You nod, all pathetic and needy as your tongue rests flat for him to do as he pleases - which, at the moment, is pushing your slick-covered panties into your mouth. Thinks they'll probably help. Will muffle your whines, at least. Works a treat as you whimper a little when he taps your jaw. 'Close your mouth', he's saying silently - and so you do.

He pulls back a little, fingers dipping to slide between your folds, eyes on your face, still. Smirks. Uses the fingers that aren't exploring your slippery cunt to squeeze at your chest. Your eyes are so wide. You whimper. He deliberately didn't stuff your underwear completely in your mouth. Likes seeing the satin. Likes knowing how willing you are to do anything for him. His thumb swipes over the slick on your nipple. Massages it in - and decides it's a waste. Leans down to latch his lips around your hardened bud.

He's the one whining now. Loves the way you feel in his mouth. Loves licking the taste from your skin. The fingers toying with your folds search for your slit, and push themselves into you as Jeongguk sucks on your nipple.

Not a boob guy, not a boob guy, not a boob guy - and yet as he pulls himself back, releasing you with a slight pop from the suction of his lips leaving your nipple, he smiles. Watches the way your tit wobbles, all soft, nipples hard, desperate for his return. He pushes his fingers deeper inside of you. Tells you how much he's missed them.

He reaches up to hook your panties in his fingers again. Pulls them from your mouth. Tosses them down. The way you're whimpering deserved to be heard, he decides.

His lips press a chaste kiss to your other nipple. Tongue flicks. He sucks. Just for a second. He's got places to be; a cunt plugged with his fingers that he's dying to taste again. Trailing down your skin, his lips leave a pretty dewy trail.

You hadn't been expecting the night to end like this, so while you're nice and neat and trimmed, your pussy is a little less bare than normal. Jeongguk likes it. Would never impose his preferences, but knows that this is it. Always has been. Enjoys the way your slick catches in your hair; how messy you look for him. Your juices string across your folds, and decides he can't keep his tongue away any longer.

The first lick is slow. Flat. He whines against you. Stalls his fingers, 'cause he wants to focus on the sensation; how warm you are, how delicious he thinks you taste. His tongue flicks as he reaches the northernmost point of your folds, and the way your body shudders a little is indication enough that he knows exactly where to focus. Of course he does. Your clit has swollen just as much as your folds, desperate for a little relief.

He doesn't give you it. Not yet. The lewd sounds of his fingers pushing back into your cunt makes him smirk. You're so unbelievably wet. Wetter than he thinks he's ever had you - and you've never been exactly dry for him. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe you've missed him. Maybe it's both. When his tongue presses back into your folds, you know it's neither of those things.

You're soaked because he just knows what he's doing. Understands your body. Drags his tongue up and down your cunt, fingers fucking themselves into you. The sensation is unbearable. You need more - and more is what he gives you when his spare hand eases your lips apart, spreading your pussy so that he can get better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue massages against you ever so gently. He's careful not to be too aggressive - until he spits at it.

"Shit," you whine, letting your back sink into his sheets. You'd been watching, but now all you want to do is feel . You're scared that watching him - his pretty lashes splayed over the top of his cheeks, his dewy, wet, nose nudging your clit, the way his tongue laps against it- will finish you off too quickly. And that's before you even consider the mirror on the far wall, and the way his broad back looks perfectly positioned with your legs hooked over his shoulders.

He spreads his spit with his thumb. Smirks as your body shudders. "You okay, B?"

"Mhmm," you mumble, teeth biting the pad of your palm beneath your thumb. You're trying to keep quiet.

"Asked you a question," he says as his thumb builds speed, flicking over you gently. He's careful, but controlled. Your body writhes from his touch, legs pushing down on his shoulders, encouraging his face back to where he belongs. He almost whispers as his lips ghost your clit. "Tell me you're okay. Chess is always an option."

Why the fuck you'd wanna play chess is beyond you - and then you remember. Oh, he's so attentive. So kind. So gentle. So deserving of a blowjob.

"I'm okay," you promise, and Jeongguk finally lets his lips wrap around your clit. There's a provocative nature to the way he lets himself get all breathless and grunty. His tongue licks tenderly against your clit, but his fingers have been going for so long he's scared he'll cramp.

The way you whimper when he pulls them out is like music to his ears. Needy and pathetic. Gets his cock all hard.

You loved being plugged by him. Love the fullness he gives you. Hate to lose it.

His hands push back your thighs now. He studies you. Watches the clear fluid leak from you. Knows that your pussy must be desperate for his cock. Doesn't want to let any go to waste, so quickly licks it up. Sinks his tongue into the entrance of your hole. Can't go too far, but doesn't care to. Just wants to tease. To taste you. Drink nectar straight from the source.

One of your hands clasps over his fingers by your thigh. The other tenderly scratches at his scalp. You love his hair like this, all messy and indicative of the fact he's been up to no good. As he pulls away from you, lips glossy, a string of slick briefly keeping him attached to you, lip ring coated in the very essence of you, you decide you never want another face between your legs again. He's too pretty. You'll always compare.

He looks up at you with total adoration, a lopsided grin on his face as you scratch behind his ear. He's well aware he must look like a fucking puppy dog, but he doesn't care.

"You're so good," you tell him. Want him to know. Smirk, because you're aware of the dog parallels, too. "Such a good boy."

That shouldn't make Jeongguk's cock twitch as much as it does.

The hand in his hair encourages him back down, and he decides to show you just how good he really can be. His tongue roams between your folds, licking, and lapping. He's fast, and he's intentional, lips pouting as they press kisses against you, and even more so when they suck your sensitive bud between them.

Eyes closed, hands in his hair, legs wrapping around his head, you think of how pretty he is; how unspoilt his features are. You've never seen a nose so perfectly sloped or a cupid's bow so idyllic. It's the perfect ridge for your juices to gather, and Jeongguk knows this. Already isn't looking forward to his shower, 'cause he doesn't wanna lose the scent of you.

His pace increases. Fingers sink back into you. He's taking you for all you're worth; will win your orgasm fair and square. Needs it. Thinks he'll die without it.

The sounds of Jeongguk eating your pussy echo into his room; his fingers pushing you to the point of no return as his tongue massages you to a hedonistic state of being. The pressure in the very pit of your tummy builds. Your grip on his hair tights. You curse. Whimper.

"Right there. Fuck . Right there."

He doesn't ease. Gets faster. Edges and edges until he can edge no further. The wave crashes over; your release dizzying and detrimental all in one blow. It jolts through you, legs shaking, hot walls clenching, breathless mewls of pleasure letting Jeongguk know just how well he did. He doesn't stop. Pushes you further. Gets you gasping.

"Gguk," you whimper. "I- Fuck."

He nods against you. Doesn't stop. Lets his nose nestle into your folds. Holds his tongue back, just to say, "this cunt... fuck ."

You giggle, now. Jeongguk feels you tightening as you do so. Eases his fingers from you. Keeps you spread apart. Wants to see how messy you are - but is cut short when you say, "c'mere."

He doesn't even think about it. Just discards himself of his clothes and comes to join you on his bed. Will do anything you ask of him. There's a silly little smile on his pussy-drenched lips as his head nestles next to yours, face still covered in glitter. He's so heavenly like this; so angelic when he's unmistakably yours.

You aren't really thinking as you move closer. Your natural inclination is to kiss him, for a job well done. You realise just in time. Stop yourself. Grin as you nudge your nose against his, not caring for the fact he's covered in your cunt.

He grins, too. Laughs a little. "Was that okay?"

You nod. Wanna kiss him so badly. Speak, just stop yourself. Echo a thought you've shared before. "You really should start an only fans."

He laughs again. It's hearty and wholesome, and pure - or as pure as it can be, when he's covered in evidence of making your pussy cum. Neither of you really care for cleaning up just yet. His smile is too big. Dimples too deep. Lines beneath his eyes too telling of his happiness. God, he's missed you.

"I'd be no good on my own," he tells you. "Would need you to help me out."

You protest. Tell him to buy one of those fake pussy fuck-toys. Says it's all he needs. He corrects you. Tells you they're fleshlights, but doesn't tell you he's got one hidden in the back of his drawer from a particularly dry spell.

"No, not those," you say. "I mean like, the full torso ones. The ones with tits."

"Why would I want one of them?" He smirks, as his hands are quite literally squeezing at your boobs. He's just keeping them warm. That's all. "Ass guy."

You don't even dignify him with a verbalised response. Just tilt your head down to where Jeongguk is rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

"What?" He feigns indifference.

"Your lies will catch up with you," you promise him. He pushes your tits up as far as he can, dipping down to suck delicately on your nipples. Just for a couple of seconds. Maybe five. Six. Okay, ten - but you feel so nice in his mouth, so soothing - and then it's twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty.

