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starvvie · 2 months

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Continuing 🖤

CLOUD9 AGENCY ☁ JJK X OC

synopsis. faced with decisions that can change the course of her career, the art director of the cloud9 agency decides it is time to act and reignite the flame she had once lost. and all because of an intern… genre. non-idol au ; slice of life au ; intern!jungkook ◦ fluff ◦ angst ◦ smut pairing. JJK x OC rating. M wordcount. 4.8K warnings. foul words, violent thoughts, sad vibes and life not making sense, drinking, arguing, just a lot of different feelings! a/n. a really really late birthday gift to my #1 supporter of this story. happy late birthday lulu, you're the best! 🥺💛🌻 chapters. 3 — 4 — 5

It hadn’t been the first time someone had disappointed Carolina. It had been, however, the first time she had allowed someone to get too close too quickly. And that was a mistake she wouldn’t be committing again anytime soon. After all, you learn from your mistakes. At least you should.

She storms towards the elevator, her anger seething within her.

Carolina doesn’t care to collect any of her belongings that stay laid in her office—and for the sake of everyone in that entire building, it would be best that her little purple troll with neon green hair would be in the box with her stuff the next day. Horace—the troll—had been her companion throughout the most challenging moments of trite; that, and her camera. Cassandra never bothered to replace the agency’s old one that, for the entire time Carolina had been with Cloud9, had been broken and merely acting as yet another item in her glass office to be left to collect dust.

Already inside the elevator, she faces the crowd for the seconds it takes the doors to close—some people had already started whispering, others dispersed once faced with Cassandra, while the one intern that she cared about didn’t move; her eyes are on him and she doesn’t look away until the doors close. As she begins its descent, she’s met with her reflection in the steel doors. She wants to scream and punch someone. Wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t mind punching both Jungkook and Cassandra straight in the face. “Stupid Jungkook,” she mutters under her breath, hands falling to her hips. “Fuck you and your meaningless empty words.”

Her chest keeps rising and falling as she crouches on the floor, practicing her breathing exercises to calm her racing nerves, as the box keeps on dinging, signaling that she is closer and closer to the ground level.

Stepping out of the tall building that had been her workplace for the last couple of years, Carolina stood on the bustling sidewalk, the busy street teeming with people despite the hour. She hated early meetings. In fact, she hated all sorts of meetings. There was no need to have an entire team stop their days so that they could waste 45 minutes of their busy schedules to speak about something that could easily be an email.

Her work day was managed according to her own will. The team that worked closely with the creative director was used to her being offline in the morning and extremely active during night hours. Her brain became electric after midnight and they had all been able to coordinate a pretty balanced work schedule so they could communicate effectively.

With its modern design, the towering building loomed above her. Car horns, the hurried footsteps, and the chatter of pedestrians created a symphony of urban chaos that served as background noise for the audio message she was recording for her best friends, trying her best to veil her frustration and disappointment as she recounted the situation. She knew she didn’t have to lie; in fact, it only worried her that her friends would jump Cassandra in the street or key her car. It wasn’t like her to openly discuss her feelings. Instead, she made some jokes.

“But yeah—” She pauses briefly, phone momentarily touching her lips. “I’ll be seeing you guys at 8 pm. As usual. Peace out!”

She hits the green button, sending her audio through, before immediately typing a quick message so they don’t rush to listen to her recording. 15 entire minutes of her ranting about her day so early in the morning would definitely alarm them.

Her ride finally arrives and she lets out a sigh of relief as she climbs into the backseat. The added feature of no conversation was a blessing as her mind throbbed with frustration. Leaning back against the comfortable leather seats, Carolina closes her eyes and lets the soothing melodies of the music playing on the radio wash over her. As the car began its journey, the towering buildings of the city gradually faded into the background, replaced by the familiar sights of her own neighborhood. The streets became lined with quaint houses and small local businesses.

From time to time, she would open her eyes, checking that the normal-looking guy who was driving her home didn’t have a little bit of Joe Goldberg in him and took a detour to his secret layer where he would try to murder her. She had been devouring true crime podcasts and it had quickly taken over her mind—whichever situation she found herself in could be the perfect crime scene. Sometimes she even found herself looking for ways to leave clues behind so that the investigative team could find her body.

But as her paranoid mind came to ease, she couldn’t help but appreciate the contrast between the hectic city and the peacefulness of her neighborhood. The cool breeze gently brushed against her face as she peered out of the window, and her home was just around the corner. She longed for a cold shower, a chance to wash away the stress and frustrations that had been weighing on her shoulders.

Successfully arriving home without being kidnapped, Carolina takes the stairs up to the third floor. The elevator in her building had been making weird noises and after getting stuck there twice, she decided not to put her luck to the test any longer. The angels were probably worrying about someone else because she was having one hell of a day.

She feels exhausted and defeated. As she closes the door behind her, one of her shoes is already flying as she swiftly takes it off. The other follows suit. Tossing her keys on top of her bag that had also been thrown to the floor, she moved with automatic precision toward the bathroom.

The soothing sound of running water fills the room as Carolina turns the faucet, letting it pour into the bathtub. The cold shower is replaced by a warm bath that would hopefully serve as a place to unwind and let go of the stress that had accumulated throughout her morning. The day had barely started and she was feeling drained.

Stepping into the warm water, she lets out a sigh of relief as it caresses her skin, the tension in her muscles slowly melting away. But the feeling of betrayal kept lingering in her mind, as she could still vividly picture Jungkook’s doe eyes stuck to the floor, the question of why he hadn’t backed her up as he promised haunting her. Closing her eyes, Carolina submerges herself in the water, wanting nothing more than the world surrounding her to fade away.

By the time Carolina left her bathroom, she was surprised to find her living room dimly lit, washed in tones of orange as the sun had already begun to set. She fetched her phone and wasn't surprised by the thousands of messages her friends had sent her, both on their group but also in the private chat. She was expecting them to explode by the news—that, and that they were going to kill her because of the lack of communication.

Her wrinkly fingers wouldn't allow her to leave a fingerprint behind, making it impossible to unlock her phone. Her attention fell on the time displayed on the screen instead and she knew she had to hurry if she didn't want to be yet again late to their dinner date.

Carolina’s encounter with her friends that evening was based on venting frustrations and only after she had some drinks and shared some laughs, they discussed her situation with Cassandra and Jungkook. As she had expected, the two girls immediately began a plan to make the lives of the two people who were tormenting her friend’s mind a living hell.

As the evening drew to a close, Carolina managed to put her friends in their respective cars, calling one for herself while feeling grateful for them. She knew that with the two she would never be alone in her struggles and that they would always be there for her. But as she arrived home, she couldn’t help but check her phone for any missed messages. Despite still being upset with Jungkook, deep down she craved to have something from him—some sort of explanation for his reaction earlier. Scrolling through her social media, the feelings only grew inside her and she decided it was time to call it a day. Setting her phone down, the silence in her room is deafening and it feels like it’s spinning. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget this day ever happened.

As days turned into weeks, Carolina’s rage faded down.

After quitting her job, her days settled into a monotonous rhythm. Her once bustling schedule was now a simple sequence of actions that played out in the confined space of her house. The path she treaded between her bed, the fridge, and the bathroom would soon start to feel worn, like a well-trodden trail that could be found in the woods.

During the initial days of her newfound routine, Carolina found a peculiar comfort in the limited space, as if the world beyond was too vast and too overwhelming to face. Deep down, she had been craving this alone time; this silence—a relief. The constant ringing of her phone, which had once been a constant reminder of work-related stress, was now replaced by a soothing quietness. For the first time in a while, she was able to breathe in the stillness of her surroundings.

However, a sense of emptiness began to creep into her life. Despite the wanted freedom, an undeniable void had emerged. Her phone became a reminder and creator of chaos in her mind. Whenever it chimed, her heart would skip a beat, anticipation rising in her chest. Her thoughts darted between who could be the culprit behind the sensation of the mini heart attack she suffered with each buzz. Most times, it would be her friends. But those weren’t the calls or messages that she craved; her mind darted to the possibility of it being him.

Jungkook crossed her mind endless times per day. The man who, somehow, had vanished from her life. His absence, although appreciated at first, started to gnaw at her, the frustration and anger that had been her initial response giving way to more complex emotions. She started feeling helpless. The more shows she binged, the more she started to realize that her life, in that moment, was stripped of sense.

Carolina’s thoughts seemed to gravitate towards Jungkook with every passing day. She would catch herself wondering where he was, what he was doing, and whether he was thinking about her as much as she thought of him. And every time, she would end up feeling ridiculous by occupying her mind with someone whom she believed she didn’t mean half as much to.

“So,” At the sound of her friend’s voice, Carolina’s gaze left the blurry images that were displayed on her screen to face the girl sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Oh no…” She sighed, fighting the urge to massage her temples. “what is it this time?”

“How’s that portfolio coming along?” Deo eyed Carolina through her eyebrows as she sipped on the noodles that were fuming from the cup in her hand.

“It’s coming.” The short answer was an easy indicator of the lack of interest regarding the topic. “Ya’ know.”

The friend hummed and Carolina pursed her lips together. Her friends had been bugging her for the past week so that she would get some work done. Deep down, she knew that this was their attempt at making her leave the somewhat depressing state she had allowed her body to grow into. She wasn’t like this—the type to back down; cross her arms while the world revolved and she remained still. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with. And so, it was odd to see her so defeated.

That night, however, after saying goodbye to her friend, she didn’t go to bed. She didn’t slouch on her couch either, as usual, Netflix playing on the screen of the TV with the most recent drama until she either finished it, the sun rose or she fell asleep. Instead, she managed to take all the clothes that laid on her desk’s chair and moved them to her bed, allowing her to sit in front of her laptop for the first time in weeks.

The first couple of times she hit the power button, it wouldn’t turn on, completely drained of power. So, Carolina lost a couple more minutes looking for the charger.

It took some minutes for the machine to reboot and for the screen to make her dark eyes glow. Opening the first drawer of her desk, she fetched an old dotted notebook and started to outline a strategy. In her mind, it wasn’t that clear yet, but Carolina had started to define, step by step, how she was going to get control of her life again and make it incredible.

The visual identity of her very own agency wasn’t done that night. The sun rose and she continued glued to her screen. And after a couple of days, she contacted previous clients, explained her new situation, and offered her services. She planned to start her very own agency, offering her creative mind to those in need. A modern-day superhero, if one could say.

The first couple of months were hard—harder than Carolina had anticipated. Regardless, she was in a good place. After a long day, her mind didn’t wander back to Jungkook; she didn’t think of him at all. He had become a wound that healed—a thought that she managed to wipe completely from her mind.

Someone once said that the most beautiful parts of life were in the small things. Carolina’s small thing lately was the group of people who acted as her employees—some freelancers that she hired to help out on her projects. The group worked weirdly in sync together and they had been a constant in her life in the last weeks.

Lu, a photographer with a keen eye for art and amazing drawing skills, had become a close friend. The other girl in the group was Sarah, a writer who would often pitch in Carolina’s social media strategies. The three girls were walking to the bar after hitting the dance floor of a club for the past thirty minutes.

“Are you official, yet?” Sarah nudged Carolina on her side, head tilting to a table where 5 guys were sitting. The latter’s eyes followed and landed on the one who was trying to vent some air through his black shirt. Jae. Carolina laughed. “Exclusive, then?”

“We’re playing a dangerous game already,” Carolina turned her back to the table, viewing the ludicrous wall of liquor. “Giving it a label will only make it more complicated.”

“Those big round eyes—he looks just like a lost puppy,” Lu’s speech is slurred.

“Getting strays off the streets is more your scene. How’s Lucious?” Carolina joked wittedly, remembering that just last week the girl had sent her a photo of a stray cat that she rescued from the streets. It would be kitty number four now and she was certain that the it’s just temporary—until I find someone to take him talk was a big fat lie.

As the conversation develops between the other two girls, Carolina’s eyes fall on the subject of their previous conversation. If anyone had asked her about him, she would most likely say he's nobody—better yet, a work colleague; someone that she hired now and then to help her out on her gigs. But when her friends asked, it had become quite evident that their little rendezvous after work, which usually resulted in her doing a walk of shame back to her apartment the next morning and ignoring his texts for the next couple of days until work brought them together had become more and more common and Carolina was trying her best so that people wouldn’t notice how he messed with her head and heart. Their eyes meet and Jae gives Carolina a giant smile, which she shyly reciprocates before turning around to face the bar yet again.

People-watching was one of Carolina’s favorite hobbies. Her creative mind would go wild, creating stories according to the faces of the people in her sight, sometimes even roaming into the dialogues they were having. Lucky for her, the area is packed.

A woman, not much older than her—or at least she guessed—playfully twirled her hair between her fingers, a radiant smile on her lips as she talked to a guy next to her. He had the puffiest lips Carolina had seen that night and it was evident by his body language that he hadn’t kissed or been kissed enough that night.

Another man sat not so far away and, in contrast to the people next to him, he was gloomy. Head was swinging up and down as his focus was on catching the attention of the barman to ask him for another drink. That one certainly would have a hard time finding a taxi home. And that is of course if he wouldn’t end up sleeping on one of the benches outside of the club.

