#bangtan imagine

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

#bts au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bangtan imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jeongguk #bangtan #bts x you

[suzumenokakimono]

Bigger issue

Pairing: Namjoon x reader 

Genre: au, fluff, friends to lovers 

Word count: 9k

Summary: Long winter had left you with some additional kgs and you were very sulky about it. You knew you were not fat, but you didn’t feel yourself. This was not you, not the real one! You wanted to hide and wait for better times. 

A/N: I’ve gained some weight recently and I am not very happy about it. I had to get it out of my system.

P.S. I started to write a new one-shot with Jimin but I am so whipped for Namjoon I am doomed.

Masterlist

—----

You sat on the couch.

People were going around you, talking with each other, laughing, drinking, simply having fun. You knew some of them, the other ones were completely stranger to you. They all were invested in their own matters, nobody was paying attention to you. 

Which was fine. You really wanted to be left alone. You needed to gather your thoughts. Your own thoughts which were tormenting you, making you feel worse and worse each passing moment. And you knew it was all just in your mind, nobody was guilty, just your fucking brain bringing up everything, exaggerating, showing the whole situation in only dark colors. You knew that. If someone actually went inside your head and saw all that mess, they would call you crazy and tell you to get over yourself. It was that stupid. And you knew that. You also knew you were the only one thinking about that, nobody had mentioned anything, pointed out anything, given you any hint they’d noticed. They didn’t care. And, of course, you knew that. And yet, you were failing to control that. You were failing the battle with yourself, with your own fucking thoughts. 

And you were sitting on that couch. That was not how you were supposed to spend that night. 

You hadn’t seen your friends for a long time. You all had been busy, with your lives, jobs, schools or whatever. You all had stuff to do and no time to meet and catch up. You missed them, but there had not been much to do about it. You wanted to talk to them, you wanted to spend time with them, but at the same time you wanted to be left alone, not seen by anyone. You were not feeling yourself, not as you should have. That was just not the best timing. 

And the reason for all of that was very simple: Long winter that had left you with additional kgs and you hadn’t had time to do something about it. You were busy and had decided to take care of your love muffins some other time. You hadn’t thought that your friends would betray you and force you to meet and have fun before that happened. 

You almost had changed your mind and stayed at home. You had been so close to writing to everyone you were not feeling well. 

But you actually had one good reason to come.

Him. 

You knew he would come, he’d told you himself. Or more like he’d written you in text. He was such a nice person. He’d asked you if you were coming to the party because he hadn’t seen you in ages and he’d missed you. You remembered vividly how much you’d blushed after reading his message. And how quickly you had changed your mind about going out. You’d been missing him too. Very much. You missed his wide, charming smile. You missed his laughter, you missed his big, sexy brain. His everything. You loved spending time with him, you were never bored together. You loved how he was talking about books he’d read, about places he had visited. You loved how his underbite was showing when he was focused on something. You loved his dimples popping out when he was smiling. You loved…

You loved him.

Oh, you were so in love with him. He was your friend and you definitely had feelings for him that friends usually don’t have for each other. And you were pretty damn sure he didn’t feel the same way about you. He had never shown any sign of that, more affection than it was appropriate. He was always nice, kind and gentle. He was occasionally hugging you, nothing you could have taken for something more than a friendly gesture. You’d been always enjoying those moments, reminding yourself it was better than nothing. You knew he had never treated them the same way as you had been. He didn’t like you that way.

But still, you were insanely in love with him. 

So, you’d put on your comfy pants and oversized hoodie to cover yourself up and had gone to the party. 

And you’d ended up alone on the couch. You were bashful about your appearance, actually regretting putting on baggy clothes. You hadn’t been able to have a good time. You’d meet a few of your friends, you’d talk a little but you’d been feeling their eyes on you. You were so damn sure they were judging you over your look, you couldn’t focus on anything else. It had taken away all the fun from the evening and you already wanted to leave. 

You’d seen him around. Obviously, he was looking gorgeous as always. He hadn’t changed at all. So tall, slim and handsome. He had been trying to talk with you but you’d been running away from him, always finding an excuse. To be honest, that was really stupid since he was the only reason you had come to the party in the first place. You probably were crazy. You wanted to slide between couch cousins and never be seen ever again. 