He switches nipples. Repeats. Pulls away. Is so hard he thinks he might cum prematurely if he doesn't get a release soon.

You've completely altered his sense of desire. Ruined him for anyone else. You'd argue you've made him better. Deep down, he'd know it to be true.

"Gguk?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles a little lazily against your skin.

You toy with his hair, raking your finger through his silky waves. Any product he had been wearing in it seems to be redundant now, your hands too busy messing with it for it to hold its shape. He had looked so pretty all night.

Looks prettiest, now.

"I'm sorry I stole your chance to have a New Year's kiss," you say, thinking of how many girls must have wanted him.

The smile on his face falters a little. He's quiet for a moment, then speaks with absolute sincerity. "Meant what I said. I've a whole year for kisses, B. They can wait. Wanted to be with you when New Year came in."

"I feel bad," you whisper.

"Don't." He opens his eyes, and sees how stark your self-imposed guilt is. Your hands are still toying with his hair, so he holds onto your wrists and rests the pad of his thumb in the palm of your hand. Is contented when your fingers close down on it. He shakes your hand a little, and smiles tenderly. "Don't. Really, B. Are you sad?" He asks. "That you didn't have one, I mean? Did you want one?"

Answers are complex when they're both yes and no; much like this one. You would have wanted one for the sake of enjoying a silly little tradition - but you didn't wanna kiss a stranger, and didn't want to kiss those close to you, either.

And so you deflect with a joke. "Why? Are you offering?"

Stupid joke. Stupid fuckin' joke .

Jeongguk knows it's a joke. Weighs up how he could respond. Sincerity seems too heavy. Joking back seems too careless.

And so he tries honesty.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I am."

His lips ghost yours, 'cause he'll never be the one to put pressure behind them first. He wants to. Is dying to.

Thinks, in classic Jeongguk style, that he'll die if can't do it one day soon.

The way you always get so close to him, suffocate him in your hair and the scent of your perfume, drives him mad. He's spent so many hours trying not to kiss you. Has never shared the taste of your tongue, but has shared oxygen with you. Thinks there's nothing to be scared of - but knows that you are.

He'll never ridicule your fears. Not intentionally.

And so he is patient, and perfectly restrained with you.

Some say it's a virtue.

Yet as you wish he'd just do it - rip the band aid - you can't help but think of it as a vice.

He'll never do you wrong. Sometimes you wish he would.

But that's the thing about wishes. There's no divine intervention from an arbitrary God. No stars changing alignment. The luck you manifest is yours and yours alone. Wishes come true because you will it to be that way.

Jeongguks grip on your waist tightens as your nose nudges deeper against his. There's a deliberate nature to your movements; how your hand rests on his jaw and how your leg hooks over his hip. The fluidity of your bodies together makes it so easy.

The grip on your waist is diverted to your ass. His fingers squeeze. Lips pout. Hips roll.

He husks your name. Not disco ball. Not Byeol. Your actual fucking name. Fucking whines against your lips. Can barely fuckin' breathe. "Please."

Your lips brush his. No pressure. Just aligning. Seeing how his lip ring feels. Jeongguk's semi begins to stiffen as he rubs himself against you again. His breathing is fucked.

Slowly - nervously, timidly - you slip your lips between his. Sink into the space left between them. Your bottom lip is plush between his. He doesn't press down. He waits. Waits and waits and waits. Has been waiting for months. What hurt will a few seconds do?

The hand you're resting on his jaw pulls him closer. Dictates his moves. This is all up to you.

The way your body nervously awaits the pressure you're refusing to apply is so telling. The delicate buds of your nipples that Jeongguk has grown to adore are hard against his bare chest. He's having to be careful as he rubs up against you, because your pussy is getting wetter and wetter. Coated in everything you are, Jeongguk's throbbing cock slides between your folds, massaging you in a way that you'll never grow tired of.

Jeongguk wants to speak; to encourage you.

Any words spoken would result in the closing of his lips and the removal of your ability to choose this - and so he stays quiet. Moans a little when the friction of his foreskin sliding back against your wet folds gets a little too good.

You smile. Like the way it feels. Can feel the slick build, then leak from the depths of your cunt. Know that you're one overly-eager rut away from him fucking himself into you.

Maybe you should pull away. Maybe you should let him fuck you instead.

But you've come so far.

You're safe. Warm. Content. With your favourite person in the whole entire world.

If you can't kiss him, then who the fuck can you kiss?

You still your hips. So does he. Deepen the position of your lips, until you know they can go no further. His nose is nestled next to yours, a shallow breath reminding you that life will go on - you'll still breathe - even if your lips close down on his.

He's always told you that he's not scared of you.

It's time to reciprocate that.

And so silently, as you press your lips down into his, you let go of a fear that's been holding you back for far too long.

It takes Jeongguk a moment to kiss you back. He wants to be sure you're sure.

But you are.

His lips slowly accept this new sensation; the softness of your bottom lip, the feeling of your nose as it nudges against his, the pining sensation that's so often left on his lips being remedied.

He's kissing you. Slowly, silently, serenely. It lasts for hours, but also for just a second. You're not sure which is more accurate as your lips naturally part for a moment; to breathe. To assess. To realign. To repeat.

He kisses you again. Once. Twice. Deeper, a third time. His hips begin to rut. His moans vibrate against you. The slipperiness of your pussy is juxtaposed to the innocence of such pure kisses. Lips still on his, you reach down to where your bodies are so well acquainted, it's like interrupting a conversation. Your nimble fingers wrap around Jeongguk's length. He moans. Wants to say something, but can't. Doesn't want to stop kissing you.

You move your hips. Line him up. Nod into the kiss. A hard breath exhales from his nose against your cheek, his whine echoing into your mouth as the tip of his cock penetrates your entrance. The fit is tight - snug - but so welcome. It's like coming home, he thinks.

"You're so fucking good," he whines into your lips, then presses down against them once more. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me."

He means it. You are good for him. Give him somewhere he belongs; somewhere he'll never feel alien. A girl full of galaxies, yet he's home no matter which cosmic entity you remind him of on any given day of the week.

You whine a little as his hips pulse up, pushing his dick into you. He's so big, and you're still so sensitive from how well he ate you out earlier, but you think you'd rather die than not see this through. You'll take the overstimulation, take whatever he'll give you, just to feel that fullness you only get from him.

Jeongguk grunts as he fucks himself into you. Gets breathless. Gets moany. Gets mean. Nasty.

"Gonna nut inside you," he tells you. You smirk against his lips. You love it when he gets all chatty and tells you all kinds of shit he never would if he wasn't on the brink of an orgasm. "God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up with my cum. Gonna fill you so well. Fill you forever."

That's not exactly how anatomy works and you go to tell him as such - but he changes position. Gets you on your back. Sits on his heels. Grips your waist with one hand, your chest with the other. Squeezes. Gets you whining. He pulses his hips slowly. Once. Fuck . Twice. Yes . And then he's back to a pace that feels more like him; fast and rough.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours is almost as loud as the breathless moans you can't be bothered to hide. He's making you feel so good as he pumps himself into you. It's only fair he knows just how well he's doing.

He squeezes at one of your boobs. Pinches your nipple. Pulls a little. Makes you moan. Does the same to the other side. Watches as they move from the momentum of his hips. Is fucking obsessed. Can't believe he wasted so many years convinced he was an ass guy. Loves your ass, granted, but fuck .

And when your hand sinks down to play with your clit while he's fucking his fat cock into your tight hole? God. Jeongguk thinks he might just die.

Tells you so.

"Gonna kill me off, you are."

You giggle. The way your pussy throbs around him? Yeah. Chances of death? Rapidly increasing.

"Feel good?" you check, just in case.

He nods. Wishes you could experience what it's like to fuck you; how good feel. How much he loves being trapped inside you. Makes his already desperate cock throb when he has those moments of clarity; he's fucking you. His cock? It's inside you. It's a simple thought process, but one that always overwhelms him.

Sinking down to suck on your nipples, tits in a white-knuckle death grip, Jeongguk knows if he thinks in any great depth, then that will be it. He'll cum. He wants this to last. Knows it can - but also knows your pussy is gonna make him cum so so soon.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost doesn't notice when you call his name. If it weren't for your hand cupping beneath his chin and pulling him down, he might not have realised at all. "Gguk?"

He follows your lead. Is about to sink his lips in yours when he replies, "Yeah, baby?"

He doesn't mean to call you that. Knows he absolutely should not have called you that. Kisses you again to distract from the fact he did. Ruts into you faster. Harder. Revels in the tightness of your walls, and the softness of your lips.