The barman that the gloom wanted to attract was busy taking the orders of a young man over the loud noise of the music. The man was leaning his whole body on the counter in a kind of boyish manner, trying his best to speak clearly despite his eyes already appearing somewhat foggy. As he finally finishes, the barman gives him an assertive nod and the man smiles. And suddenly it clicks… that smile. It sends Carolina down a spiral and she has to control the pulsating need that rushes through her body.

“Hey, you’re feeling ok?” Lu rapidly asks but gets no response. “Are you going to throw up?”

Carolina focuses on the man’s movements and sees how he licks his lips as his back hits the counter, attention dispersing to something—or someone—in the crowd. His silhouette was unmistakable amidst the sea of gyrating bodies now that she had found him. Her eyes dart from his profile to the back of his head and it’s like she has laser vision and it’s starting to burn a hole in his head as his hand comes to caress the area. It’s at that moment that their eyes meet for brief seconds.

“I’ll be right back,” Carolina speaks through gritted teeth, not noticing the man taking a double look at her.

“Where are you going?” Sarah’s concern is palpable in her voice as she watches Carolina dart through the crowd.

The pulsating bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, creating a rhythmic throb that seemed to synchronize with Carolina’s racing heartbeat. The air had suddenly become dense with laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Carolina’s eyes finally meet the man’s surprised ones again. Determination fueled her steps as she pushed through the tightly packed room, navigating the ocean of people that ebbed and flowed around the bar. Each step felt heavy, like a battle against a roaring sea, the tide pushing her back in the shape of warm bodies that added to the suffocating atmosphere. The scent of perfume, sweat, and spilled drinks mingled in the air; it felt nauseating, the surge of emotions of seeing him after so long threatening to spill over.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps as emotions threatened to consume her, and yet, the determination to confront the man she had managed to extinguish from her mind propelled her forward. Carolina stands before him, hands resting on her hips as her eyes lock into his. The world seemed to quiet for a moment, the surrounding chaos fading into the background as she prepared to unleash the torrent of emotions that had simmered within her.

“Carolina, I—” And as her name rolls out of the man’s tongue, she almost crumbles, getting hit by sudden nostalgia. His shaky eyes scan her entirely and she restrains her body from moving. Jungkook is only steps away from her and where she thought hurt would lay, a sense of antipathy is born.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Yet again, they were face to face. Had she been completely honest, Carolina was terrified. Her life was decent—good, even. She was healthy, and happy, and enjoyed what she was doing. She was proud of her projects. She would even wake up some mornings and go for a jog. But encountering Jungkook at the club and being with him in the intoxicating setting such as his car, with all those memories and all those emotions, made her swing back and forth between maintaining her cool and ignoring the feelings that hadn’t been dealt with and, instead, shoved deep down into her core.

“I am sorry.” He paced slightly from the end of the couch he was sitting on to the window. For a few seconds, he stared outside. And then he noticed she hadn’t even blinked. “I am.”

A long sigh escaped Carolina’s puffy lips. She wondered if he was trying to make her believe his words or if he was trying to realize if he meant them. “So you’ve said.”

“I mean it.” Jungkook sat back down on the couch. He stared intensely deep into her eyes, trying to reach the warmth of her soul, sincerity pouring through his, while she gazed at him back, void of emotion. “I really do.”

“Can’t exactly say your word means much.” She reclined back into the armchair. While Jungkook was sitting on her couch, she had decided to take aid in the singleness of her armchair, far enough that he couldn’t reach her. “You say a lot of stuff, but it doesn’t seem to have much meaning.”

Carolina knew that her harsh words and unfiltered sincerity were one of the things that bothered Jungkook. It was probably one of the things that always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells around her. He was the complete opposite. Politically correct, even. His expressions could fail him—although rarely—but he would always say the nice thing, or not say anything at all. Carolina would be truthful if regarding something she was passionate about, even if it meant saying something the other person wouldn’t enjoy.

“I know what I did to you—the way I acted,” Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, almost as if trying to collect his words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, Carolina would throw him out of the window. She had already pictured that scenario only minutes after he had entered her apartment. “it was wrong, and you deserved better.”

“And yet…” She gesticulates with her hands, emphasizing their position. “here we are.”

He just wasn’t saying the right thing. And if Carolina could be honest, she wasn’t sure there was a right thing to say. Maybe there was nothing that he could say to make up for the heartache she felt. For the humiliation. And seeing him hide his face between his hands as his head hung heavy between his legs, just made her want him gone. And almost as if reading her mind, Jungkook asked “What do you want me to say? I am really really sorry and I haven’t stopped thinking about it and you ever since.”

And that last sentence was like a punch to the gut. “Ya’ know what? I forgive you!” Almost as if Carolina had been suddenly hit with a wave of good spirits, she gets up from her armchair, her tone chipper. “You are forgiven for being an absolute asshole and a liar. I am completely over the fact that you betrayed my confidence.” Her hands fell to her hips and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, please, leave. We don’t have anything else to discuss.”

Grabbing him by the arm, Carolina almost hauls Jungkook from his seat. “Wait,” his manifests are in vain though, because only when he enforces his stance she stops. “I think I loved you,” Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the floor. “and that freaked me out.”

“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Arms in the air, Carolina turns to face her wall. She takes a deep breath. “You loved me so you played me and then never spoke to me again. Can’t imagine what kind of father you’d be!”

He ignores her comeback, “I wanted to be with you every second of my day. I wanted to stay until late in the cloud room with you just noticing how the colors made you look more and more beautiful. You were messing with my mind and I was allowing myself to fall for you, even though it wasn’t appropriate.”

Carolina’s hand doesn’t move from the front door’s handle and she has to strain the laugh that threatens to leave her lips. Jungkook’s stance is incredulous as he doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he professes what seems to be his undying love for the girl.

“You’re different and you’re weird and you have a funky taste and it scares the living shit out of me. You made me feel. When you smiled at me. When you trusted me with assignments…” Completely ignoring the girl’s wishes for his departure, Jungkook sits back on the couch again, this time on the armrest, his body facing her. “And then I get to the office, late as fuck, already freaking out, and see that scene. I was shocked. And when I finally came to my senses, I felt too embarrassed to reach out to you.” He speaks fast and his lisp is noticeable. Carolina sees how truthful his words are, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth as he faces the empty wall. “I was ashamed that I let you go like that, let you go through that situation with everyone looking at you and I didn’t stand my ground immediately like I should have.”

Jungkook stands up and Carolina’s grip on the handle falls. “So, you have every right to hate me. You can even punch me if you’d like if that would make you less hurt…” he walks closer to her, stopping only a couple of inches away, somewhat afraid that she would take on the offer. He gives her a small smile. “although I would prefer you wouldn’t. You look like you have a mean hook.”

She finally lets out a dry laugh, focusing everywhere but on the man in front of her. She’s trying to remain defensive, fighting the urge from her body to give in to his speech, to believe that he’s saying the truth, that maybe—maybe—this time, things can take a different turn. “So… past tense, huh?”

He ignores her sarcasm completely, as if switching roles and him being the serious one. Jungkook wants to take her hand that hangs mindlessly in the air but restrains himself from doing so. He fights the urge to run his hands through her fluffy hair like he had done so the previous night in his car. His brain can still recall how soft it felt on his fingers and how it smelled of lavender. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know it’s my fault and I just want you to know that I feel like garbage for hurting someone who meant—means—so much to me.”

Carolina purses her lips together, focusing on the dirt that stained the white of his Converse.

“Can we start over? Friends?” Her eyes land on his extended hand and travel all the way up to his face. He’s hopeful and she can’t wait to touch his skin again, so she shakes it. He smiles radiantly as if a little kid who just won the biggest fluffiest teddy bear at a fair. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Jungkook wants to sound certain but Carolina senses the shakiness in his voice.

“Just don’t spam me.” Carolina rolls her eyes while they finally let go of each other’s hands. Jungkook gives her one last look, providing her with a silent chance to change her mind and as she doesn’t, he nods, pleased, before leaving.

Carolina’s hands fly to her head, fingers massaging her temples as she is dazed by the event she has just lived. She closes her door, back hitting it for support and her focus relies on outside her window, how the sun had already set and the night had taken over instead, the sky painted dark navy blue while some stars shone in the distance.

There’s a knock on her door and she rushes back to open it, reason completely out of her mind, “Jun—” She stops mid-word. “Jae! I was not expecting you.”

“In my defense, I did text you. Not my fault you don’t look at the thing.” As he makes his way inside, chuckling, he gives her a small peck on the cheek. “Brought food.”

“Great!” Before closing the door, Carolina glanced at the empty corridor, trying to shake the weird feeling that left her stomach turning. It doesn’t go away, not even after she ate the ramen Jae brought. And so she takes this sudden unwell state to send him off. The drawers inside her mind were all messy; she had some organizing to do.

[ chapter 5 ]

☁ want to be tagged in the next part? comment below or send me an ask!

#jeon jungkook

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starvvie · 10 months

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Feral for this type of JK 🖤

are you afraid to fall in love? » i'm afraid of being the only one who falls.

[ they are sent undercover as newlyweds to catch a terrorist, the only problem is that she hates him and he loves to annoy her ❤️‍🩹 read it here ]

» taglist !

@magicshopew @narimiese @socksjinie @callmeharin @yundota @investigativelewis @httpextaevaganza @dulcetdevil3 @itshanic @teresaisla @allfortete @niniklip @ggukkieland @iamunrecognized @diminieshoe @bluenpjm @taespocket @sofiameetsevil @rcseluv @tangyguk @agustlee @bibliotae @joonipie @itsceesaw @september-husband @dropsofjoonpiter @telejoonie @hobilyss @starvvie

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starvvie · 10 months

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🤍.

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starvvie · 10 months

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cute when you're mad | jeon jungkook.

pair: jealousbf!jungkook × f!reader

warnings: drabble short n simple, smut, mentions of sex and fingering in public, dirty talk, reader gets slapped, voyeur (?)

☆ note: my second drabble! again, english is not my first language in case of writing mistakes. pics edited by me. :)

jungkook is pissed.

after a very long time, he finally asks his sweet girl to a date. he chose his best clothes, the perfume you always say that smells good while sniffing his neck aggressively, bought you flowers..

he did everything!

and now there's a random man flirting with you while singing some romantic shit in the middle of the restaurant, on top of a small stage.

jeon didn't like the way he was staring at you, smiling, eating his girl only with eyes. liking even less of how you were giving all of your attention to that bastard.

things get worse when that guy picked up the microphone, saying loud and clear:

"this song i'll sing right now, i'd like to dedicate to that beautiful girl right there!" and pointed at you.

then the instrumental of 'careless whisper' started.

hah.

jungkook let the tongue touch the inside skin of his cheek, arms crossed right in front of chest while watching you getting all flustered, smiling shyly.

how adorable.

he's definitely doing something about that.

"babe?" you called confused about the feeling of your chair being pulled, and suddenly you're sitting by him.

"stay quiet."

jungkook's hands, decorated with rings, went up under your delicate dress, squeezing your thigh right before touching that place, making small shapes there.

"people will see!"

"so let them see."

when he knew your pussy was wet enough, two of the longest fingers was already inside, getting out and in quickly.

"koo.." you let a moan scape, covering your mouth with one hand after that.

looking at jeon with certain difficulty, he watched with a smirk that guy singing, his eyes open wide. probably noticed what was happening between you two.

and now, all makes sense.

your boyfriend was jealous.

that makes you want to tease him, but let him show you are his for everyone at the same time.

"you look so cute when you're mad, know that?"

"yeah, let's see if i'll still cute when i fuck you in that bathroom until you scream, perrita."

and jungkook really did that.

he fucked you silly in there, his fat dick eating you from behind, forcing your head back only for you to see your own face, that was a completely mess, full of sweat and tears. your butt? all red from his strong slaps.

jeon growled in your ear things like:

"you're all mine."

"that pretty hole of yours is mine to eat. only mine."

"see that messy face? mine."

"am i cute now, love?"

and he was happy now with the thought of everyone, especially that motherfucker, hearing your moans, hearing you scream his name; nobody else's.

maybe this plot is too cliche..?

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starvvie · 10 months

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This is turning out so good 🖤

"throw it at that guy's head for me, would you?"

» click to complete action «

( inp and art creation by: @singguks ! ) ✦ series' masterlist

-ˋˏ TAGLIST ˎˊ-

@ivronnie @bluenpjm @singguks @dropsofjoonpiter @itshanic @socksjinie @hobilyss @kookisoorecs @lisamours @starvvie @shycreationdreamland @pjmslip

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starvvie · 10 months

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— JISOO ★.ᐟ

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starvvie · 10 months

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Reading 🖤

Marée basse

Happy New Year guys and thank you so much for liking and reblogging my work. ♡ Creating this blog was the best decision I made this year.

→ Part of Rated R series (masterlist not yet available).

Pairing: Model!Taehyung x Stylist/Fem!Reader

Genre: New York in the 90s AU, strangers to lovers, smut

Summary: Taehyung tells himself every time he sees you how much he doesn't like you. He hates how you're so caring, kind and pretty much the opposite of his ex who he's still obsessed over. One day, he dares to taste you and that's when he realizes his hatred for you is transforming into love.

Word count: 9.5k

Warnings: tae is kinda mean at first, French tae again, dom tae/sub reader, unprotected sex, oral (f), face sitting, masturbation (m), breeding kink because why not.