You felt someone had sat next to you. You were so invested in your own thoughts it startled you and you almost jumped in your spot. You turned your head and to your surprise you saw no one else but him. He was looking at you, with his eyes half closed, full lips pressed in a thin line. He seemed puzzled, like he wanted to ask you about something, still hesitating if that was the good idea. 

“Namjoon?”

“Oh, good. You remember me.”, he exhaled theatrically, showing his relief. “Considering how you’ve been running away from me the whole evening, I would assume you don’t know my name anymore.”

“I would never run away from you.”

“Oh? Then what the hell is happening today?”

“It’s not you. I’m running away from everyone!” 

“Wait? So, I’m not special? You’re not avoiding me and only me? This makes me more sad than you not remembering my name.”

You chuckled, probably for the first time that night. Namjoon had that special power over you. Your soft spot for him was already an independent country with its own currency and national anthem. 

“So, are you having fun all alone on the couch?”

“I am no longer alone.”, you half smiled at him. 

“Am I interrupting you?”

“Absolutely not. You’re just one. And there… are the others… Why there is no many of them?”

“It’s a party. It usually happens at parties. At least, so I’ve heard.” 

“You seem to be more experienced in this than me.”

“I know a few things, true.”, he made this facial expression of a person who knows stuff, more than the others. “Hoseok told me.”, he added after a small pause.

You chuckled again. Namjoon was definitely ruining your ruined evening. 

“Where is he anyway?”, you asked.

“I have no clue. Last time I saw him, he was dragging his girlfriend somewhere. I don’t want to know the details…”

“Well, at least they have some fun…”, you felt your face turning pink. Why the hell had you said something like this to him? You cleared your throat. “Are you having fun?”

“No, I can’t. Not when you’re like this. It’s bugging me. You’re bugging me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I hope so.” Namjoon scooted a little closer to you. “What is up? What have you been up to all this time? Talk to me.”

“No. You talk first. Last time we saw each other you’ve been trying to publish a book.”

“Oh shit, it’s been that long?”, he sighed. “Well, true, I was contacting a few publishers…”

Namjoon started to talk about the past events, things that you had missed while not being around. He had been working hard and even though it had been basically his work, nothing exciting, he still wanted to share that with you. 

And you really wanted to listen to him. You wanted to know all the updates from his life, even his work life. But you had drifted away very quickly. Your mind was playing tricks on you and even the short, yet fun, conversation with Namjoon had not kicked out the main topic of your mind.

You looked at him. Ah, he was so pretty. Way out of your league. Especially when you were looking like this. Way too big, way to bummed with your anxiety. He would never look at you that way. Why had you eaten that cupcake after coming to the party? But then again, your stomach had been empty, it would make a noise right during your chit chat, you were sure about that. And he would hear that. You’d had to eat something! 

Namjoon smiled with his full dimpled smile. Way out of your league.

You saw people passing past you, someone broke a glass, a pretty black dress was wet and smelled like beer and you were fat.

You lost him. 

“... they wrote me an email about it…”

You squeezed your brain. Random sentences were still coming to you. But they seemed to be muffled, like he or you were underwater. 

“... I tried to correct that, but it was so hard, you know? I didn’t want…”

His hair looked really good. He always had nice hair. 

“...Y/N… you listening…?”

He had said your name. You had to focus! Wait, what was he saying? 

“... and I sold my kidneys because I’ve needed more money for drugs.”

“...what?”, you blinked a few times, not sure you’d heard him correctly. 

“You.Are.Not.Listening.To.Me!”, he was mad but still amused by your facial expression. 

“I-I am!”

“Oh yeah? What was the movie about?”

“... a movie? I thought… you’ve written a book…”, your confusion was going through the roof.

“That’s it. You are spilling everything, now.” 

“Ah, Namjoon. I just drifted away, can you repeat please? That one about drugs?”

You gave him the most charming smile you could produce. But he knew you too well. He had not bought that. 

“I died. Now your turn.”

“I don’t wanna die… I was just thinking… you know… about stuff… all of them… and…”, you were talking more silently with each new word. You were trying to confuse him, maybe discourage a little. He was so stubborn, but he’d found a good opponent. 