Knows he should check what you needed, but it was nothing, Just wanted him to look at you. But he'd called you baby. Oh, you're all sorts of fucked up. Try not to think about it. Your distraction method? A kiss . The waters are getting so muddy. This is so bad. Detrimental.

But fuck. He's close. So close. Doesn't wanna stop; any of it. Doesn't wanna stop fucking you. Doesn't wanna stop kissing you. God. He can't believe he can . Can't believe he knows what your moans sound like when they're vibrating into his mouth. Can barely wrap his head around the fact your tongue is in his mouth. He thinks he's going crazy. Thinks he might have already died. There's no way he can feel this at home inside another person's body.

But he does.

Knows that there's no pussy that's ever gotten him like this. Would be foolish to think you're the only person who will ever make him feel this way, but he quite enjoys playing the fool.

Jeongguk's skin is clammy. Sweat beads on his skin. Some of it catches on your skin as you move your hands from his back to cup his sharp jaw, and find yourself obsessed . Primitive desire, you think. Just like Jeongguk's obsession with your scent. All just survival of the fittest, built to breed, type shit. Of all the people he could fuck his sperm into, his body seems to think you'd be a good match. He trusts it. Agrees with it.

"Fucking me so well," you tell him. "Working so hard."

He nods, forehead resting in the crook of your neck. "Working so hard, B. Wanna make you feel good."

There are no words to articulate the way Jeongguk feels inside of you. No size grand enough, no adjective complimentary enough. No sensation even close to the euphoria that comes with being fucked by Jeon Jeongguk.

You press a tiny little kiss to his lips. "You do." And then you kiss him again. Deeper. Tug on his bottom lip with his teeth. Get him whining. His cock stalls. Left leg begins to shake. His right will follow, but it's always in that order. Left, then right. The way he whimpers into your mouth makes you wanna edge him for all of eternity - but he deserves this orgasm.

"Where should I- Fuck. Byeol, I'm there. I'm gonna- Fuck . Where do you want it?"

"Tits," you say without a second thought. You wanna watch him cum. Wanna see it. Wanna see how pretty his cock looks as his cum pulses out of it.

You hate how it feels when Jeongguk pulls out - how empty you are - but when he's shakily getting himself in position, jaw hanging slack, brows threaded together, lewd moans escaping his mouth as he wanks him over your tits, you know its worth it.

"That's it," you encourage. "All over my tits."

Jeongguk curses. Tightens the way he's straddling over you. Tugs at himself. Loses his fucking mind when your hand wraps around his. He lets go. It's all you; one hand around his shaft, the other softly playing with his balls. "Yeah. Yeah, Like that. Oh, fuck."

His legs shake; torso tenses. Has to grab onto his headboard just to keep himself from fucking keeling over. He's stimulated to a point he doesn't think he's reached before. Doesn't even feel like his body is his.

"Cumming," he mumbles. "I'm fucking cumming."

The way his cock twitches, balls tightening, is enough to confirm this. You keep going.

"All over my tits," you say again, just to really drive it home. "Good boy."

His whimpers are quiet as he unloads his cum onto you in thick, creamy spurts. You hold his cock against one of your tits, and let his spunk trail down them. A few more releases drip onto your skin. He sits up straighter. Looks at the mess. Wants to fuck you all over again.

He grips his still-hard cock and spanks it against your cum-covered tits. Massages his leaky head against them; rubs his cum into your skin. Lets go of his cock. Grips your tits instead. Pushes them both together, and watches as his cum smears all over them. Squeezes your nipples. Wants them in his mouth. Moves a little down the bed, and positions himself beside you. Encourages you to face him as his tongue licks against your cummy chest. He circles around your nipple. Takes it in his mouth. Sucks. One of his hands grips your other boob. Holds it close to his face so he can switch between your nipples, of which he does. Sucks for a moment or so. Teases with his tongue. Then switches. It's a back and forth that has you going insane.

And when his spare hand dips down to play with your folds? Sinks a finger back into your soaked cunt? Heaven. He fucks a second finger into you. A third. Keeps his lips suctioned around your nipples, utterly obsessed with the way it feels to have them in his mouth.

He's a little careless with his fingers, but it's exactly what you need to come undone again. You need it rough. Need him to override the overstimulation you're fighting. It doesn't take long. Your body writhes, but he keeps you close. Doesn't bother talking you through it. You both know it's his tongue against your sensitive nipples that's working the magic. Words would be wasted.

Your orgasm hits you hard. Fast. It waves over you so violently that you almost kick him. Jeongguk smirks as he begins to feel your orgasm contract around his fingers.

Your wetness seeps from you, Jeongguk still plugging your pussy. Your muscles are tight in a way he doesn't think he's experienced before. Your climax is violent. All consuming. You have to bite his pillow just to stop yourself from screaming.

It's never felt like this before. He doesn't relent. Is obsessed. It's so much wetter than usual. Your whimpers are different, too. The way your legs shake? The way you can't fucking breathe? How your pussy is quite literally clamping his fingers inside of you? It's all different. It's so much more than an orgasm.

He's never taken you this far beyond the point of a climax. Didn't know you could do this. Has only ever seen it in fucking porn. Sort of thought it was a myth - but you're squirting for him. Because of him. On him.

He will die, and you absolutely will be the cause of it.

"Fuck, B," Jeongguk curses against your lips as he realises what's happening. Keeps going. Fucks his fingers into you, still. His hand is getting wetter, still . You shake, still ; squirt, still . Jeongguk's gonna fuckin' die. That's all he can think about. Death, and pussy. His, and yours. Hell, and heaven. "That's it. Squirt for me, B. Such a good girl."

You nod, almost delirious from the pleasure he's administering. His fingers fuck into you still, your pussy contracting around him.

Eyes closed, teeth pressing down on your bottom lip, you can't think of anything except the sensation of your pussy giving itself up for him. The wave of pleasure was so intense that you hadn't noticed your release at first; not until the lewd sounds of his fingers inside of you became louder, and Jeongguk himself had realised.

You don't even really have grasp on the fact it happened. Knew that it could, but you've been the only person to ever get yourself that far. Never has someone else ever made you squirt. You don't think you ever really trusted anyone enough with your body to give it up entirely.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. There's nothing to be scared of.

"Koo," you whimper as you finally get some control over yourself, body jolting from the intensity of it all.

He's slow to withdraw his fingers. Doesn't want to, but also knows he has to be gentle.

"I know, baby," he husks a little breathlessly, as he presses a kiss into your shaky lips. "I know."

In all honesty, he doesn't know. Doesn't have a clue what you could possibly be thinking. Just knows he's feeling all sorts of fucked up, and that you probably are, too.

It's been a long night. You've both been through it.

But you both feel overwhelmingly at ease.

"Sorry," he whispers. Presses a kiss against your hair.

"Mhmm?" You question, still deliriously spent. There's so much to do. Sheets to change. Showers to be had. You just wanna laze with him a little while longer. "What for?"

Jeongguk holds you close. Doesn't wanna lose this, either. He knows how you get once the morning comes and regrets start creeping in. He's doing damage control early. Letting you know that it's okay.

"I broke your rules," he says, as if you weren't a willing participant.

You shake your head. You kissed him first. Kissed him when he called you baby. Rewarded him for his misdemeanours. Of course he'd be a repeat offender. You're just as much to blame.

"Don't do that."

"Apologise?"

"Don't put all the blame on you. It's not," you say, before leaning up to steal an ever-so-sacred kiss from his lips. "There. I did it. I broke them. My fault."

"B-"

"If you try and apologise I'm gonna think you regret it," you tell him.

Jeongguk shuts up. Plans to remain silent. Can't help himself, though. Thinks it's important you know how he feels about you, and the birds, and this whole fuckin' mess.

"I've never regretted a thing we've done, B. Never."

His tone consumes you. Is so serious. So sincere. It makes you nervous - so you deflect.

"What about that time we accidentally ordered the extra spicy tteokbokki?"

He smiles. Laughs. Is serene as he eases up. "Okay. One regret."

You kiss him. Lips soft. Touch tender. Just 'cause you can. Just 'cause you wanna.

Have resigned yourself to the fact this is one-night-only kind of thing; that come the next morning, you'll laugh about it.

'Can you believe we kissed?' 'Let's never do that again.' 'So weird.' 'Just a friendly kiss. Sort of like kissing a fish, actually.' 'I'm gonna sew your mouth shut one day.'

And so for now, as Jeongguk encourages you up - "c'mon. Shower. You get in. I'll sort the sheets. Will join you in a second, okay?" - and kisses you again before you leave, you revel in it.

You stand alone under the crashing water, wondering what the fuck you've just done. Contemplating how badly this will all end up biting you in the arse.