A.N.: It's long but maybe not enough? The story goes fast, but it's only to make it easy for me because I don't want to make a series out of Taehyung's storyline and I don't have the strength to write 15k+ words lol.

Playing: Elle ne t'aime pas

"You do know that it'll kill you someday, right?" Taehyung spits the smoke out of his mouth, the cigarette inked between his index and middle finger.

He reads today's news with his delicious cup of coffee that sits on the table in front of him. He takes sips from time to time when he feels the tiny bit of energy he has leaving his body. He hopes his sunglasses hide his dark circles properly as people pass by them on the sidewalk, adjusting the pair on his nose when it slides a little bit down.

If only his agency didn't obligate him to pose for 6 hours straight, perhaps he wouldn't have to wear sunglasses outside during cloudy weather. He wouldn't have to party until the time indicates 4 a.m. or smoke a pack of cigs a day to release his stress.

Taehyung sighs, his head raises to look at his friend, himself reading the newspaper. "If love doesn't do it before." His words spill with melancholy and sore souvenirs are quick at coming back into his mind.

He sees her again, screaming insults at him, her face twisted by anger. Or at least that's what he thought she was feeling like. She's at his entry, telling him how much she despises him, but the second after she's hanging on his lips. His mind goes blank, fortunately, before he can imagine further things. Oh, combien je te méprise.

"Mh, what a poet." The other man hums, crossing his legs. He leans his elbow on the coffee table while he winks at a group of two women, giggling as they continue their path. "Why do you still think about her when there are plenty of beauties everywhere?" He plays with his pencil between his two fingers, his gaze following the girls behind. When they are out of sight, he turns around to write letters down on the newspaper's crossword.

"New York girls don't pick my interest." Taehyung responds simply, carrying his cigarette to his pink lips. He looks down at the article on page three, the title big and bright, begging to be read.

"They will when you'll no longer miss Paris." He rolls his eyes at his friend's statement.

His childhood city is not the problem, neither are the girls. No, if he misses something, it is the delicate touch of a woman he loves. Not his ex, even though he thinks about her more than he would like to, but someone who'd make his heart beat again.

Beats like the time where he played soccer with his primary school's team. Sometimes, he can still feel the wind flowing through his brown locks. Running with the ball at his feet, approaching the goal. He liked soccer, he liked winning games. He liked making his dad proud.

He doesn't know what he would think of him now, if being a rich model in New York is something up to his standards. It probably is, considering the fact that Taehyung left the poverty he was born in. The only thing his parents had ever wished for him is to do better than them and he did. If it isn't for his handsome features, he doesn't know who he would have become.

"I'm not like you, Jimin." The said man laughs wholeheartedly, Taehyung could really be delusional sometimes. He can agree that he is much more salacious than his dear friend, but let's not forget who accompanies him at parties hosted by rich young people.

"And who's me?" Jimin questions him, cocking one eyebrow. He smiles playfully, he already knows how Taehyung is going to describe him.

"A city boy." He says, his eyes not looking up from the journal. "A womanizer." He adds, an arrogant smirk on his lips.

The man in front of him chuckles. "Come on, aren't you one as well?"

Once a time, he would have agreed. Back in France, when he was nothing else than a cute face, he didn't care about his reputation he had with women. 'Le coureur de jupons', he was called.

The skin of a girl against his own was what he was living for, why he woke up in the morning with the intention of going clubbing at night. Their personality was no importance, a good fuck history of feeling something. A glimpse of intimacy he never had because nobody really bothered to befriend the poor boy.

At least he could brag about hooking up with every woman he desired. A chance that none of his friends had.

It's only after he was engaged in his first modelling agency that he stopped. It was also the time where he met his ex-girlfriend.

"I'm not." He takes a gulp from his coffee, licking the excess from his lips with his tongue. He finally looks up at Jimin when he puts back his cup on the table. "But guess who is. Apart from you." He lifts his journal from the wooden surface, pointing at the title of page three.

"The local rockstar caught in the arms of a fan." He reads the title out loud, scoffing when he realizes what it implies. "Don't tell me it's-"

"Jeon Jungkook. Yup." The man confirms, letting the newspaper fall on the table. He grins at the thought of his friend being scowled for sleeping with a groupie once again.

"He's not like me. I'm a heartthrob and he's just an horny teenager." Jimin defends himself, shifting his hand in the air.

"He's twenty-five." Taehyung rectifies, raising his eyebrows at him.

"Same thing." The two men sneer, mocking the famous boy who's always in some type of scandal. Jungkook is not the one to follow the rules of society and surely not the one who'd say no to sex, no matter if it's one of his fans or not.

Jimin gets a look at his watch, his eyebrows raising up when he realizes that he's late. "Fuck. Gotta go, but see you around, yeah?" He slips his wallet in the inner pocket of his leather jacket and leaves a ten dollar bill on the table. He secures the paper by putting his empty cup of coffee on it so it won't fly away. "Call me or something."

Taehyung nods as his friend waves him goodbye. He disappears in the crowd of New Yorkers, avoiding the bodies that are walking in his way. The man sighs, lifting his glasses up to his head to rub his eyes as he yawns deeply.

He got a new contract, one with Guess. His manager concluded that it was a good deal and Taehyung doesn't really mind for who he's posing for. Honestly, he has very little to say, but with his popularity, pretty much every brand wants his model skills.

The photoshoot is at one p.m. so he needs to come back home before he runs late.

She never loved him and it's like Taehyung had no clue of it. It was always love and hate between them, but he thought it was normal. He also thought that she was dressing for him when in reality his name didn't even cross her mind.

Sooner or later, he did. He understood that her kisses weren't for him. Her lipstick wasn't chosen for him. Her eyes didn't reflect his person. Her laughs weren't meant for him.

He had to let her go, and he eventually did, but for a long time he thought she was the last person he had in his life. She haunted his dreams because he thought she was the only possible key to his heart. She wasn't.

His heart isn't a locked door nor a broken vessel. It's pumping fast in his chest, screaming to him that his ex isn't the solution but rather the problem. He wishes she's still thinking about him in her apartment, falling asleep with his face engraved in her mind. She's not and he knows it, but his lonely soul would do anything for his wish to become true.

"Shit! I'm so sorry! Oh, God..." His eyes fall on the feminine figure kneeling in front of him, wiping a liquid off the floor. "I'm so clumsy, I can't believe it." Taehyung blinks several times, wondering what just happened. He looks over his chest and he notices a big stain of coffee. Why bother for the floor when his shirt is dripping in coffee?

He frowns, observing you standing up with paper towels in your hand. You look at the mess you made by dropping your coffee on him and your face is filled with shame. You bring the towels to his chest, trying to fix the damage you have done on Taehyung, but nothing works except getting worse.

"I can't believe it either." He says, exasperated. He steals the paper towels from your hand and decides to wipe the excess of coffee himself. If you're silly enough to spill your drink on him, he better clean it himself. "Who hired you? Bet you're a trainee." He scoffs, the incompetence certain people have will always amaze him.

"I'm sorry, really. I wasn't looking where I was going." You apologize again and you seem genuinely sorry. It was probably nothing but an accident, but Taehyung is very exhausted. He can't deal with trainees who only have 'bringing coffees' as their daily task.

"Yeah, learn to fucking walk." As he spits his anger on you he lifts his gaze on your form and he feels a tiny bit of guilt poking at his heart. Truthfully, he wasn't looking either. He was lost in his thoughts again, walking to his dressing-room by memory.

You open your mouth to say something, to defend yourself because he has no right to talk to you like that. But you close it. 'If you have nothing kind to say, don't say anything.'

He gives you back the soiled paper towels, pushing them on your chest so you can feel the wetness of them. Just to be mean, just a little revenge. He doesn't need revenge, quite frankly. You are trying your best, it's obvious, but Taehyung is so tired. It's the last thing he needed today.

Slumped on the couch in his dressing-room, he browses through an Elle magazine. His mom has always loved this magazine, she had one in her hands every week. He admired all the women that were featured on the first page, finding their poses and their model face so interesting. He loved the way they were dressed, how their makeup embraced their unique features.

They were beautiful, like his mother. He wanted his mother to be a model, to show to the world how pretty she was. On the other hand, she didn't want to. She was too shy, but when her son became a model instead, she was delighted. It was still a win because Taehyung was cherishing a part of her beauty.

"Tae, come on." His manager instructs him to follow with a wave. "It's your turn."

"Coming." He throws the magazine on the low table in front of him as he gets up on his feet.

"What happened to your shirt?" The man points the big brown stain of coffee on his chest.

Taehyung sighs, rolling his eyes as he shoves his hands in his pockets. "An employee dumped her coffee on me. I have nothing else with me, so I guess I'm going out like that." His manager only hums, walking where the photoshoot takes place.

He sees you again, fumbling through clothes and giving people directives. Why would you tell them what to do when you're just a trainee?

Makeup artists and hairstylists all rush to Taehyung, touching up his contour and his bangs. A woman applies some powder on the entirety of his face while he closes his eyes and scrunches up his nose due to the brush getting in sensitive areas of his face.

"Ok!" A man yells and suddenly everyone backs away from him. When he opens his eyes again, you're right there, clothes in hands. You're standing next to the photographer, which Taehyung supposes was the person that just yelled. "I want the jeans to be done. We have a shit ton of them. That's good for you, Yn?" You open your mouth to respond, but you're cut off right away. "We don't have a choice anyway. Come on, let's go!"

The photographer literally doesn't give a shit. Taehyung already feels the monstrous hours he'll spend trying fucking jeans and shirts. He would complain to his manager, but he knows it's not worth it.

"You- You can get rid of your clothes." His eyes shift down to you, your own avoiding him. He then realizes; you're not a trainee, you're the stylist. Of course you are. "And put those on." You hand him a stack of clothing. "I mean, just those jeans. For now." You point him a pair of pants. "With the shirt, obviously..."

Are you naturally that silly or has he this effect on you? It wouldn't be the first time a woman crumbles down over his looks.

Taehyung inspects the room, but there's no place for him to change. He has to do it in front of every eye because no one cares about his intimacy. It's not the first time he has to, usually it's like that for fashion shows since the time is running out fast. It's like nobody minds because anyway, he's showing his body to the world, why would it matter to have privacy?

As he is unbuttoning his shirt, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and he sees you again, smiling because it would be rude not to. "I can ask for a screen. We have them in the back, they always seem to forget about it..."

Why are you being kind? He cursed on you not even an hour ago. You have other things do to than to care about him and he doesn't want your sympathy or whatever this is.

"Taehyung! What's taking you so long? Come on!" The photographer yells again, adjusting his camera, not even glancing his way.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize in a small voice, stepping away like a little mouse running back to its hole in the wall.

After three hours, the photoshoot is finally over. He has already another one booked with Guess, and fuck, he wanted to refuse so bad. He wants to lay in bed and do absolutely nothing, but is it his job to decide what to do? Not really.

He dresses himself back up, wincing when he takes the soiled shirt in his hands. Most of the employees have left while the photographer is reviewing the pictures carefully, spotting any unfavourable details. His manager is talking with someone, probably discussing the next appointment.

And you, you are tidying the precious clothes back on the rack and neatly folding them. You do it with an impressive precision and he can't believe that someone so perfectionist can knock him over, spilling a cup of coffee on him. But at the same time, working for such an important brand seems new to you, it stresses you out. You're scared to be told you're not doing good, not doing a perfect job.

But he doesn't know you and he doesn't want to. Taehyung shouldn't be wondering about your life. You don't pick his interest at all.

In his dressing-room, he hears small knocks on his door. It can't be his manager nor the photographer since they both left not long ago. Could it be you? You were the last one here, still occupied with folding pairs of jeans. No, why would it be you? Heck, why is he even thinking it could be you?

He opens his door, without a shirt on because he's not wearing the one that you have stained. Oh, it's you. "Hey, sorry to bother you..." You laugh awkwardly and he would say that you are uncomfortable around him, but for some reason you keep bugging him. "There." You show him a white dress shirt on a hanger. "Since I... Well, since I accidentally ruined yours."

He takes it from your hand, looking at it by turning the hanger around. There's a tag on, the logo of the famous brand written on it. Size medium.

You stand there, surely because you expect him to say thank you, but you quickly realize that he won't. "Again, I'm really sorry-"

Taehyung lifts a hand in the air, indicating you to stop. You do, closing your mouth with a confused expression on your face. Right now, you think that he is an asshole, that no matter how kind and respectful you are, this man doesn't want to hear from you.

"You keep apologizing. Stop."

"Sorry-"

"Stop." He repeats, this time sounding annoyed. You gulp and nod, finally leaving.

"Do you know how fucking crazy this is?" Jungkook exclaims, his boots squeaking on the marble floor of the expensive store. "Like, DGC, man. They only sign with legends." He is sporting the biggest smile ever. Taehyung finds that he looks like a kid, nothing comparable to the rockstar that he is.

"Mhm." Taehyung mindlessly checks through the Ralph Lauren polos and shirts.

His friend sits in a chair, his ankle placed on his knee as he wiggles his foot. If he wasn't JK, he would have been thrown out of the store really quickly. His tattoos and his piercings often send the message that this man isn't distinguished, but since he has money, they let him in.