Jeongguk does much the same. Looks at himself in the mirror; naked and alone. Can see evidence of you all over his skin - scratch marks, pretty purple bouquets delivered by your lips, the sheen of your slick - and decides he likes himself better this way. Doesn't think he'll look like himself when it's all washed away.

He makes up his bed. Puts a fresh sheet down, and tosses the old one by his door, ready for a wash. Goes to chuck his pillows on the floor - and then just doesn't. If you want the space, he'll give you it, no questions asked. He doesn't want the space, though. Wants you in his bed again. Wants you close.

And as he comes to join you in the shower, a protective arm slinking around your waist, lips pressed into your neck, you know that you don't want to be alone. Not for the rest of the night, at least. The glitter might wash away, but this feeling? He's not certain.

You're not sure that waking up beside him will be sensible for your fragile heart, but can't stand the idea of not falling asleep beside him. He's so warm. It's the smart thing to do. Will save on his heating bill.

A good decision, you think.

But since when have you ever been good at those?

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook smut

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peachyjeonss · 2 years ago

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SUNKISSIN’ | J.JK

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Jungkook x Lifeguard!Reader

Genre: strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, Smut

Warnings: Reader has a belly piercing, mentions of getting high, Jk and reader have nose piercings, size kink, slight daddy kink, Jk is pretty dominant even when it’s not sexual, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), readers kind of a bitch at first, Jk is also kind of a dick at first, clueless reader at times, Jk gets jealous, jk eats her out, reader gets jk off, ass slapping, reader gets bent over the kitchen counter, reader’s kind of a spoiled brat, brat-taming, choking, tummy bulge, praise, degradation, cum eating, brat tamer jk, dirty talk, slight exhibition, Jk is kind of an aggressive person (not in a toxic way obv),

Rating: M

Synopsis: Summer has begun and so has your job as a lifeguard at the Stillwells Country Club — Which means; sunny weather, blue pools and cute bathing suits! You’re looking forward to it; just another normal summer working with friends, but your summer takes a turn when you see his sweet eyes and intimidating stature at the staff car wash.

A/N: This is my first posttt, here’s the teaser!

His sunglasses lean on the tip of his nose as he looks up at the sky, breathing out.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in a minute.” Yoongi laughs, sitting next to him as he lathers sunscreen on his pale arms.

“Yeah, surprisingly work hasn’t come to my mind yet.” Jungkook admits, letting out a breathless chuckle as he kicks his feet in the water.

Yoongi hums, “Me neither, and I’m not even a sun person.”

“That’s what the rich life does to you, I guess.” Nari giggles, swimming to them.

Taehyung follows suit, pushing his falling sunglasses back up his nose. “Yeah, I’m about to order a pina-colada just ‘cause.”

“Don’t abuse the free membership either.” Jungkook warns, looking back down at his friend. “It was nice of her to do this for us.”

“Yeah, Aya’s always been pretty sweet.” Taehyung agrees, “She has her spoiled moments though, can't take the rich out of the girl completely.”

Nari smiles, “She’s better than me, I wouldn’t even interact with you peasants if I had country club money.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re not rich.” Yoongi teases, “You’d be horrible.”

“I suppose.” Nari shrugs, looking around before her mouth falls into an O, “This resort even has good-looking lifeguards...”

Jungkook cocks a brow at her, last time he remembers the lifeguard was some scrawny dude with a permanent scowl. Looking up, Jungkook sits up quickly, pushing his sunglasses over his head at the familiar figure he sees switching seats with the old lifeguard.

“Isn’t that the girl you checked out the other day?” Yoongi asks, his eyes raking over your body shamelessly, making Jungkook shove him gently.

“Yeah, it is.” Jungkook smirks, watching as you offer some kids a cute smile, telling them to watch their step as they run. Even in the basic red swimsuit the lifeguards were required to wear you still somehow managed to look like sin. “She’s friends with Aya, right?”

“Yeah, they're actually really close.” Taehyung says in a forgetful manner, too preoccupied in doggy paddling around his friends. “Been friends since middle school.”

“Shit, so they're like sisters then.” Nari corrects, “Middle school to college is cool, they saw each other get out of the awkward stage.”

“If she even had one.” Jungkook laughs, still eyeing you.

“They say the prettiest girls have the most awkward phases.” Nari shrugs, “I mean, look at me, gorgeous and my awkward stage was horrendous.”

“Yeah, sure.” Yoongi laughs, wincing when Nari pinches his leg.

♡ If you like this story, comment under here to be on the taglist for when it comes out!

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starbandit · 8 months ago

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Attention (J.J.K & M.Y.G)

Summary: Your boyfriends show you a good time

contains- implied established poly relationship, fem!reader, slight humiliation, praise, oral (f!receiving), dom!yoongi, switch!jk, sub!reader, fingering, hickeys, nipple play, ruined orgasm, slight voyeurism (yoongi watches jungkook eat y/n out), orgasm denial MDI 18+!!!!

word count- 1.2k/unedited

You swear your heart is about to beat right out of your damn chest. You want to reach down and wipe your clammy hands on your pants, but those had been long discarded, thrown into a pile somewhere in the living room.

Your heart calms slightly when your boyfriend pulls you back in the chair to rest against his clothed chest, fingers tracing down your sides to come to rest on your bare tummy. His lips tickle the side of your neck before he sinks his teeth in, creating a red mark on the sensitive skin. “Can you spread your legs for me, baby?”

You know it's not actually a question, he’s telling you to do it, but you hum a response anyway and pick your legs up to be perched on the edge of the chair you two are on. Yoongi mutters a small praise as his hand trails down, fingers finding your clothed clit within seconds.

“So wet and pathetic already,” He teases. “We haven’t even done anything yet and you’ve already made a mess of your panties.”

A whine leaves your throat as your hips twitch up slightly for more friction. Your head falls back, resting on Yoongi's shoulder as you fall deeper into the pleasure coursing through your body. You nearly have a heart attack when a second set of hands find their way to your thighs.

“It’s just our Jungkookie.” Yoongi reminds you. How could you forget? He had been so quiet and patient, just watching as your face morphed with pleasure from Yoongi's ministrations. “Why don’t you get her out of these,” Yoongi snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin. “Soaked little things, babe?”

Jungkook wastes no time in helping you out of your underwear, quickly tossing them to the side before taking his spot in front of the chair on the floor. He sits back on his heels, waiting for his next task.

“Good boy,” Yoongi praises. “Do you see how wet she is?” His fingers find their place on your pussy again, pushing your juices around before pulling them away to admire them. Your cheeks heat up at the sight of them, glistening in the dim light of the bedroom. “You want a taste?”

Before you can even process what Yoongi has said, Jungkook is lunging forward and swirling his tongue around his fingers. He stares up at Yoongi, who lets a small groan rumble in his chest, before pulling off slowly with a loud pop.

“She tastes so good, Hyung.” Jungkook bites his lip. “Can I touch her? Please?”

“Go ahead.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as soon as Yoongi gives Jungkook the greenlight. He instantly plunges two fingers in, curling them to stroke the walls of your pussy. Your thighs shake slightly at the feeling and your head goes cloudy. His skilled fingers continue to dance along your walls as his lips make contact with your inner thigh, the cold metal of his lip ring tickling the sensitive skin. A shiver runs through your body as your skin prickles.

Yoongi has dipped his head back into your neck, sucking little red marks into the skin. He leaves a trail starting at your shoulder, all the way up, up, up to the sensitive spot behind your ear. His slender fingers have found purchase on your nipples, rolling the sensitive bud between the calloused pads.

“S-shit,” Your body begins to shake, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Suddenly, everything stops and your high trickles down to an annoying buzz. You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back as your chest heaves.

Yoongi chuckles behind you. “Baby, we have to let our boy have a little treat before you go and ruin the fun.” He trails back down, one hand finding its way to your thigh, pulling your leg up towards your chest. “Go ahead, darling, have a taste.”

Jungkook never breaks eye contact. Big doe eyes look up at you, his irises completely black, as he takes a slow lick from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He hums as his tongue curls back into his mouth, eyes fluttering as he swallows.

Yoongi's grip on your thigh tightens as your breath hitches, Jungkook diving back in to lick at your clit with enthusiasm. He flicks his tongue against the bundle of nerves countless times, the sinful noise echoing in your ears. Your other leg falls over his shoulder only for a split second, before Jungkook is reaching up and pushing it, holding you open for him.

With the improved angle, Jungkook wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, slurping noises now filling the entire room. “Oh fuck,” A loud moan rips through your body at the new sensation and your head lolls back.

“Keep your eyes on him.” Yoongi growls in your ear. His tongue quickly peeks out, lightly licking the shell of your ear. “Be good and I’ll make sure both of you cum more than once.”