"Dude, are you even listening? I swear, we should leave this place. I don't like how they are staring at me." Jungkook is referring to the employees, not minding their business as they keep their eyes on the famous man.

"They stare because you're a celebrity, Jungkook. Or because you're loud and drag your dirty boots everywhere." Taehyung smirks as he looks behind his shoulder to see his friend's offended face.

He pouts and repositions himself in the chair. "Don't talk about my Docs like that."

Taehyung laughs at him, shaking his head from left to right. He finally picks a long-sleeve polo off the rack, inspecting it from every angle. It looks like the one he bought for his father not a long time ago for his birthday. He had taken a break, flying off to France.

The house he had grown up in hadn't changed a bit. His room was in the same state he had left it in, his toys hidden in a box under his bed and his posters of AC/DC and Queen still plastered on his wall. When he was a teenager he was really into rock, it was starting to get popular after all. The younger him wouldn't have believed he'd become a fan of jazz.

When he gifted the polo to his father, he had looked at him in a strange way, an emotion he couldn't decipher passing through his eyes. He had taken off the price tag so he couldn't know the price, but his father wasn't stupid. Ralph Lauren is expensive and his parents refuse categorically to buy out of price clothings.

So that's the one he'll buy today. "I found what I was looking for." He says while walking to the cashier with Jungkook following behind.

But something - rather someone - cuts him in his tracks. "Taehyung, hi!" He snaps his head in the direction of the feminine voice, his sharp eyes finding yours instantly.

You're wearing a floral jumpsuit with heels. An odd choice considering your small height, but it suits you well. It makes you unique. He bets if you were in a crowd full of people, you'd be the first he noticed.

You avoided him the last time he went posing for Guess. You gave him the outfits without saying a word and went on with your work. You didn't bother caring for his privacy nor did you say the word 'sorry'. He would never admit it to anyone, but he watched you from far away anytime he had the chance to. Your superiors didn't seem to have any respect for you, never acknowledging your opinions. Taehyung felt sorry for you. He knows what it's like to be belittled.

Now, why are you giving him your attention, though?

"Hi... Yn." He greets you with little - indeed no enthusiasm. However, Jungkook seems very enchanted to see you, eyeing you up and down as if you were a piece of art hanging on a wall. Taehyung sees the interest that his friend has for you, and for unknown reasons, he doesn't like it.

"What a surprise to see you here! I mean, I- I didn't think I would run into you here..." Your nervousness around him would endear him if he didn't know you as the silly girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He knows for a fact that you would have apologized again for the incident if he hadn't told you to stop doing it before.

"Yn... What a beautiful name you have." Jungkook outputs his seducing skills and Taehyung hopes you don't know him or you're not one of his fangirls. Your eyes shift on his friend and he has the impression that they didn't want to leave him. "Never heard it before."

He flashes you a smile. You can't help but giggle at that and Taehyung hates this sound. "Really? Thank you." You answer shyly and he rolls his eyes. You're too smart to fall for that, he tells himself.

"Do you know who I am?" You raise your eyebrows at Jungkook's question and Taehyung holds back a laugh.

"Well, you're JK, right?"

"Exactly." He smirks and Taehyung can't believe it when he sees him winking at you. His friend has no shame.

You laugh, but it sounds forced a little. Is it possible that you are actually not falling for Jungkook and his miserable way of flirting? Your gaze is quick to remain to Taehyung and it feels right, somehow. It feels like your eyes are meant to look at him and no one else, but it's non-sense. He doesn't want you to look at him. Does he?

"I was wondering... Is your contract finished or...?" You ask hesitantly, not finishing your question so it seems more innocent, like it's simple curiosity.

"No, actually it ends whenever they decide to." He doesn't seem to understand the implications or he just doesn't mind them. Taehyung is not the type to complain, but it's beginning to look bad. His ex would have told him he's dumb for not reacting at how he gets treated, at how he's not even considered like a human being at this point.

But you, you just frown, showing your emotions instead of telling them. You don't know him enough to say anything anyway, but the way your expression tells him everything, is just astonishing.

"I have to pay. Goodbye." Jungkook scoffs at Taehyung's coldness toward you, looking at him like he's crazy to leave you behind when you offer him your kindness.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" His friend shouts at him as he puts his article down on the counter and takes out his wallet. "She was begging you, Tae. You're blind or what?" He doesn't respond and watches the cashier pack his polo in a paper bag with the brand name on it. Suddenly, Jungkook snaps his fingers, making Taehyung turn his head in his direction. "She's the stylist, isn't she?"

"You're fucking annoying."

"She is!" He groans at that, wishing he didn't tell his friends about the coffee incident. It's not even that important, why did he tell them? Jungkook is walking excitedly beside his friend, enjoying how much Taehyung hates this moment, but he has to talk about it, unless the man wants to pass out on his soulmate. "Invite her out."

Outside of the store, the usual sounds of cars and honks are heard. The pavement is so large it can fill a lot of people, the absolute contrary of Paris. The two cities have a lot of similarities, like being the most popular and populated cities of their respective countries, but they are also very different on a lot of aspects.

They are both dirty and filled with rats, but Parisians are less stupid than New Yorkers. Though, New Yorkers are less pretentious and rude than Parisians. Everyone has their flaws.

"No. Why would I?"

Jungkook chuckles as if the answer is obvious. Right, maybe it is, but he doesn't want to know it. "She has a crush on you and how long have you been single, remind me?" He counts on his fingers and Taehyung laughs at the absurdness. "Two years and six months! When was the last time you got your dick sucked?"

"Jesus. Jungkook, you're-"

"Don't tell me it was at my party! You didn't fuck since three weeks?" In reality, he didn't even pull any women at Jungkook's party. He wasn't in the mood for a hookup and it wasn't worth his time, but his friend doesn't have to know. He'll annoy him even more if he tells him the truth.

"I don't have groupies that are waiting for me to sleep with them and even if I had, I wouldn't touch them with a fucking stick." Jungkook shoves him away and they both laugh together.

"Come on, my fans are the most freaky. You wouldn't believe half of the stuff they want me to do to them."

"I would, actually."

It wouldn't be such a bad idea when he thinks about it. He talked about it with Jimin after he hung out with Jungkook and he believes the same. You seem interested, and Taehyung hates to say it, but you're pretty too. Not his style, but pretty.

He looked at you today, though. You made eye contact more than once and he could tell it made you flustered. He enjoyed that, how he can turn you into a stuttering mess with one simple look.

He knows you're still there, as always. You stay late, after everyone. You want to finish your work or whatever you're really doing at the back. He just has to ask you to come inside and there's a big chance you'd accept.

He hears footsteps passing by outside and that's the sign he needed to finally get up. He opens the door, "Hey." You turn around, startled. You didn't expect him to still be here and talk to you. "Can you come in?"

Your legs move hesitantly toward him in your pair of flare jeans. They hug your thighs deliciously, and you might think your tummy is less visible in them, but it's not. And Taehyung finds it attractive.

When you're standing next to him, your lips part from each other, your upper teeth showing. "Is everything alright?" You ask and he hates how you care about him as if you were both friends.

You haven't spoken to him since you ran into him at the store and you approach him like he didn't turn you off twice. You should stop being kind, you should not let people walk over you. Who is he anyway to give advices when he doesn't bother to stand up for himself?

He tilts his chin to the interior of his room, walking in silently as you follow him without asking any more questions. He closes the door behind him and gets closer to you, locking his eyes with yours. There's a part of him that hopes you'll run away from him or slap his face for the words that'll leave his mouth soon. Another part wishes you'll make him forget about his ex-girlfriend.

He takes small steps closer to you until your back hits the wall beside the door. Your eyes look up at him in awe while his reflects nothing expect for your small figure trapped under him. "Are you into me?"

Your eyes widen open. "What? Uh- No... no."

"Don't lie to me." He towers over you and he hates how small you are compared to him.

"Who... isn't?" You breathe out shakily, arms secured to your sides. "Why are you asking me that? I thought... you didn't like me."

He thought so too. Taehyung is selective, he doesn't want to waste time by building a relationship he knows isn't worth it. But that's the thing, he can't know if you deserve his time or not if he pushed you away. He wants to give the impression that you annoy him because that's the only way he can persuade himself that his heart isn't free.

If his love doesn't belong to her, it belongs to nobody else, but he's wrong on that and you need to make him realize it somehow.

"It's not like that." He exhales, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again. "Be honest with me." Say the truth to him so he knows real love exists, so he understands that holding back can't always benefit him.

It's weird how he hates this conversation and can't seem to end it at the same time. Maybe he doesn't know what hate means. Your shampoo is invading his nostrils, a soft odour of green apple tickling his senses. You smell good, yet he tells himself that it's an intolerable smell.

"Yeah, but it's nothing." You shrug and chuckle, but Taehyung doesn't find it funny. You look down at your feet and your hair follows your movements, gracing the sides of your face.

His hands move up on each side of your head on the wall and he slowly leans down. He glimpses at your lips and wonders what they taste like. Can he know without getting attached?

You look at his lips too, but you don't chase them, you let them come to you. You whimper when Taehyung crashes his mouth on you, taking your breath away.

He places his hands on your hips, bringing you with him. He breaks the kiss as he sits on the couch while you stay up between his legs. He palms your thighs with his big hands and his slender fingers squish your flesh through your jeans. "Tae-Taehyung..." You call him with an unsteady voice, gulping as his face is really close to your crotch. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He reuses your word, his palms coming up to touch your butt. His gaze lifts up and he looks unfazed like he wants to make you believe that it's really nothing. The reality is that he's scared this will mean more than nothing to you or to him.

Love is scary, but that's the feeling he craves the most. If he could, he would go back to his ex and beg her on his knees. He can't so he's ripping it out of you like your heart has always been his property, like your love is due to him. But he shouldn't do it if he doesn't intend to give it back to you.

He unbuttons your jeans and works on your zipper to pull it down. "Wait! I'm not- I didn't..." His dark pupils raise up again, observing your bottom lip being bitten by your teeth. "Shave." You say quietly like you're ashamed of it, as if he'll push you away in disgust.

Taehyung isn't the one that'll tell you you're beautiful and that society's beauty standards are non-sense, cruel towards women. He's not here to help you achieve the level of self-love that you deserve. It's not his job, but he will surely not let that insecurity get in the way of having sex.

"Does it matter?" He tugs on your pants, lowering them to your mid-thighs. If he wasn't good at hiding his emotions, you would see lust dancing in his eyes and hear groans leaving his throat. Your pink cotton panties with a bow in the middle is the sweetest thing he has ever seen. You weren't expecting to have any sexual intercourse and it turns him on so much. "Because it doesn't to me."

He brings his middle finger to your core, your panties are drenched, a slightly darker shade of pink crowning the area around your hole. He swipes his finger along your pussy and he can feel your lips spilling out of it. You grip his shoulders when he brushes over your clitoris, pressing slow circular motions on the little bud of nerves with his digit.

He elicits sweet moans out of you, his free hand holding on your thigh harder, his nails sinking in your meaty flesh. He leaves sloppy kisses on your stomach, just over the band of your panties. Your skin is as sweet as your sounds and soft to the touch.

You whine as his annular joins his middle finger on your clit, gently flickering it and bringing you closer to your orgasm. "Remove them, please, please..." You form fists into his shirt, gasping when he presses harder on your sensitive bud.

He continues his movements while he looks up at your face, mouth half-open and eyebrows furrowed. "What? Want me to remove your panties?" His tone of voice could resemble to him teasing you, but he knows that his question is exactly what you want.

"Yes." You nod rapidly and he smiles.

He tugs your underwear down, your core sticking to it as he settles them over your jeans. His eyes then focus on your hairy cunt, moving his palms on the meat below your ass, squeezing it softly. "What a pretty pussy." He purrs at you and his hot breath tickles your skin.

He pulls you closer and he can smell you, smell your arousal. The odour of sex is really strong, but he likes it, unlike your shampoo. He supposes you're dripping wet, and just to prove his thoughts, he slides a finger through your folds, collecting an enormous amount of arousal.

He rubs his wet digit on your clit again and you buck your hips into his face, demanding more. He accepts, giving your bud a lick with his tongue. You moan out, burying your fingers in his dark brown hair. He kisses you where you need him, to warn you or to soothe you, whatever fits better your fantasies.

He sucks on your clit and you whimper, clenching around nothing but air. His hands continue to knead your thighs and ass, giving your pussy a well deserved treatment. Taehyung has always liked giving women cunnilingus just because he knows they don't receive them often. He can please them with so little, yet it represents so much to them.

Your nails dig into his scalp as his tongue moves side to side against your bud of nerves and he groans from the pain you're inflicting him. "Taehyung?" You say his name in a high-pitched voice, whining after his tongue presses harder on your clit.

"Mh." He hums against you, feeling your legs shaking under his palms. Your thighs clench around his head by reflex and you shove his mouth harder against your pussy, making Taehyung groan again.

You squirm and whimper while he sucks on you fervently. "Ah!" You gasp when he slaps your ass cheek, looking into each other's eyes as you unclench your thighs to leave him space to move. "I'm sorry... Just that-" You grip his hair tighter and you fuck yourself on his face.