Your eyes immediately flick back to Jungkook, who is watching your every expression. His bangs are plastered to his face, and you reach a weak hand down to push the hair back. He whines against your pussy, eyes watering. You give a loose tug to his hair, a small smirk painting your face as his eyes roll back. A broken whimper leaves his lips, muffled by the walls of your pussy.

You nearly jump straight out of your skin when Jungkook sinks his fingers back in, moving back up to continue his ministrations on your clit with his tongue. Yoongi decides he’s had enough, his free hand snaking up to close around your throat. He tilts your head back and captures you in a wet kiss, tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

His cock stands tall and hard, pressed up against your back. You can feel the precum seeping through the thin sweats he had on, cock jumping at every little whimper. “Are you gonna cum?” He questions as he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips.

You find the strength to nod, the ball of fire in your tummy expanding more and more by the second. “Please, Yoongi, I wanna cum.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop, instead he speeds up, licking more enthusiastically than he was before. If he didn’t stop soon, you weren’t going to need Yoongi's permission. You could feel your eyes rolling back and your vision getting cloudy as the pleasure tingles up your spine.

“Don’t cum until I tell you.” You want to argue back so bad, want to tell him there isn’t going to be another option soon. A sob leaves your mouth as a tear trails down your cheek. Yoongi gently wipes it. “It's okay, you can cum, baby.”

Another sob leaves your mouth as your legs shake. Fire spreads through your entire body as you cum, Jungkook still giving you licks to push you through. Stars explode behind your eyelids.

You can still hear your heart beating in your ears as you come down from your high. Jungkook's hands offer calming circles on the backs of your thighs as Yoongi whispers soft praises. You keep your eyes closed for a few more moments, savoring the attention before peeling your heavy eyelids back open.

“How about we give some attention to our boy, hm?” Yoongi questions softly. Was there ever a time you would say no to that?

276 notes · View notes

bteezxyewriter12 · 9 months ago

Text

Competition

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 6.9k

Includes- Som much sex, oral, pussy eating, blow job, deepthroating, throat fucking, cum eating, semi public sex (getting caught), dacryphilia, dirty talk, wall sex, floor sex, cock riding, sex from behind, missionary, rough sex, slow sex, tummy bulge, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

Yoongi POV

Walking into the dressing room, I find my best friend across it, whispering with Hobi

I roll my eyes as I walk towards her

I've been looking for her for ten minutes

She wasn't answering her phone and now I see why

"You really giving me a hard time?", Hobi says to her as I get closer

They're both so engrossed in their conversation they don't see me coming

"It was a one time thing Hobi", she answers

My curiosity is piqued

What was a one time thing?

He snorts, "Right. That's why I slept over and we kept fucking right?"

Shock enters my system at his words

They kept what?

Did he say fucking?

What the fuck, they slept together?

When?

"That's why you were crying, begging for my tongue over and over, coming in my mouth again and again", he says, "Because it was a one time thing"

She was begging for him?

No way

An insane amount of jealous explodes in my veins

"Look Hobi, yeah you're good ok. And I'll admit it, no one has gone down on me as good as you ok"

Bullshit

He is not better at oral than I am

I'm the king of oral

I've never gotten any complaints, in fact all I've gotten is praise and begged to keep going

There's no fucking way he's better

No way

"And you did fuck me really good. But that's all it was. Sex. And I'm not sure it would be a good idea for us to keep fucking"

"Why not? I'm attracted to you and you're obviously attracted to me. I know what it would be. Just sex. A friend's with benefits thing. I'm game for it"

Friends with benefits?

When the fuck did he think of that situation?

"Friends with benefits?", she repeats

No, not happening

He can't have her

He can't

Lately my feelings towards her have changed

To where I see her more than a friend

But as a fuck buddy or a girlfriend I haven't figured out yet

But I want to be around her all the time, spend time with her

And if she does this friends with benefits thing with Hobi then I'll never know

But there's one thing I know for sure

I can eat her out and fuck her better than he ever could

"Let me know", he says to her then leaves, going towards a makeup artist

She shakes her head, then turns to me, jumping when she sees me a few feet behind her

"Oh hey Yoongi", she says nervously

And I make up my mind

"I have to talk to you", I say

"Oh, yeah ok", she agrees

"Come on"

She follows me out of the dressing room and I go into the first empty room I find

She enters and I take a breath as I close the door

"You slept with Hobi?", I ask, turning around

Her eyes widen, "You heard"

"I mean you guys were talking about it in the middle of the dressing room and you weren't exactly whispering"

"I uh...yeah. I did"

"When?"

"Uh last week"

Just last week?

Where the fuck was I?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs, looking down, "I don't know. I guess I was worried you'd be mad"

The thing is I'm not mad

Or maybe I am but at the moment the biggest thing I feel is jealousy

"I heard him...brag about his skills"

Her face turns red, "Yeah, I didn't know he was a bragger like that"

And it's now I decided to take the plunge

"I can do it better than him"

Her eyes snap to mine, complete shock in them

"Uh...what?"

"I can do what he did better", I say, holding eye contact, "I can eat you out better. I can fuck you better. I can make you feel better"

Her mouth drops, "What the hell Yoongi? It's not a competition"

But it is

Hobi unknowingly started a competition because of my feelings for her

If I didn't have feelings for her, I wouldn't care if she slept with him

But I care

"I can show you I'm better", I tell her

"I..uh...I....uh..", she trails off, "I uh...I don't know if we should do this"

She's hesitating but she wants to

If she didn't she would of said no immediately

"Do you trust me?"

She looks at me sharply, "Of course Yoongi. That's not even a question"

"So trust me now"

She hesitates for a split second, then nods, "I do. Ok"

Her words sink in and I stride right to her, crashing my lips against hers in a searing kiss that takes my breath away and lights a fire inside me

Her arms move around my neck and it feels so right

I move my arms around her, pulling her as close to me as she can get, my tongue against hers, my body screaming for hers

As I kiss her, I undo her jeans, slipping my hands under the waistband of them and her panties

Breaking the kiss, I kneel down on my knees, pulling everything off her, my eyes on her small pussy

So pretty, fuck

"Yoongi, oh fuck", she moans when I lick her small clit, feeling it spasm

Fuck, I like that

Pushing her legs open, I push my tongue on her, licking up her cunt slowly, feeling her on my entire tongue, taking in how she tastes

And fuck she's good, so sweet, like fucking candy

How she tastes this good I don't know but I'm glad she does

"Yoongi, oh my fucking god", she moans as my tongue continues to pleasure her

I move the tip of my tongue up in-between her slit, her swollen lips parting for my tongue, her juice all over my mouth, dripping down to my neck

"Mmm", I moan, moving one of her legs over my shoulder, pushing my face deeper into her cunt, my tongue flying up and down

My god, I can't get enough of eating her cunt

It's just everything, the feel of her, the taste, the scent, she's intoxicating

Circling her hole, I tease her, feeling her legs shake under my hands, hearing her cute whines

Dragging it out a few more times, I finally plunge my tongue in her cunt, the immediate clenching sending pleasure down to my hard cock

Licking out of her hole, I run my tongue all the way up, flicking her clit when I get there

"Oh my god, Yoongi!"

Chuckling, I run my tongue down and wiggle back into her pulsing hole, moaning into her

Her hand snakes down to my hair, grabbing a fist full as she moves her hips, fucking her pussy on my tongue

I'm so here for it, gripping her ass hard and I move my tongue all over her- in her hole, between her swollen lips, over her clit, everywhere my tongue touches I lick her

Rolling my tongue over her clit again, she moans, "There Yoongi"

I press my tongue against her pulsing clit, massaging it as her shouts of pleasure fill the room

I'm enjoying this so much, it's actually insane

I don't think I've ever liked going down on someone as much as I do right now

Sucking her clit into my mouth, I tug and play, her pussy gushing all over me, drowning me and I love it

I slurp on her clit like my life depends on it, reveling in the constant throbs against my tongue

"Yoongi", she moans, my name sounding so pretty in her voice

Her hand tightens in my hair, her hips desperately snapping into my face, her legs trembling

I don't stop and the next suck has her screaming my name, coming hard

Dropping my tongue down, I shove it up her cunt, letting her cum around it while I use my fingers to rub her clit

"Yoongi, oh my god. Yoongi!", she whines, her pussy clenching my tongue over and over

I can't wait to feel her clench my cock like this

I swallow all her sweet cream, sucking around her hole to make sure I get it all

My mind is blown at how good her cum tastes

I mean it's cum

Shouldn't taste as good as this

Only when she finishes do I pull my tongue out and lick her cunt clean

Pressing my lips to her skin, I kiss up her body, sliding my hand on her cunt, playing with her clit

She shudders against me as I reach her neck, pressing peck after peck to her skin

"You taste so good", I whisper in her ear, burying my fingers in her and starting to move in her tight cunt, "So fucking sweet, like candy"

She moans and fuck, I can't get over how pretty it sounds

"Gonna wanna eat your pussy everyday", I tell her, loving how her body shivers against me, her hand grabbing my arm to hold on, "Gonna let me?"

Moving my thumb to her clit, I play with it while I fuck her with my fingers

"Yes", she whimpers

"Good girl"

Pressing on what I think is her spot, she cries out in pleasure, her hand squeezing my arm harder

Found it

"After you cum on my fingers, I wanna stuff you with my cock"

She makes a soft squeaking sound that's so cute

"I want this tight cunt around my cock. Want these swollen lips wrapped tightly around me. Wanna make your pussy cream around my cock"

"Fff..fuck", she moans

I keep moving my fingers, making sure I press on her spot every thrust in

"Wanna make my best friend cum for my cock", I say lowly

"Oh god"

I smirk as my thumb presses harder into her clit, her pussy throbbing tighter

"Gonna let me fuck you?", I ask

"Yes!", she yells, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Good girl"

Driving my fingers in she moans my name, coming

She floods my hand with cream and I keep fingering her through it

Then I pull my fingers out of her and look in her eyes as I shove my fingers in my mouth, sucking her cream off them

She gapes and I just smirk as I lick her cream from my palm

"Told you I loved the way you taste"

She just nods, her cheeks so red

"Gonna fuck you now"

She nods wordlessly again

Undoing my belt, I kick off my shoes and get my pants and boxers off, so ridiculously excited to be inside my best friend

She pulls my shirt off me, throwing it on the floor as my hands lift her up, her legs wrapping around me

She reaches down between us, aligning my cock to her hole, as she begs, "Please Yoongi. Fuck me. Want you to fuck me"

I can definitely do that

Moving closer, I push into her tiny hole, the pleasure of her stretching around me so fucking intense

"My god, you're fucking tight", I groan, slowly moving inch by inch inside her, her pussy sucking me in slowly and latching on tightly

"Mmm so big Yoongi", she cries, her head leaning against the wall, "Fuck your cock is so fucking big"

I smirk because yeah it is

Never had a complaint about my cock before

Shivers run down my back as I get all inside her, her soaked cunt throbbing so fast around my length

"Fuck Yoongi", she murmurs, her legs tightening around me, "God, your cock fills me so good"

"Yeah well your tiny cunt took me so well baby", I smirk, "Pulling me in like you wanted me inside you"

"I did", she moans, "I do"

"Good jagi. Want you too", I answer, pulling her shirt up and off, her bra following

I eye her big tits, moving one of my hands around one boob, squeezing softly

Pulling my cock out, I slam back inside, her moans fueling me to go faster

I get a fast hard pace going, splitting her cunt wide open, wrecking her

Her pussy takes me perfectly, clenching down as I move back in, her hands plunging in my hair, pulling as she cries out in pleasure

It feels so fucking good and I live for the way her cunt is pulsing and drenching my cock

Thrusting in, I slam into her spot, her pussy gushing juice out, her body arching off the wall

"Yes, there! Oh fuck! There", she cries as I indeed make sure my cock hits her there every single stroke

"Feels good?", I ask

"Yes", she nods, her body shaking in my arms as I fuck her tiny spot relentlessly

"Oh god, oh god", she chants, her eyes wet, a few tears escaping down her face

And that does nothing but turn me on even more

I move my hands up her back, pulling her right against me, her soft sweaty skin against mine, holding her tightly as I increase my thrusts, fucking her hard

And she just cries for more, asking me to go harder

"Yeah baby, cry for my cock", I urge her, watching the tears fall down her face, "Am I fucking you that good?"

"Yes!", she sobs, clinging onto me tightly

"Mmm yes jagi. Let me see those tears. I love it. Crying on your best friend cock, begging to fuck your sweet pussy harder"

"Yes, yes, yes", she whimpers

Fuck, I never had a girl want me this much

Never had a girl cry for me like she's doing

Never had a girl as wet as she is

"Fuck, listen to how wet you are for me. Listen to how good your sweet pussy takes your best friend's cock"

"Mmmhmmmm", she moans, her fingers twisting in my hair, the nails of her other hand digging into my shoulder, pleasure radiating off her body

"Sounds so pretty", I murmur, listening to the arousing sounds

I can listen to that all fucking day

"Yyy..Yoongi", she stammers, her body shaking with each stroke, her pussy impossibly tight around me

"Yeah jagi?", I ask, the pleasure so fucking intense, so goddamn good

"I...I....", she babbles, her eyes closing, her sobs more frequent

I know she's close

I can feel her

"Gonna cream my cock baby?", I tease, listening to her whimpers, "Decorate my cock with your cum?

She bites her lip, nodding

"Good girl", I murmur in her ear, "Cum around my cock baby. I want to feel this little pussy lose it"

"Yoongi!", she shouts, coming at the next thrust in

Her pussy spasms uncontrollably as she clings onto me, pleasure like I never felt before tidal waving into my body

I gasp, the bliss so much I have to try hard to keep standing as she screams my name over and over, her body shaking hard against mine

I've never felt like this from a girl's orgasm

And I'm immediately addicted

Once she finishes, I kneel down on the floor, laying her on the carpet

I can't stand anymore, not after that pleasure

And I need to feel it again but I don't think I can take another of her orgasms without falling

Pushing her legs to her chest, I resume pounding into her little pussy

"Yoongi", she cries, her hands gripping my forearms so tightly

"I need you to cum again", I tell her, watching her swollen pussy lips petal open for me each time my dick slides inside her

"Yeah", she whimpers, taking the pounding I'm giving her, her pretty body soaked in sweat

Leaning down, I lay my tongue on her stomach and lick up to her neck, her sweat tasting so fucking good

I think anything on her will taste good

"So good baby", I smirk, sitting back up and destroying her little pussy

She whimpers, her eyes on mine

"Oh my fucking god!", I hear

Snapping my head up to the door, I glare at Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung, standing in the doorway, each one with shock on their face

When the fuck did the door open?

"Get out", I growl, stopping but still buried inside her, her begging for more

"I..uh..the shoot", Jungkook starts, his eyes wide as plates

"Yoongi! Don't stop!", she cries under me

"Oh my god", Tae mutters

"Get out!", I shout, making them jump

"Sorry!", Jimin yells, grabbing the door handle and slamming it closed

"Yoongi", she moans and I forget what happened, continuing thrusting into her

Her pussy is so messy, cream all over my cock, a thick ring of it around my base, driving me fucking crazy

"Fuck, look at you creaming my cock like this", I tell her, mesmerized, "Pretty little cunt swallowing my big cock so eagerly"

She nods, moaning, "Feels so good Yoongi. Fuck, more"

"I'll give you more", I growl, driving my cock deep in her hole, "I'll wreck your pussy until I'm the only one you want inside you. Until my cock is the only one you crave"

She nods, her tears so fucking pretty

"Oh yeah, that's what you want?"

"Yes", she whines, "And...and ..and"

"And what?", I demand, "Tell me what you want"

"I wanna swallow your cum", she whimpers

God, that's the dirtiest thing she's ever said to me and it's such a turn on

"Yeah baby?", I smirk, fucking into her harder, my cock throbbing, "Wanna suck my dick?"

She nods, gasping, "Please"

"Ok jagi", I agree, "Cum for me first then you can suck me off"

"Ok. Ok", she whines, more tears streaming down her gorgeous face

Burying inside her again, I hit her spot and watch her tiny hole spasm around my cock as she climaxes

"Yes baby, yes", I groan, ecstacy slamming into me as she screams my name, her pussy working my cock good

I keep moving, fucking her through it absolutely loving pushing through her tight cunt

When she finishes, I pull out, watching my cock and her hole stay connected through a string of her creamy cum

Fuck that is something I've never seen before and can get used to seeing

Moving next to her head, I grab her hair, moving my cock to her mouth

"Open"

She does, letting me push my cock in, her mouth sucking immediately, pleasure running up my spine

"Yes baby, fuck"

She sucks desperately, spit all over the place, her hand moving around my cock not in her mouth, jerking me off at the same time

"Fuck you're mouth is so good", I praise her, watching her push down on my cock more, her sucking driving me crazy, "You gonna take all of me?"

She nods, her gorgeous watery brown eyes looking up at me as she bottoms me out, choking around my length

I pull back a little so I don't hurt her but she shakes her head, going down again

Her throat spasms around my shaft as she swallows repeatedly, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine

"Ccc..can I fuck your throat?", I choke out, so close

She nods, keeping her mouth open for me

Holding her in place by her hair, I pull out then thrust back in, moaning from how utterly good it feels

I move over and over, her throat taking me just as good as her pussy does

I feel small sucking sensations every time I bottom out, awed that she's still blowing me

I watch her as I throat fuck her, listening to her moan around my dick

"I'm gonna cum", I groan, right there, "Gonna swallow all my cum for me?"