He flattens his tongue on your cunt as your pleasure takes you over. You rut your hips against him, closing your eyes and moaning out as he holds you by your thighs. You tilt his head back by his hair and he winces from the pain, but he keeps his tongue out, suffering gladly for you.

From this angle, he can see your face entirely, capture every expression. He finally feels his hardness trapped in his pants, his tip leaking pre-cum and damping his boxers. He wants to take it out and bury it in the warmth of your pussy, hearing the wonderful wet sounds your hole will make with his dick pounding inside.

The sight of you humping his tongue desperately makes his erection twitch angrily in his pants and right now, he thinks he can never get enough. Enough of your body, of your smell, of your voice, of you. Enough of the way his mouth makes you see stars, the way your eyes nervously find his on the other side of the room, the way you smile at everybody despite their indifference for you.

"I'm gonna cum!" You tell Taehyung as you use his tongue to get you off, the knot in your belly exploding. Your thighs shake while you drive out of your orgasm, rubbing your clit on his pink muscle. You moan, throwing your head back and gripping his hair as a poor way of holding you from breaking apart. "Oh, my God..." You breath out shakily.

You slowly detach yourself from Taehyung, your hands trembling slightly from your intense orgasm. He wipes off your lust from his chin with the back of his hand, licking the excess off from his lips as well. You sigh as you look at him, incredulous from what just happened. Though, he's not done with you and you understand it when he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You then remove your shoes and slide your clothes down your legs, getting rid of your jeans and panties in a second. His shirt still hangs on his shoulders when you push him aside on his back and straddle his hips, your bottom half totally naked.

He frowns when you make eye contact and he hears what his heart is saying. It asks him; 'are you ready to feel alive again?'. As his black orbs are scrutinizing each detail of your face, he fears love, your love.

He gets out of his thoughts when you pull yourself up his body, aligning your crotch over his face. He wasn't expecting to eat your pussy again, but he won't say no to your silent pleads. Your hole has opened up, naturally adjusting itself to his cock as your inner thighs are sticky from your cum.

He feels his penis throbbing in his boxers, painfully resting against its confines. "Hold on, pretty. I'll just..." You wait carefully, your pussy dripping from your wetness above his handsome face. You turn your head around at the sound of his belt clanking, his long fingers working on his zipper. He lifts his hips up to lower both his pants and underwear, giving you the beautiful view of his big cock.

You gasp as his dick springs free, sitting gracefully on his tanned stomach. "Taehyung..." You seem impressed, looking at his erect penis with admiration. He catches the way your walls contract around nothing, a desire to be filled to the brim without you even realizing it.

"Something's wrong?" Nothing could be better for him, but you might think you can't handle him, can't take him.

You reluctantly look away from his crotch and then down to his face, hidden under your wet cunt. "You're- You're huge." You exhale through your nose and Taehyung deduces that he's the first man you ever saw as big as him.

"Yeah." He agrees without saying anything more, only shifting his hands to the back of your thighs.

With a last glimpse in his direction, you lower your crotch on him, sitting down on his face. You whine when his tongue comes to lap directly at your sensitive bud. Your fingers find their place in his hair again and his scalp is burning by now, but the pain cannot compare to the one of his erection.

You wiggle your hips a little as he stimulates your clit, reaching for more friction. He switches positions when he hears you whining desperately, needing more, always more. His tongue glides along your folds, pulling your pussy lips apart that were sticking together by your cum.

He teases your hole, circling it and licking it from your juices. His big nose brushes your bud of nerves, sending heat between your legs as you contract your walls around his pink muscle. The whole scene feels like a pornographic film, but with the realest reactions you could ever witness. You hump his face and moan like it's the first time you have someone's tongue fucking your pretty pussy.

His cock throbs on his stomach eagerly and Taehyung has had enough. He slips a hand down his body to reach his sex and a groan leaves his mouth when he grips the base of his dick. The sight of your pussy over his face and the thought of you suffocating him between your thighs make him so hard he can't keep his hand away from stroking his erection.

"Uhh, Taehyung... This feels..." He's all ears when breathy words stumble out of your mouth, praising him, telling him how good he is at eating your dripping wet cunt. "This feels incredible... Oh! my God." He squeezes the flesh of your ass in his palm at that, his way of saying thank you.

He runs his fingers faster on his shaft, spreading his pre-cum over his entire length. You're so hot, it's a shame he never realized it before. Nothing's hotter than a woman falling apart over his mouth.

He shakes his head slightly, giving you more friction against your clitoris that is pressed up against his nose. His tongue enters and exits your entrance at a delicious pace, moving around in you, teasing your sensitive spot. He gives you everything, relentless with his licks, spending all his energy for you because you asked for it.

His strokes are harder around his cock, the skin of his palm slapping against his pelvis. You whine, but this time it sounds painful. You still keep going, rolling your hips at the pace of his tongue. You seem uncomfortable, though, and Taehyung doesn't want this to end badly. "What's up?" He asks, soft eyes observing your face and you frown as you bite down on your lip.

You shake your head and swallow in a whimper. "My legs start to hurt, but it's okay. Continue, please." Whatever you want.

He resumes his thrusts on his cock, stroking his tip while applying pressure on it. He hisses before burying his head back between your poor thighs that are shaking both from pleasure and pain. Your hands move to the armrest of the couch instead of his hair and he misses your fingers messing his hair around.

You now rut your hips more greedily, your clit rubbing perfectly against his big nose. You moan and you chase your high while Taehyung jerks himself urgently, wanting to cum at the same time as you.

He grunts as you clench your walls, a sign that you will cum really soon. He pants heavily, feeling his balls tightening, his toes curling from the intense pleasure. You turn your head around and when your eyes fall on Taehyung fucking his fist, you moan loudly. "I'm coming, fuck!" You inform him and your hands return to their spot on his head.

Your thighs tremble and close around his fluffy head of hair, gripping tightly on strands of hair as your orgasm hits you like a brick. You whine and roll your hips on his face, driving out of your high.

That's all it takes for Taehyung, moving his palm up and down his hard cock like a maniac. He throws his head backwards, his mouth leaving the warmth and the wetness of your pussy. "Shit, shit, shit..." He grits his teeth and you can't hold yourself from looking at his hand stroking his big dick until long ropes of white cum spill from the tip. His cum lands on his stomach, his abs flexing as he milks his cock dry. "Putain."

Your attention goes back to his handsome face and your heart skips a beat when you meet his eyes wide open on you. His eyebrows are furrowed and a silence floods through the room, only your pants are heard.

He wants to take you in his arms, hold you tight and never let you leave him. He wants you, but he can't. No, he can't because then what would it mean to have you? He wouldn't be able to keep you safe, he knows it. If he couldn't for her, why could he for you?

"Can you-" His voice disturbs you during your thoughts, probably thinking this is it, this is the moment your love story begins. But no, not with Taehyung.

"Yeah- Yeah... Sorry." You get up from him in a hurry, taking your clothes from the floor.

He sits up on the couch, gripping the tissue box laying on the coffee table. He cleans himself from his cum and puts back on his pants and boxers. He doesn't even have the chance to look one last time at you before you're leaving and closing the door behind you.

Why does he feel weird like he's missing on something?

"Oh, fuck! Taehyung!" Your chest is bouncing around as Taehyung's pounding hard into you, relentless. Your pussy is still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but you take his dick anyway.

You're bent over the couch so he doesn't see your face. So he doesn't see your emotions. Since the day he brought you into his dressing-room, it's the same.

He locks the door, turns you around and bends you over with one hand on your back. He tries to convince himself that not seeing your face helps him to not get attached, but it does nothing but amplifies the thundering of his heart. And he's fucking scared.

What if you do the same to him? What if you start to like somebody else? It might happen if he continues to deny his sentiments, but he just can't face them, he can't face the reality because it's too harsh. It's always too harsh for him.

You whine under him, your walls clenching around his dick, keeping him stuck to you. He slams his hips harder on you, trying to show a little bit of anger, but it doesn't work. You like it, no matter what he does, you take it and enjoy it.

In his dressing-room, at the back storage, in the bathrooms, in the studio when everyone's gone, you do it everywhere. And you're good at it, really good. He doesn't think about his ex, not anymore. Not anymore because you're replacing her and this is new. It's disturbing, but also nice.

"God, it feels so good! You're so big..." Every time you speak, it makes his stomach twist until the knot explodes and he comes hard into you. Your voice is the thing he can't escape while fucking from behind and that's why he's failing miserably at holding himself back from you.

"Yeah?" He thrusts into you at a fast pace, his balls slapping against your thighs, wet sounds filling up the room. "Like my fat cock inside your needy pussy?" He asks, his fingers melting into the curves of your hips, staying there for good.

"Mhmm." You nod and whimper, his dick making you feel full. "So much, Tae. I like it so much."

"Putain." He curses as he throws his head back, closing his eyes. He knew how it would be at first, he knew and he still fucked you as if he could ignore the beating of his heart in his rib cage.

Your ass jiggles each time he bottoms out into your cunt, your arousal dripping down your thighs and sticking to his dick. You're so wet that he feels absolutely no restrain when he pounds into you mercilessly.

You were not made for him and it's clear that you both were not meant for each other. You're not his type, you didn't catch his eyes and your personality doesn't match his. But after so much time spent together, wether it was to fuck, to argue or to awkwardly talk about your lives, you finished by naturally fit like pieces of a puzzle.

Your pussy has taken the size of his cock, his fingers have left indelible marks on the skin of your hips and thighs, your nails have left red scratches all along his back from the couple of times you did the missionary and kissing has become a habit.

And now your two bodies make one.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum." His erection twitches inside of you, your velvety walls contracting around him. "Inside of you, pretty. I'm gonna cum inside of you..."

You moan at his statement, liking the idea as much as him. "Yes, please, Tae." You grip the cushions in front of you, whining into the pillows as Taehyung fucks you harder and faster.

"Yeah? You like that?" He receives a cry as an answer and it makes him go even deeper, if it's possible at this point. "Want my baby, pretty girl? Hm?" Imagining you with your belly swollen and big from carrying his child makes him feel things he didn't know existed. The mother of his baby, you, out of all people. You make him go insane.

"Yes! Knock me up with your seeds, fuck..." He groans at that, frowning as he feels his cock throb inside of you again.

"Fuck!" He bucks his hips into yours, his pelvis pressed against the curve of your ass. He ejaculates deep inside of your quivering hole, moaning out loud as he paints your walls white of his cum.

He pants heavily, trying to catch his breath while your thighs shake like a leaf. He lumpily thrusts his dick in your pussy, getting down from his high. He passes a hand through his hair, wet from his sweat. He slips out of you in one swift movement and you slump down on the couch.

Back in your clothes, swiped from all the remains of your sexual activity, you seem hesitant, wanting to say something but unsure if it's a good idea.

"Hey, you know... Your contract ends really soon and..." You fidget your fingers, looking everywhere but at him. "And maybe, I don't know, we could go out." Taehyung freezes on the spot before turning his head in your direction, watching your form sitting uncomfortably on the couch.

This is what he was afraid of. You liked him and it was dumb to think your feelings would go away by making you his fuck buddy.

"I really, really like you, Taehyung. I know that you didn't appreciate me at the beginning, but now... Perhaps it has changed." You look at him and flash him a sweet smile. He avoids your gaze, stepping away from you, breaking your proximity. "Would you? Would like to...?" You follow him, chasing his love, his affection he refuses to give you back.

"No." You frown as he faces you again, his abrupt answer making you gulp. "I can't- I can't..." Taehyung searches for his words while you stand there, looking like a hurt puppy. "You can't ask me what I can't give you, okay? You can't."

"What do you mean, Tae?" You dare to move closer to him. "You have to feel the same as me, right? You- You tell me all those things and..." Your eyes shift down to the floor, ashamed of yourself, feeling stupid to have thought he would have accepted.

You're not asking him a lot, just a date, just a simple date where you would learn more about each other. His heart wants it, but he doesn't want to go this path again, he's not ready.

"I can't give you love. I don't want to." His voice is stern and in your eyes, he seems heartless. In reality, he's broken. Only broken. "You'll hurt me, I'll hurt you and, fuck, I just can't."

Normally, you would be gone by now. She would, his ex would have left him alone. But no, you have to stay, you have to be stubborn. "Taehyung, it's okay, I'm not asking you to love me. I understand that you might not be ready and it's fine, really."

You lock eyes with him, and all he sees is the purest soul to have ever landed on this earth. He's aware of his beating heart, of the butterflies flapping their wings inside his stomach. It's obvious, it has always been clear, he just denied it, over and over again until you finally pluck up courage.

"I love you." The words slip out of his mouth and your eyes light up. "I don't know how to give it to you, though. I don't deserve you, I don't deserve someone like you who loves so easily..."

For so long, he thought he wasn't able to love anymore, not after she ripped him apart. He saw her in every woman and it was devastating how he couldn't detach himself from her. And if he just refused to love anyone, he supposed it would be less difficult, less tiring.

He was the one who locked up his heart in a cage, giving the key to his ex who didn't even care because for him, she was the single person capable of bringing him joy and comfort.

Everything became untrue when he met you, when you spilled your coffee on him. You made him feel angry at first, but it was so subtle that he confused it with love.

"Oh, Taehyung..." You take his hand in yours, swiping your thumb over the back of his hand. His eyes are on you, listening closely to your gentle voice. "Love isn't meant to be easy. It's not always pleasant or hurtful." You speak with tenderness, reaching his poor heart, wanting nothing but to escape its cage. "We have to make it work because it's worth it."

You are... right.

Running away isn't the solution, sticking to the past either. He wants you and he'll do his best for you, to have you by his side no matter what. That's what he needs.

There's no such thing as a key to a heart because he decides who he wants to love. Taehyung isn't a lost soul or a broken heart, and even if he was, you would be the angel to bring him back to life.

"Happy birthday, baby." You smile at Taehyung with your arms around his shoulders, caressing his hair. He smiles back at you, and you swear nothing will bring you more joy than seeing him happy.

You peck his nose on your tiptoes because this man is too tall for his own good. He tightens his grip around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. He looks fabulous in his little suit, a white shirt underneath his brown vest with a cute tie that you specifically bought for his special day.

"Thanks, pretty." He swings the both of you from left to right to the beat of the music. You giggle as he sports this charming expression on his face, one eyebrow lifted and a smug smirk on his lips.

You sigh contently after your laugh has died, looking into Taehyung's eyes. If you were in a cartoon, his eyes would be heart-shaped, literally. You can't help but smile. "Do you like it?" You ask him, tilting your head to the side.

He looks around him, watching the group of jazz playing beside them, then the old couples also dancing around like you and Taehyung. "I adore it." He responds, giving your lips a soft and passionate kiss.

Since Taehyung has quit his model agency for a better one, things are easier and he seems much happier. You stayed by his side during all the procedure, supporting him as his girlfriend. He talks a lot about his emotions now and you can help him this way.

He made the cover of Vogue France not a long time ago. He had to travel to France and he brought you with him. You met his parents, two lovely people who have so much to give. You think his mother quite likes you, she was impressed by your stylist career. However, his father, you don't know. He's really difficult to decipher, like his son.

You have seen Jungkook again and you also met Jimin, Taehyung's best friend. The three of them are really close and you were enchanted to get to know them. They are great friends for your boyfriend.

"Do you want to go to Jungkook's afterparty?" He chuckles at that, showing you his boxy smile.

"I doubt you would have fun there..." He raises his eyebrows as you remain confused, asking him why. "You know, lots of celebrities, lots of girls... Lots of drugs!"

You laugh, shaking your head from side to side. "Okay, okay, I get it, but he threw that party for you, baby." You slide your palms down his shoulders, patting his chest.

"I know, but I'd rather spend the night with you and make love to you..." You feel your face burning at his confession, but you still smile anyway, giving his chest a little tap. He laughs, making you twirl around before catching you in his arms again. "I love you." He whispers, his hot breath tickling your skin.

"I love you too, Taehyung."

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starvvie · 10 months

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Reading 🖤 Ongoing.

the b.s.t. mission, 03 | jungkook

synopsis. you are a renowned special agent from kcia and a particular mission is appointed to you. an unsound terrorist is on the run, and to make it worse, you partner up with a guy you hate. to catch this man, you are sent disguised as a newlywed couple, and in the process, everything happens. a lot of danger, mystery, and tension. jeon jungkook is definitely the one to blame for the latter.

pairing. jungkook | reader

genre. secret agents au + angst, fluff, smut

word count. 4847

warnings. threats, mentions of terrorists, foul language, and jk running around shirtless bc that itself is a warning to my heart

a/n. it’s been a while, but we back ! this chapter is now fully rewritten ♡

chapters. 02 » 03 » 04

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starvvie · 10 months

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Reading 🖤

horus academy → masterlist

@socksjinie × @singguks × @bluenpjm

summary. in a school where greek methods rules, not everything is as clear as it appears to be. heart, mind, soul, and body. those are the teams of the horus academy and boarding school. but deep within the long corridors, lies dark secrets. the so-called loving families formed in the shape of teams begin to tear when an anonymous source unravels their deepest secrets.

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starvvie · 10 months

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— YOONGI ★.ᐟ

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starvvie · 10 months

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being given a hickey.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ masterlist

━ about: fluff, some hints of angst and some suggestive hints

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ leave behind a comment and reblog or your every drink will always be at the wrong temperature

NAMJOON | The evening crawls by slowly. The setting of the orange sun bathes the apartment in bright, warm light before it’s inevitably replaced by the overhead lights. You shuffle around in your peace, alternating between cooking and cleaning up the dishes and though there is a vague sound of demo song rolling from Namjoon’s home office, you ignore it at first, having been subjected to much of his releases over the years. However, once the TV show you’ve been passively watching becomes too boring to endure any longer, you paddle towards the closed doors. Namjoon sits slunken back into the chair, wearing a deeply etched frown upon his face.

You poke a head into his makeshift studio, nose wrinkling at the smell of the stale air.

“Hey, Namu,” you call out, an unassuming lilt to your voice. “You coming to bed?”

He turns round, appearing a bit dazed as though he’d forgotten there was anything else outside the studio. You don't entirely put it past him. Namjoon takes a gander at you then at the small window facing the darkened outside, grimacing at the fall of the night.

“Yeah,” he drags out tiredly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright. I cooked some dinner. The leftovers are in the fridge if you want them.”

Something about the sentence upsets him as the ends of his mouth draw downward and just a second after his hand beckons to come closer. You do so, slightly confused at the sudden request of proximity. Without saying anything, Namjoon wraps a hand around your lower waist, hoisting you up his lap, chair giving out a pitiful squeak underneath the combined weight.

“It seems that I have neglected you tonight,” he mutters, voice falling dangerously low. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s alright,” you brush off, trying not to stroke his ego too much. Your heart might still be fluttering as his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face but god help he did not need to get any more complacent.

“It ain’t,” Namjoon shakes his head grimly. “Come here.”

He leans in with dead set eyes and you close your own, wholly convinced on receiving a kiss on the mouth but instead you feel his plush lips press up against a point just below your jaw and the subsequent teasing scrape of his teeth.

Your mouth falls open in a shuddery “oh” and Namjoon takes a deep inhale, smile noticeably curving against your slowly bruising skin.

He pulls away, letting you — a bit dazed, a bit stupid — off his lap where you come to stand shakily on the carpet.

“Run along,” he chuckles somewhat insidiously, clearly taking some amusement in your befuddled state. You huff, flipping him off in the rising frustration but you both know it’s all without bite.

YOONGI | “Yoongi—”

“Five more minutes.”

Briefly you think of arguing but sensing how despairingly his fingers dig into your sides, you relent with a heavy sigh on the lips and a complicit turn of the head.

“Good,” you hear him hum appreciatively, vibrations rolling against the blackened column of your throat.

“What’s with you, old man? Mid life crisis?” you grouse but it is graciously ignored. A hefty scent of whiskey wafts from his greedy mouth as it’s pressed time and time again, teeth and all, against your skin. Figures that the grandpa has to be drunk to wrangle you so shamelessly. You sit perched on his lap, confined there by his arms, having nothing to stare at but each individual detail of the living room’s wallpaper. It’s soullessly grey —you’d whined to him about it needing to be changed. Suddenly a sharp pain flares against the muscle in your neck and you let your discontent be known.

“Ow! Yoongi!”

Sinking your fingers into his hair, you pull harshly on the dark locks, instantly feeling some resistance.

“Jus’ a bit more,” he mutters lowly, pulling you closer, impossibly closer, as any second now you swear you’d melt into one another. Finally with a wet pop, he unlatches himself away, wiping the remaining saliva with the sleeve of his jumper. Possessing a slight yet somewhat understandable tremor in the knees, you sit back on his calves, feeling the muscle grow taut underneath.

“May I go now?” you inquire tiredly, recalling the bowl of batter that was forcefully abandoned on the kitchen counter. Yoongi looks up at you with hooded eyes and reflected in them is the whole mass of everything he felt but found too difficult to say out loud. And yet that just made you love him all the more. He seems to be enthralled by some deep passing thought and after a moment of consideration, there comes a clear answer.

“No, I shouldn’t think so.”

JIN | At most it was ten minutes. What with the recipe being something so crude as "toss the eggs into a pan" one wouldn’t expect more than that but then again one wouldn’t expect the hump attached to your back.

“You’re hampering with my breakfast,” you give a low hiss of warning but the sack only tightens his grubby hands around your waist.

“‘s not that important,” he mutters into the crook of your neck, the motions leaving a wet imprint upon your chin.

“Not that important,” you scoff. “You’re the one who woke me up saying you were hungry.”

“Not for food.”

You halt for a second.

“Leave.”

“Always so cold-hearted,” Jin whines, voice falling quite offended as he fondles the flesh underneath his warm palm. “You know how many people would kill to be where you are?”

“Then let them,” carelessly, you try to fight his grasp, having half the mind to just smack him with the spatula. “I want my fucking breakfast!”

“Me too!”

“Not like that!”

And then you feel it — unmistakable, intrusive — the literal biting sensation of his teeth meeting your neck. Your heart jumps in your throat and you hate the fact that even after all this time he has this much power over you.

The spatula comes soon after.

“OW!” in trying to evade the hit, Jin unclamps his jaws from your neck with a bothersome sound. Immediately, your hand darts to the sore spot, wiping off the saliva with perhaps too feigned of a disgust marring your features.

“No eggs for you,” you grumble but from the shit-eating grin lighting up his entire face, it’s not hard to guess that Jin didn’t give much of a shit.

HOSEOK | Drowsily moving the toothbrush along the inside of your mouth through the haze of sleep you examine the hues of purple alongside your lower neck and shoulders. One particular mark piques your curiosity and after spitting out the toothpaste, you lean towards the mirror, poking a nail at the darkest of bruises, marveling at the dent reminiscent of moon’s sickle.

“Good morning,” Hoseok’s gravelly voice can be heard in the doorway, before he enters the room, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your head.

“What was with you yesterday?” you ask, hoping that the literal light of the morning will shed some insight on the proverbial dark.

“What do you mean?” Hoseok furrows his brow but once you point at the formed bruises, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothes out.

“Oh right,” you hear him whisper to himself before reaching into one of the closed cabinets. He quirks his head to the closed lid of the toilet and with a sigh, you sit down upon it, shivering slightly in the morning cold.

Hoseok misinterprets this and bids a quick though heartfelt apology.

“No, it’s not what I meant,” you rush to shake your head as Hoseok continues to slather the numbing cream onto your battered skin. “You just…I don’t know seemed somehow different yesterday.”

His lips purse together in a thin line whilst his gaze traces the dark spots with a thoughtful glare.

“I was in my head,” he finally admits somewhat sourly. “I was scared, you know, of you…forgetting me.”

“Oh, Hoseok…”

“No, don’t pity me,” he interrupts wearing an expression of hidden grief. “Just…don’t forget me.”

You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of such a plea. Like you ever could.

“I won’t,” you promise, reaching to wrap your hand around his that was still applying some lotion. He gives a gentle smile hearing it, before letting out a demure chuckle.

“And I promise to use my words instead of teeth.”

JIMIN | Because you so amicably ignored his first over-exaggerated huff of irritation, Jimin doubles down and after leaning up right next to your ear he takes a deep breath and then exhales with a loud noise of pointed discontent.

“If you’re going to be annoying, why did you want to come along?” you try to pry him off your shoulder with a shrug of the shoulder but Jimin being Jimin remains one obstinate cuddle bug.

“I thought you’d be quicker with it,” he whines, casting a damning glare towards the pair of joggers held in your hand as though they were the ones at blame.

“Well, you’re not exactly of help here,” you remark in a hushed tone as a pair of giggling schoolgirls pass too near. “You just say everything looks good to make me leave quicker.”

“You do look good in everything!” he cries out with a pout chockful with objection and though you shush him, glimpsing nervously around if everyone’s watching too near, his voice drops in volume but not in its offended quality. “Even if it’s not your style,” he continues his point.

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you hiss, delivering an elbow to his ribs, eyes already scouring something good in the discount pile of the in-between season sales. Your heart goes out to the workers — it was a battlefield.

“I’m hungry,” a voice whispers in the shell of your ear, prompting long lines of goosebumps despite you wholly knowing who it was.

“Then go eat.”

“How dare you! We eat together, that's a rule!”

“We’re not kindergarteners! I don’t need to hold your hand as you eat.”

“Speak for yourself,” bitterly, Jimin mutters underneath the breath before he gains a curious idea, one that warps his mouth into a sly smile.

“Let’s go,” Jimin whines, leaning his full weight against your side. His lips come to nip at the side of your neck and you groan feeling the familiar sting of his impatient pecks. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you something tomorrow.”

“Ease up, Park,” you warn him, fruitlessly trying to shoo him away. The top of his hair itches the sides of your cheeks and you stifle the smile threatening to break out.

“Let’s gooooo.”

“Nooooo.”

He leans back, narrowing his eyes in a stormy expression before leaning in one final time - this one grasping a much larger area of the thin skin of your neck before passing it under his teeth.

“OW!” you cry out, quickly reaching to cradle the sore spot. Right under the side of your jaw. You swat at him lightly, forming a pout yourself but imperiously, Jimin only turns up his nose, though the arc of his smile betrays him in the end.

TAEHYUNG | “Your hand is sweaty.”

He immediately pulls away with a demure “sorry” under breath.