"Mmm hmm", she nods want in her brown eyes

That drives me over the edge and I bury my length and spurt my cum down her throat, the ecstasy feeling amazing

True to her word, she swallows eagerly, again and again, milking my cock desperately

"Joanne, fuck, yes good girl", I groan

When I finish, she stops, letting me pull out of her mouth

She closes her eyes, breathing hard

I sit next to her, running my fingers in her hair, breathing hard myself

This was seriously the best sex I ever hand

And my best friend gave it to me

Mind blown

After a minute, her eyes open and she struggles to sit up

I help her, her eyes slowly moving up to mine

I smile at her bewildered look, then lean down and kiss her

I don't know why I'm doing it, it just feels right

Breaking away, she says, "I think you're really late for the photo shoot"

I chuckle, "Yeah. Guess I should get going"

She nods

I stand up then help her up and we start the task of getting our clothes back on

Right before we're about to leave the room, I stop her

For some reason I don't want to be apart from her

I don't think about it as I ask, "Wanna come over after the photo shoot?"

She raises her eyebrow but smirks, "Yeah"

Then she walks out of the room

Ok then

I smile as I follow her

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

"Off now", she demands between kisses, her hands pulling at my boxers

As soon as I parked my car and we got into the apartment we're all over each other

It wasn't even a second inside before our lips were glued to each other's

We somehow managed to get into the living room, clothes strewn along the path we took

She drops my boxers and I step out of them, then start pulling her panties down

Kicking them off, she bangs her leg into the coffee table, groaning in my mouth

"Are you ok?", I ask, as she sinks to the floor, her hand against her calf

Kneeling down too, I move her hand, seeing a bruise already forming

"Jo-"

"Who cares?", she says, on her knees and pulling me back to her lips

Ok well if she doesn't care then I guess she's ok

I kiss her eagerly, just wanting to be back inside her

"Lay down", she says, breaking away from me

"Uh-", I start

"Lay down", she says, pushing me back, "I want to ride your dick"

Oh well ok then

I lay down, moving my legs under the coffee table

She immediately climbs in my lap and I'm hit with her gorgeous body that I neglected to look at before

I was too busy feeling and looking at her cunt

But goddamn her body is fucking gorgeous

Perfect

With huge boobs

She spreads her legs wide, her feet flat on the floor, her hand holding my dick up

Her hole is already leaking, some of it dripping to my tip, turning me on so much more

She aligns me to her hole, sinking down on my head

"Fuck", I moan, watching her sit more and more on my cock, the familiar tugging of her pussy so good

As soon as she bottoms me out, she's already moving, sliding up and down my dick, throwing my entire body into bliss

"Yes fuck", she whines, bouncing on my cock so hard, her boobs jiggling so much

Her arms move behind her, her elbows on the coffee table as she leans against it, riding my dick like no one ever has before

Her tight cunt is creaming my cock so much already, it's all over my lap, not just my dick

Her legs are spread so wide, I have an amazing view of her hole splitting open as she takes me back in, her swollen lips wrapped beautifully around my length

Her head falls back, her bounces so fast, hard as she moans so erotically

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes Yoongi. Oh my god Yoongi"

Hearing her moaning my name is such a fucking turn on

I want to hear it over and over, her voice so beautiful calling me

Her chest is heaving, beads of sweat trailing down her body towards her tiny pussy

She picks up her head, looking at me, lust in her eyes, her sweaty hair clinging to her body

Fucking ethereal

The sound of our skin slapping each other mixes with the loud squelching sound her drenched cunt makes when she takes me back in, making pornographic music sounding in the room

Add her moans to that and it's something I can listen to forever

"Yoongi!", she yells, "I'm gonna cum! Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum"

Somehow her bounces become more rapid, more wild, her cunt clenching my cock in a vice grip

"Can I cum on your cock?", she cries, "Please, wanna cum on your cock"

"Yes jagi. Fuck, cum for me", I shout, wanting to feel that ecstacy again

"Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!", she screams

Her body stiffens and shakes as she orgasms, squirt pouring from her cunt like a waterfall, completely soaking me

Her screams are beautiful and watching her cum is amazing as pure pleasure slams into my body

"Oh fuck", I moan, her cunt pulsing hard around my cock

"Again", she cries, as she finishes

Slipping down my dick, bottoming me out, she grinds against me, my head rubbing against her spot, "Again, Yoongi again"

"Yeah baby. Go ahead", I urge her

Her hips move quickly, hypnotically in a circular motion and I can't take my eyes away from her

As she grinds on me, her cunt spams hard around my cock, sending spikes of pleasure through my body

"Yes, yes fuck", she murmurs, her eyes closed, leaning back as she moves, "Fuck such a good cock. So fucking fat, so big. So fucking hard"

My mind explodes hearing her talk about my dick

"You like my cock jagi?", I ask, leaning up on my arms so I can sit up slightly and watch her better

"Love your cock Yoongi. Fuck, opens my pussy so well", she moans, her circles getting faster, "Love having your cock inside my pussy"

"I love being there", I assure her

Her fluttering around my length is getting faster, she's close

Leaning forward, I press my fingers to her clit, feeling it throb as I rub

"Yes, oh god", she cries, soaking me more

"Cream my cock baby", I murmur, "Make a pretty fucking mess"

"Yoongi!", she yells, tightening so much, her head leaning back, exploding all over me, bliss filling me

Her movements stall as she cums but I keep moving my fingers, rubbing her clit to keep her coming

Her cream leaks around us, the sight fucking mesmerizing

"Oh god Yoongi. Yes Yoongi"

Her body relaxes when she finishes, lifting her head and looking at me in amazement

"Good?", I ask

"Amazing", she breathes

"Good"

Pulling her to me, I crash my lips to hers, kissing her wildly

She throws her arms around my neck, her fingers moving in my hair, pulling as she kisses me back

"Need to fuck you", I murmur between kisses

"Yeah Yoongi. Fuck want your cock so bad"

Oh fuck yeah

Pulling her off me, I maneuver her around, getting her to face the table on her knees

Shoving her down on it, I get behind her, shoving my cock inside her waiting cunt

"Yes fuck", she cries as I bottom out, her hands squeezing the edge of the table hard

Pulling my cock almost all the way out, I shove back inside, hitting her spot

"More Yoongi!"

I move quickly, thrusting into her warm pussy over and over, the feel of dragging in and out of her cunt so intense

"Fuck this pussy is perfect", I murmur in her ear, "Swallows my cock so easily. Throbs so greedily for me"

"Yes Yoongi", she whimpers, taking the pounding I'm giving her

Moving my arm around her, I press against her lower stomach, feeling it bulge everytime I fuck into her, driving me crazy

"This pussy takes my cock so deeply", I murmur, "Wants me all inside"

She nods, breathing hard

"You were made for me", I tell her, lost in the pleasure, lost in her

"Yeah Yoongi. I was", she whimpers

Pulling her back against me, I take her hand, moving it to her stomach, making her feel my cock move inside her

"Feel me fuck you jagi", I murmur, keeping my hand on top of hers, "You feel how deep I am inside you?"

"Yes", she shivers, "Fuck, harder Yoongi"

"Harder baby?", I tease

"Harder. I can take it", she groans, leaning her head against my shoulder

"I can fuck you harder baby but you have to cum for me"

"Yes, I will. I promise"

Touching her legs, I spread them wider, speeding up my movements and force, her dripping cunt leaking everywhere

She moans in my ear as I look down, her pretty neck on display and I get a sudden urge

Sliding my hand up her body, I wrap it around her neck, her pussy squeezing the life from me just as that moment

"Mmm is this what you want?", I tease, "You're pussy got so tight as soon as I grabbed your neck"

She moans wordlessly, her eyes closing

"Want to be choked?"

"Yes", she whispers, making my cock throb in excitement

I've done this before with other girls and I know I'm not going to hurt her

I know it's going to feel good for her and she's gonna cum so intensely

"You've been choked before?", I ask

"Yes"

I'm surprised at that, "By who?"

"Hhhh...Hobi"

Jealousy floods my body at his name

"Hobi?"

She nods

"Did he feel as good as me?", I growl

"No...no", she moans, tears running, pleasure all over her face, "Nnn..nobody fff...feels as good as you"

"Did his cock feel as good as mine?"

"No! Fuck no!", she shouts

"Did he fuck you as good as I am?", I demand, slamming into her with each word

"Nnn....oh god Yoongi!", she cries, pleasure hitting me hard as she cums suddenly

Her hands grip my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she rides out her orgasm on my cock

When she finishes, I continue fucking her spot, growling in her ear, "Who fucks you the best? Don't fucking lie to me"

"You do! Oh god you do"

"Are you lying?"