“I didn’t mean “let go”,” you grouse.

Peeking at Taehyung from the corner of the eye — it’s unmistakable. The way his gaze flits from one passerby to the next, the rhythmical gnawing of his jaw — a futile way to expel stress — he was nervous.

“Why are you worried?” you inquire gently, slowly moving through the bustle of the celebrating crowd. A national holiday — it was vain to hope you could get from point A to point B without much trouble.

He mumbles something as an answer but it's too incoherent to make out. His eyes move with increasing speed, jumping hurriedly across the moving wall of strangers.

“Let’s move to the side,” you urge and he complies easily with the pull of your hand, honestly appearing too overwhelmed to propose any sort of argument. You press him against the bricked up wall of the nearby cafe, forming a makeshift shield between him and the crowd at large. No one is paying any attention — the flowing bubbles, calls of the nearby vendors, the straying rays of warming sun — all of it is too much for anyone to cast their gaze to the side. You feel Taehyung’s fingers cautiously brush up against yours as if weighing on the thread between good and bad. You grip them back with ardent fervour and it’s not long before he slumps up against your back, head falling down into the crook of the neck.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbles. “I don’t know why so suddenly—”

“Don’t worry,” you hush him, inspecting the crowd for any straying interest though there is none. “Let’s head home and watch something good, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters miserably, his breath tickling along the side of your ear. “I ruined a good day.”

“It’s still a good day,” you correct him, patting the arm that by now has moved on to tightly gripping your waist. “Don’t worry about it.”

Still he lays an apologetic kiss to your nape and seconds after you feel a somewhat shy nip along your throat — it was a comforting tactic for him and recognizing it, you crane your head to allow more access. If anyone does notice you two lingering in the corner, the sight is too intimate to stare. Once the swarming crowd thins out of the main street, disappearing down the more picturesque river, you scrape gently down Taehyung’s scalp, rousing him from whatever zone of comfort he’d sunken into. The side of your neck aches from the force of his bites but you don’t remark upon it. Blearily, Taehyung blinks down at you, a relieved sigh tumbling from his lips as he looks out and sees the street empty.

“Let’s go home,” you urge him softly.

JUNGKOOK | “Does it hurt?” he wonders, letting an inquisitive finger poke at the blossoming bruise. The flesh pales only to regain its full dark glory once the pressure grows lax.

“A little,” you admit quietly, hearing just the end of a vague hum in reply. “Do you feel guilty over it?”

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, admiring his “work” as his gaze drags ever so slowly upon each individual proof of his love. Or so he called them.

“Not really.”

He gives a shameless smile and dives in once more. Even now your breath stutters when feeling the scrape of his front teeth against the sore flesh. Inescapably, he meets the seam of your shirt and with a displeased growl, he yanks it away, leaving you practically bare chested.

You stare hazily into the ceiling of his apartment, listening with the ends of your ears to the soft music swirling the warm air. Jungkook’s curls itch at your nose which is a telltale sign —

“No, don’t,” you protest, giving his bicep a weak squeeze. “I’m tired of wearing turtlenecks.”

Somewhere underneath the mop of unkempt hair there comes a disagreeing hum but resentfully he abides to your wishes, travelling lower and lower, the curve of his nose tip brushing against your collarbone. The last bite is particularly harsh, reminding either you or himself of who's whose. It is a fleeting moment of possession, one necessary to upkeep the balance thus you don’t mind it so. After a good chunk of an hour, Jungkook finally disconnects, leaning back into the cramped sofa with a grin of pure victory. It is however quickly wiped away as Bam decided to make two into three, propelling all of his adult Doberman weight on top of Jungkook's back.

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett (I hope you don't mind)

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starvvie · 10 months

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— LISA ★.ᐟ

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starvvie · 10 months

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𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽

𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝑓𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝒇 ╱ 앤♡.

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starvvie · 10 months

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Baddie. 🖤

The Wild Child, Act I ✦ BTS

✦ BTS x Fem! Oc's

━━━━━ ( SYNOPSIS. ) She is suddenly forced to attend the all-girls boarding school, St. Victoria's. Determined to break free, she tries to escape. Her only problem? To do so she must go through the neighboring boarding school and its notorious group, the Bangtan boys. Among them, one member captivates her the most, blurring the line between rebellion and romance.

genre. boarding school au, angst, fluff, smut

word count. 4,586

warnings. only curses for now

-ˋˏ masterlist ✦ next ˎˊ-

ACT I.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Claire, a tall girl with an eighty's aura and a shag haircut, sits in the passenger seat of her father's car, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The car hums with tension as they drive down the road, the passing scenery reflecting the girl's inner turmoil. She was about to meet her doom.

She gazes out the window, her expression a mix of anger and frustration. The weight of her resentment hangs heavy in the air.

“I can't believe you're making me go to some stupid all-girls boarding school, Dad. This is so unfair!” she grimaces. This had been her constant complaint ever since receiving the news, but somehow, like a broken record, she still held onto those words, praying it would be enough to make her dad rethink his decision. It wasn’t.

Her father, Mr. Deschamps, a middle-aged man with tired eyes due to his rushed businessman life, glances at her with a mixture of concern and regret. “Claire, we've talked about this. It's a better opportunity for you. You'll have a chance to focus on your studies and discover new interests.” he insists softly.

Claire scoffs, her frustration boiling over.

Her voice sounds angry as she replies, “Better opportunity?! What about my life here? My friends? You're ripping me away from everything I know!”

Her father's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his tone laced with remorse.

“Claire, honey, I didn't make this decision lightly. It's for your future. You'll make new friends, and have new experiences. Please try to understand.”

Claire's gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, her umbrage simmering beneath her rebellious exterior. “You simply don't get it, Dad,” she says resentfully as the view keeps changing dramatically into a more rural area. “You don't know what it's like to be uprooted from everything familiar, to start over in some stuffy boarding school.”

Her father's voice softens, laced with a tinge of sadness. “I know it's hard, honey,” he admits sincerely. “But sometimes, we must make sacrifices for the greater good. Trust me, I only want what's best for you.”

Claire's anger doesn’t wane, even though she is tempted to soothe at her dad’s words. “Change can be scary, but it also opens doors to new opportunities.” he continues, tenderly. “You're strong, Claire. You'll adapt, and who knows, you might find something incredible out here.”

Her gaze shifts from the passing greenery outside to her father's warm and understanding eyes. She takes a deep breath, slowly releasing the pent-up frustration. There was no point discussing this with him, he would never back up on his word. And the truth was, ever since he got together with that Malibu Barbie wannabe called Blanche, this was destinate to happen. She had waited for the rug to be pulled from under her feet as her distrust in life itself was a rooted injustice carved deep in her heart, but now that it happened, she tried desperately to hold onto a shimmer of hope.

And how tricky it was to expect, to wait for someone else to take the reins of one’s life... No one would come and save her, that was clear. So why not save herself?

“Sure thing, Dad.” Claire mumbles resigned. At least for now.

A bittersweet silence fills the car as they continue their journey, both aware that this new chapter holds challenges and possibilities that neither can fully anticipate. The beginning of a plan to escape the boarding school, however, started to thread like a lightning bolt in the girl’s mind.

She would make sure no one would see it coming. And one thing was certain, Claire Deschamps would never settle into a life in the middle of nowhere, nor a life she hadn’t chosen herself.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Claire steps out of her father's car, her jeans bomber jacket with wide shoulders and lots of sewn trinkets contrasting greatly with the more conservative uniforms of the other students passing by. Their plaid skirts had at least two full hands more fabric compared to the black leather one she used.

She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for what lies ahead. Mr. Deschamps opens the trunk, retrieving her suitcase and opening space for two employees to try and lift the big chest full of stickers that also belonged to Claire.

“Here you go, honey.” He hands the lush green suitcase to her. “I hope you find… Some great things here.”

She takes it, grudgingly. “Don’t be so disappointed when I don’t.”

Her father shows a sympathetic smile on his face as he pauses to take in what she had just said. “I understand, Claire.” He opts to say. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Claire nods, unable to hide her lingering resentment. Her father gives her a last reassuring smile before driving away.

As she sees the Rolls-Royce disappearing on the dirty road, the Headmistress Winters, a stern and composed woman in her fifties whom she had already seen printed on the flyer advertising the school, approaches Claire with an air of authority. The disapproving expression that she wears only exacerbates Claire’s dislike for her furthermore.

“You must be Miss Deschamps, our newest student,” the woman says, inspecting her closer. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

To that, Claire rolls her eyes discreetly, her guard already up. “Oh, joy,” she mutters under her breath.

Putting on a polite facade, the Headmistress takes a step further, “As you know, I am Headmistress Winters. Your father and I talked on the phone. Welcome to St. Victoria’s Academy. Here we expect our students to uphold the highest standards of discipline and academic excellence.” She waves her hand in a high class and fluid motion, introducing the grand structure of the school behind her.

There is a moment of silence as Claire fights the urge to scoff, her skepticism apparent.

“Sounds like a real party,” she mutters dryly under her breath.

Headmistress Winters's eyes narrow not catching what the girl has to say, however, judging by the lack of excitement on Claire’s part and her many years of experience when it came to building character, she maintains her composed demeanor. She knows a troublemaker when she sees one.

With thinly veiled annoyance she adds firmly, “Respect and compliance are expected from all students, Claire. You'll find that St. Victoria’s Academy offers numerous opportunities for personal development and camaraderie. I suggest you keep an open mind.”

Claire's expression remains guarded, her disdain for the headmistress palpable the more words fell from her mouth. Her tone is pure cynicism as she answers. “Sure, Mrs. Winters. I'll keep an open mind while I'm here.”

Begrudgingly, she follows the older woman through the school's grand entrance, the imposing architecture and hushed conversations heightening her unease.

The Hall of Entrance in the all-girls boarding school exudes an air of elegance and tradition. Polished marble floors stretch out beneath the students' feet, reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers that hang overhead. Tall, arched windows line the walls, allowing sunlight to filter in and cast a warm, inviting glow on the surroundings.

As Claire steps into the hall after the Headmistress, she is greeted by a flurry of activity. Girls in crisp uniforms pass by more eagerly than the ones she saw outside, their eyes darting to and fro, their hushed whispers carrying snippets of gossip. The hall becomes a stage for both fellowship and rivalry, as cliques form and dissolve with each passing moment.

The sound of clicking heels and rustling skirts mingles with the gentle murmur of conversation, creating a symphony of feminine energy. Some girls walk with confidence, their heads held high, while others seem more reserved, their eyes darting nervously as they try to find their place within the social hierarchy.

Portraits of past headmistresses and notable alumnae adorn the walls, their stern gazes reminding the students of the institution's legacy and the high expectations placed upon them. Some peak Claire’s attention. One of the spaces in particular, the one dedicated to the sports league, shows boys’ teams and trophies they earned against them, but she can’t find the right moment to ask what it is about as Mrs. Winters walks like a thunderstorm.

The aroma of freshly polished wood and the faint hint of perfume linger in the air making her curiosity calmly dissipate, creating an atmosphere that is both refined and pansy.

A grand staircase, its banisters intricately carved, leads to the upper levels of the school. It serves as a focal point, drawing the eyes of the girls as they ascend and descend, their interactions playing out on the stage of the hall.

Claire becomes acutely aware of the watchful eyes as she makes her way through the bustling crowd, trailing the steps of Mrs. Winters. Some girls shoot her curious glances, sizing her up and speculating about the newcomer. Whispers trail in her wake, snippets of conversation filled with intrigue and speculation.

Mrs. Winters then suddenly turns to face her once more, revealing behind her shoulder line a girl who matches Claire’s height, with bangs and a cascade of hazel hair. The girl’s warm and open expression contrasts greatly with Claire’s defensive demeanor.

Noticing Claire’s disinterest, Mrs. Winters starts, “Let me introduce you to your new roommate, Claire. She’ll help you settle in.”

Extending her hand politely and rather excitedly, the girl before her greets, “Hi! I'm Ella. It’s really nice to meet you!”

Claire reluctantly shakes Ella's hand, her guard still up. Frustrated by the already lack of choice on her end she mumbles, “Yeah, hi.”

Headmistress Winters nods curtly, signaling the end of their interaction. “Miss Dubois, why don’t you show Claire to your dormitory and explain how things work around here? I was in the middle of a rather urgent matter when she arrived...”

Without missing a beat, Ella promptly nods, understanding the task at hand. “Sure thing, Headmistress. Follow me, roomie!”

The newfound nickname makes Claire hiss internally like a cornered cat, but she plays the part, thankful to finally get herself rid of the Headmistress's presence.

Before the two of them can walk further away, Mrs. Winters dismissively points again, “Very well, off you go. Make sure you familiarize yourself with the rules and expectations of this institution, Miss Deschamps.”

Claire raises an eyebrow, her rebellious spirit flickering to life. “I'll keep that in mind, Headmistress,” she replies defiantly, turning her back to the woman.

Leaving the bustling hall and the scrutinizing eyes of the older woman, Claire turns to Ella, a sense of complicity forming between them as she notices how much more relaxed her new guide seems to be.