"Nnn..no! Yoongi no!", she sobs, "You're the best. Fuck you're the best!"

"Damn right"

"Please", she cries, "Wanna cum"

"Again? You already came so much. Such a greedy cunt"

She nods, "Wanna cum on your cock. Want ..want .want...."

"What jagi? What do you want? Tell me"

"Want you to cum deep inside me", she wails, shocking me, "Please Yoongi. Wanna feel your cum in my pussy. Please"

"You'll get it baby", I promise her, "First you have to cum around my cock one more time"

She nods, hiccuping, "Ooo...ok. Choke me please"

I comply, squeezing her neck as I pound into her sweet pussy

Letting go, I let her breath then choke her again

Her cunt tightens, pulsing so hard, making me groan in pleasure, "Yes fuck. Good pussy"

Loosing my hand, she breathes, then I cut her air off again, pushing through her tightness, feeling each throb acutely against my cock

Her body shakes against me, her nails digging into my arm as she cums, feeling her pussy crying cream

When I let go of her neck, my name breaks the silence as she screams

Her orgasm throws me head first into my own, ecstasy washing over me as I shove my cock deep into her and cum inside her

"Joanne! Fuck jagi!", I yell, feeling her cunt milk my cock as unbelievable pleasure overtakes me, stars bursting in my vision

I've never fucking cum this hard before, my body is fucking shaking

We ride the pleasure together, holding her against me

When we finish, she slumps against me, her head leaning back on my shoulder, her forehead against my neck

I breathe in heavily, keeping her against me so she doesn't fall over

Pulling out, I maneuver so my arm is around her back and my other is under her legs so I can pick her up easily

Standing, I carry her to the bathroom

"Jagi, can you sit up for me?", I ask her as I put her on the sink counter

"Hmmm?", she murmurs, her eyes opening

"Sit up for me baby?"

"Oh, ok", she answers sleepily, sitting up

I still hold on to her because she's swaying but I'm able to reach a hand towel and run it under water

"Open you legs for me baby", I ask her

When she does, I move the towel between them, cleaning her up

I wet my hand and run it through her hair to wipe away some sweat

Taking another towel, I wipe her face, her neck and her chest

When I finish cleaning her up, I clean myself up while still holding on to her

I smile when I look at her, her eyes closed as she sways softly

Pulling her back in my arms, I pick her up again and carry her to my room

Putting her in my bed, I move the blanket over her

"Where... Yoongi...where are we?", she asks, her eyes opening tiredly

"In my room jagi. You're gonna stay with me tonight ok?", I tell her

She nods so sleepily, "Are...are you gonna hold me?"

I smile

Most definitely

But I don't want to seem too eager

"Do you want me too?"

She nods, yawning, "So much. Always want to be in your arms"

I'm shocked hearing her and I wonder if she knows what she's saying

Or if she's just babbling because she's exhausted

I don't know for sure but it sounds as if she's thought about me as more than a friend too

I lift her face to mine, her sleepy eyes gazing into mine

Without thinking, I lean down, pressing my lips to hers

Her hands slide slowly up my chest as she kisses me in the softest, sweetest kiss I've ever had

I fall into her kiss, into the feel of her soft lips against mine

It's everything I didn't know I needed, didn't know I wanted

And I want it with just her

When the kiss ends, she snuggles against me, her head slotted under my chin, her face against my chest

I just smile as I wrap one arm around her, keeping her against me

I run my fingers in her hair with my other hand, feeling the soft strands fall through my fingers

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I say, "Night Jo"

"Night Yoongi", she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my chest

I smile widely as I continue to play with her hair

And it's in this moment, holding her in my arms, cuddling with her that I realize I'm utterly in love with her

It wasn't during sex or eating her out or even hearing about her and Hobi that made me realize it

It's now, in the feeling of how she belongs in my arms, in the feeling of wanting this every night, wanting her next to me every night, in the feeling of not knowing a better way of spending my night than with her that I know I'm in love

And I know, I'll do anything to be with her

Absolutely anything

"I love you", I whisper, fully expecting her to be asleep

"I love you too Yoongi", she murmurs, not opening her eyes

Instead she cuddles into me more and within minutes she's asleep, soft snores coming from her

She has no idea how she just rocked my world

No idea

And I can't wake her up to ask her about it

She's exhausted and she needs sleep

I just hope that I can fall asleep soon so I'm not tortured with thoughts of what will happen tomorrow

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

Fingers slowly run in my hair, feeling good as I wake up

I slowly open my eyes, her gorgeous face filling my vision

She's looking at me so lovingly and when she sees I'm awake, she smiles her gorgeous smile

It takes my breath away

She moves closer, kissing me softly

I kiss her back, moving my arms around her, holding her right against me

Her hands move into my hair, her leg going around my waist to get as close to me as possible, the kiss getting heated

Her wet pussy is rubbing against my cock, making me hard

Sliding my hand down her body, I feel her skin tremble against my fingertips

Getting to her ass, I squeeze, pushing her against my dick, my head slipping into her hole

Her hips move down, taking me more inside her and I take that as a cue to move

Pushing my hips forward, I sink into her tight pussy, opening her up on my cock

I slide all the way in, my head against her spot, her body shivering against mine

I pull out then slip back inside her so slowly, feeling every inch of her spreading for me

She moans in my mouth and I swallow it willingly

As I thrust softly into her, I move her on her back, going on top of her

Her hands move to my back, pulling me down, her soft skin flush against mine

Her legs open around my body, letting me thrust into her easier

"Yoongi", she moans between kisses, the sound of my name so pretty in her voice

God, I'm going to want to hear that all the time

I move just a bit faster, still going slow, feeling absolutely everything so acutely

Every clench her pussy does on my length, every gush of juice, every suck pulling me inside her, every inch of her spreading around me

I feel every tremble of her skin, every soft kiss, hear every moan, feel her fingers digging into my back, clinging to me

Her hips move, rolling into mine, meeting my strokes and taking me in deeper

My head hits her spot every thrust, my pelvis rubbing her clit with each move, her pussy getting so tight each time I go in

"Mmm baby", I murmur, both of us moving together, "Feels so good"

She nods, "So good"

I'm in so much pleasure it's insane

I had no idea that slow sex could be so blissful

But of course it's with her

I wouldn't want to feel this way with anyone else

Only her

"Yoongi", she murmurs, so close, her cunt gripping my cock in a vice grip

I am too, the pleasure incredible

Her arms move around my neck, her fingers in my hair, her forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard against each other's lips

I drive my cock into her as she meets me, going in fully

Her body arches as her pussy throbs uncontrollably around my cock, coming all over me as she whimpers my name

"Yoongi! Yoongi!"

Ecstacy tidal waves over me, stars blasting in my vision as I spill my cum inside her

"Joanne! Jagi, fuck"

"Yoongi"

God, it feels so fucking amazing

When we finish, I look down at her, her eyes are already on me

Her fingers bunch the back of my hair, her head lifting, her lips against mine again

I fall into her kiss, wanting her in my arms forever

"Yoongi", she murmurs between kisses, "I love you"

Happiness washes over me as her words sink in

And I realize that she was telling me the truth last night

She really loves me

"I love you Jo", I answer between kisses too, "I love you so much"

She breaks the kiss, looking at me so lovingly

"Do you mean it?", she whispers, "Because I don't think I could take it if it's just something you're saying in the moment. I have been waiting for you for a long time. If you don't mean it then tell me right now"

I had no idea that she's been waiting for me

She's had other boyfriends, I didn't think she saw me that way

She never showed me any indication of her having any feelings for me

I didn't know I had feelings for her until recently

But I love her and I'm not letting her think I don't love her

"I mean it Jo", I tell her, "I started having feelings for you recently. As more than a friend. But it wasn't until last night that I realized I'm completely in love with you"

She hesitates, "Was it because we had sex and then you realized it?"

I shake my head, "No baby. It was when I was holding you last night. When I realized how perfect you fit in my arms, how good it felt to hold you. When I realized that I want you with me every night. That I want nothing more than to spend all my free time, all my nights with you. That's when I realized I'm in love with you"

She smiles softly, "I'm in love with you too Yoongi. For a stupidly long time"

I run my fingers in her hair, "I'm sorry I took so long to see you jagi. But I swear, I will make everything up to you. I promise I'll show you how much I love you everyday"

She smiles nodding, "I promise I'll show you how much I love you too naekkeo"

I smile widely, so utterly happy I have her love

Pressing my lips to hers, we settle back into the bed, arms around each other and just kiss

We're not getting out of bed anytime soon

And I wouldn't have it any other way

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