Smiling, Ella reassures her. “I promise this is not all as daunting as it seems.” Claire takes a deep breath, her apprehension giving way to a glimmer of hope. She follows Ella, ready to navigate the challenges of this new environment, determined to find her place amidst the rules and expectations she so vehemently resents. Who knows?, she thinks, maybe her new roommate can give her an escape route without even noticing. She could be escaping St. Victoria’s much earlier than she had predicted.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Claire wasn’t convinced if Ella had what it takes to be her newfound ally. The headmistress seemed to trust her enough which made her either valuable to the plan or a stone in her shoe. Although Claire was pending more to the former since the girl seemed very friendly as they kept a light conversation and she led the way through the bustling hallways. More often than not, the veteran would gush about her own friends as she vibrantly pointed to Claire how their day-to-day was, and for moments, more than to seek intel to architect her plan, the brunette found herself momentarily forgetting about her purpose as she got infected by Ella’s contagious energy.

Their footsteps echo softly as they step onto the serene patio, where blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges create a serene oasis within the school grounds. The sound of laughter and animated conversations drifts through the air as girls gather in small groups, enjoying moments of respite and fellowship.

Claire’s eyes scan the scenery, and they get caught in the ruckus three girls are making right by the center fountain of the patio. The one standing in the middle, a blonde with a high ballerina bun, dances excitedly as she flashes a knitted scarf to her peers. “You think JK will like it?” Her voice travels through the open space as she points specifically to the initials engraved in it.

Noticing Claire’s mind is far away from whatever she is saying, Ella leans closer, whispering, “That’s Vivienne for you,” she chuckles as Claire’s glance shifts quickly back, “Everyone calls her Vivi and you’ll soon hate her too, trust me.”

To that statement, Claire’s eyes return inquiring to Ella’s, her nose scrunching in doubt.

“You see, she delusionally believes she and some trouble boy are meant to be. We’re all tired to hear about it, or witness moments like this.” Ella points with her head to the blonde once more. “There she goes, making him a scarf he won’t probably use. Tell me about waste of time!”

Claire mildly snorts entertained, looking at the scene as well. “Poor girl.”

“Oh, believe me!” Ella exhales, walking away and her roommate follows, “That one is nothing of the sort. Imagine Regina George in real life. That’s her, right there.”

In a lack of response from the brunette, Ella gestures towards a row of benches shaded by a grand oak tree. ”Anyways, this is our patio, Claire. It's the perfect spot to relax and soak up some sunshine during breaks. And see over there? That's the canteen.”

The delicious aroma of freshly cooked meals fills the air as soon as they step closer to the precinct. Girls line up at the serving counter, chatting and exchanging stories as they eagerly await their turn. The room is alive with vibrant colors, with posters and artwork adorning the walls, adding a touch of creativity to the space.

“We refuel here, obviously.” Ella glances excited to see Claire’s reaction. “The food is surprisingly good, and there's always a variety of options to choose from… Well. When the boys don’t join, that is. They can be savages.” she chuckles nonchalantly.

Suddenly Claire’s eyes perk with curiosity. Every bit of information she had gathered about the school before arriving said this was an all-girls academy, but then again, there were existent photos of boys displayed in the hall. Not to say Vivienne’s parade a second ago. Do they have a day off?, she muses, Could this be an opportunity? “What do you mean boys? Isn’t this an all-girls school?” she voices her thoughts as Ella takes the lead again, taking her on another stroll.

The energetic roommate greets some girls that pass by them with a sympathetic smile before returning her focus to the newcomer beside her.

“Well, yeah. The Alarie boarding school for boys is right across the river, and we often have classes together. You know, lack of teachers in the far countryside.” she shrugs.

Before she can inquire further, Ella is already distracted, smiling at the passersby.

“With Jimin? Again?! God, what’s her secret!” They hear a girl gasp to a friend as they crossways.

Oh. I see..., Claire’s thoughts put the pieces together. She quickly looks at the hazel-haired girl making her company.

By the raise of eyebrows that she gives her and the flicker of frolic that flashes in her eyes, Ella is quick to warn, “It’s strictly forbidden to hang out with them boys, Claire. No smogging. No funny hands.”

“But she just-” Claire refuted pointing behind her shoulders to the girl that passed by sharing her indignation a bit too loudly.

Ella gave her a warning yet laid-back glance, “Alright, people go on with it in secret but as you can see, nothing is really a secret around here. And then when you least expect it, bam! You’re in trouble!”

“Are they at least hot? Or I don’t know... Worth the trouble?”

Ella thinks for a second and then shrugs with a naivety Claire knows to be fake, “How would I know?”

“If you say so!” Claire pretends to salute dramatically, a bickering well read by the other as to the current square state the Academy insisted on following rules. And so, Ella pulls her to a quick jog entertained, and a bit tempted to show her new roommate she also knew how to break a few of them. Even if the rules she was breaking weren’t as grand as Claire deemed them to be. The students passing by confirmed the thought as they judged their behavior, and Claire laughed even louder at their tedious conformism. The rule about not running in the hallways was true indeed.

As they arrive at their shared dormitory, their footsteps grow softer as they enter the hushed ambiance of the living quarters. The dormitory is a cozy space adorned with tasteful decorations, featuring two neatly made beds, desks adorned with books and personal touches, and small corkboards for photos and reminders.

Ella jumps to sit on her own bed, bouncing on the mattress as she does so. “And here we are,” she gestures. “Our humble abode. It may not be the biggest, but it's home.”

Claire looks around the room, a hint of curiosity dancing in her eyes as she imagines the memories that will unfold within these walls, even if for brief moments. Ella seems a nice girl, but she won’t be around to discover much more about her. She needs to escape this. Her real friends await in the big city.

“Yeah, it's not bad…”

Ella grins with the comment, her warmth shining through.

“We'll make it cozy, you’ll see,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, you still have to meet my girls! They are rooming right in front of us. It’s great to share stuff and to keep gossip in day!” She laughs at her own behavior.

As Claire sets her suitcase down and begins to unpack, a bit aloof to her roommate’s words, a newfound sense of optimism fills the room. To Ella is the beginning of a new friendship, even if her roommate was a hard one to crack. But she was patient, everyone had their personal time after all. To Claire, it is a journey through a path she had never charted before, but her father was right about one thing---she is strong. And she will prevail.

“We’ll meet them in a few!” Ella continues, snapping Claire out of her thoughts, “They went to pick up your uniforms for you.”

Claire eyes her with gratitude, showing for the first time a smile, even if timid, and her roommate mimicked the action. Only hers was as big as her enthusiasm for finally having a friend to share her bedroom with.

Still sitting by her bed, Ella watches as Claire takes only her toiletries out of her green suitcase, as well as a portrait of her and what the girl gathered to be her mom. The tall wild child discards the pouch with her cosmetics by the bed, as she walks toward the bedside table, closely placed to the window, adjusting the portrait on top of it. Her clothes, still inside the suitcase, didn’t seem important and were left forgotten still inside it, untouched. Or so Ella thought so.

“Your mom is beautiful,” she comments gently, looking at how Claire’s eyes seem to hover with longing at the picture.

The brunette opens a small smile, thanking her roommate almost in a whisper, eyes still glued to the image of her mom. How she missed her.

And then suddenly a loud pang interrupts the moment, making her jump and Ella scream. Startled by the sudden impact of a ball against her bedroom window, she had fallen back onto her bed, her heart racing. She swiftly rises and storms towards the window again, fueled by annoyance and ready to unleash her frustration on the culprit responsible.

Seething with anger, Claire flings open the window of her dorm room on the second floor, ready to give the culprit a piece of her mind. Ella knees on her bed to look at the indicted herself. “Shit.” She manages to say.

Claire’s words, however, catch in her throat as she locks eyes with a boy she has never seen before, and taking by Ella’s reaction beside her, it was clear that wasn’t her case, her roommate knew him.

His mischievous grin and charismatic presence immediately captivate her, and a flicker of curiosity replaces her initial anger. Still, she stands her ground and through gritted teeth, she lashes, “What's your problem?!”

Both girls watch as he brings casually one of his hands to shield his eyes from the sun, his smile gleaming with amusement.

“Oh, I apologize, princess,” he says charmingly. “You weren’t supposed to-” he trails off, “Well, I wasn’t looking to make an impression on you but now…” he considers, his smile doubling the size.

Claire tries to maintain her composure, but there's an undeniable pull towards the Alarie’s boy that she can't ignore.

“Impression?” She scoffs slightly flustered, “If it’s at being stupid, you've certainly succeeded. Who are you anyway?”

The boy takes a step closer toward the shade of the tall building to see her better, a playful glint in his eyes as he keeps looking up chuckling at her response.

With a smirk, he replies. “You didn’t hear of me? I'm Jungkook,” he says as if it explains a lot, with a smugness that makes Claire crazy to punch out of his face. “I go to the Alarie’s, right next door.”

“JK!” another boy shouts from a distance, and Claire’s eyes travel to the field to meet the face of Jungkook’s peer. A group of boys is joyfully hanging out there, waiting for him.

As her eyes turn back to him, standing beneath her window, with a raised eyebrow, Jungkook says with yet another chuckle, “You never told me your name.”

She sneers, “And I won’t.”

Despite her refusal, Claire can't help but feel a certain curiosity pull toward Jungkook. His confidence and charm leave her intrigued, even if she tries to deny it or finds it too brazen.

Jungkook sends another intrigued look her way, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Don't worry, princess. I’ll find it soon enough.” that answer only makes her blood boil further. “Besides, life's too short to be boring, don't you think? I like the mystery.” He shrugs with a smile, picking the rugby ball that was fallen by his feet, and starting to walk back. He turns once again to see her reaction, raising his voice as he adds, “And tell your rat roommate that the next one is meant for her!” He lifts the ball in his hand as if he raised a toast.

“I'm not fucking interested in your idea of excitement, Jungkook. Save your charm for someone else!” She shouts defiantly but he only laughs in response, now fully turning his back and jogging swiftly toward his friends.

She can't help but watch his back and carefree stance, even if Ella’s presence is made heard by her side. Under rushed and muted curses, the girl gets up from the bed, initiating an anxious breakdown as she paced back and forth inside their bedroom.

Claire’s gaze finally moves away from the window to fall upon her roommate’s state. “Not that it’s any of my business, but... You wanna talk about it?” she asks, gaining no response apart from a full stop on the pacing and Ella’s hands coming to a desperate grip on her own locks.

“Ella!” Claire calls her, closing the distance between them, “Hey, what’s going on?” The change of attitude of the girl was so brusque from her previous joyful self that it got her worried.

She gently touched her shoulder, and Ella’s eyes finally found her own. “I’m totally, completely, fucked.” She confesses finally.

“What happened? Is it about this Jungkook guy?”

The hazel-haired girl gives her a nod and Claire’s eyebrows knit together. She manages to inhale, ready to question further but they are interrupted by the cheerful tinkle of shoes and greetings.

“We got it!” It’s what she hears as she looks at the door to their room that had been left open. Two girls enter the space, both shorter than Ella and her. They look excited, probably having fun on the way there.

“Hi! You must be the new girl,” The shortest one says, giving her a cordial smile. She has her long honey-blonde hair held back by a bow. “I’m Lola, this is Avery...”

“And this is your uniforms!” While Lola has a royal aura to her, somewhat restrained and charismatic, Avery seems more upfront and girly. Her hair is like coal and so glossy that it shines hues of dark blue in the light.

Taking the folded clothes from her hands with a smile of her own, Claire introduces herself. “Thank you, I’m Claire. And you really didn’t have to do it-”

“It’s totally fine, we wanted to!” Lola insists bubbly, waving off, and the brunette smiles thankful.

The blonde walks her way toward Ella’s bed, familiar enough to sit on it as she grabs a pillow to hug as she did so.

“Girls. He knows.” To Claire’s relief, Ella finally enters the conversation. “I hate myself!” She adds, grunting.

She notices how the other two react fervently to the comment as she places the pile of uniforms on top of her bed, ceasing to be the focus of their attention. They look at Ella with staring eyes, clearly on topic but still indignant about the rest of the information that still doesn’t come.

“What do you mean he knows?!” Avery is the first to question. “How would he know? There were no boys in class that day...”

To which Lola quickly made a comment with a nudge at her waist, “I told you there was! Louis, remember?”

At the same time, Ella explained. “Now Jungkook sent a stupid ball flying up the window on purpose. After my head of course!”

While Claire looked from one to another trying to unveil the situation, both Avery and Lola unleashed a series of wroth exclamations, to what Ella took part in instead of actually providing a clearer explanation.

“I’m sorry.” Claire interrupted. “But can someone situate me here? What does this Jungkook know? And why is it a big deal? I’m lost.” She had a notion she was being brazen as she wasn’t close to the three friends before her, but not a couple minutes before she had witnessed a boy sending a warning in the shape of a rugby ball to her roommate. If this was to continue while she stayed there, she needed to know at least the basics.

Avery and Lola look from her to Ella apprehensively waiting. So this is mildly important, she thinks. And then the latter sighs.

“I wasn’t completely honest with you about the boys’ part...”

To that statement, Claire slowly realizes that there may be more to this school than meets the eye, and consequently, more that she needs to unravel to make her flight seem a mystery. Glancing out of the window, Alerie’s boarding school for boys is starting to feel like a needed pit stop, as it stands tall between St. Victoria’s building and her much-wanted freedom.

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