Namjoon had not bought your mumbling as well. He rolled his eyes and moved even closer to you on the couch. Your heart skipped a bit, you were playing it cool though, pretending him being close to you was not doing anything to you. He was your friend, just your beautiful friend. Who you’d been in love with for decades. 

“Come on, Y/N. Talk to me.”, he tilted his head, almost bumping into yours. “What’s on your mind?”

You could feel how your face was turning red. Namjoon was way too close, you could smell his cologne. You didn’t want him to see you so flustered, it would only add more to your anxiety which was already bigger than ever. An urge to hide attacked you even more than before. So you did the only thing that had come to your mind. You took your hood and put it on your head, pulling by the hem, to cover your face as much as possible.

Namjoon gasped in surprise, taken aback by the plot twist. He looked at you with eyes wide open, trying to make any sense out of it. 

“You know, I haven’t seen you in a long time, but I cannot say I can see you right now.”

You snorted, before any thinking. That was kinda the point. You wanted to look at him but he was not supposed to see you, at least not like that. You were conflicted between spending more time with him as you wanted and hiding in the closet and watching a whole party from that place. 

But Namjoon had no idea what was going on in your head and since you were refusing to talk to him he decided to leave you be. You were sure he’d said something like “See you around” and simply left. You knew it was exactly what you had wanted and yet still it hurt. You wanted to be left alone but maybe not by him. But how was he supposed to know that since you’d refused to even talk with him? 

Agh, you were so conflicted! Your mind was a mess and nothing was able to ease that. 

You looked around the room, trying to find Namjoon. You wanted to apologize and maybe explain a little what was going on. Not everything, but you didn’t want him to be mad at you. He still was your friend, you didn’t want to lose that.

You found him next to the drinks table. He simply grabbed a beer and moved to stand in the door frame. Before you even realized, someone had joined him. You didn’t recognize her at first, her hair was covering her face. But when she moved your heart stopped for a moment. It was Amber. Your mutual friend from school with whom you both had stayed in touch even after going separate ways and jobs. She always looked good. She was the lucky one who’d never had to do much to actually look pretty. Her hair, skin or outfit was always on point. That night was not an exception. 

You had a feeling she liked Namjoon. She had never told you anything or had made a move, but it seemed just too obvious. Or maybe you were just too alerted when it came to women around him. You tended to exaggerate. But you had no idea if Namjoon liked her back. 

You sat in a complete lack of movement for a moment, observing them, trying to read their body language. You were never good at that and your mind was always going places with assumptions and way too creative imagination. You shook your head. You had to focus!

They were talking, mostly she was. Namjoon was sipping his beer and listening to her. He seemed interested in her story, responding when needed, maintaining eye contact for the whole time. 

That had been you moments ago. He had been talking with you, he had sat next to you, not being asked for. But you had blown it, of course you had.

Amber laughed at something, something that Namjoon had said. He smiled at her, with that cute dimpled smile and she touched his shoulder. He didn’t react in any special way, he was looking straight into her eyes, cheerful and happy. They were having fun. Together. 

You couldn’t breathe. You had to get out of there immediately. You did everything not to run for your life and as gracefully as you were able to, you left the room. People had mostly gathered in the big room or in the garden so when you found a kitchen it was empty. It seemed abnormal but you didn’t want to question the fact you could actually be alone. And you needed that.

Seeing Amber with Namjoon was like a punch in the guts. He was not your boyfriend, a friend yes but nothing more. Yet you were jealous, so fucking jealous. Seeing them together immediately had created a scenario in your head of how they hook up at the party and you are left alone and live under the bridge. You were already making yourself cry. 

But you couldn’t stop thinking that they were perfect for each other. Pretty people together always made sense. 

She was even more gorgeous than him.

No. Nobody was.

But she was way prettier than you, not to mention yet again, she had a flawless body while you were hiding yours under millions of layers to cover up your winter fat. Coming to the party was a mistake. Namjoon didn’t want to see you, he’d just wanted to be nice.

You leaned to the counter on the kitchen island, having your back to the door and sighed. Even you were annoyed how much this small change in your appearance was affecting you. You didn’t want to be this grumpy. It was not you! Maybe you should go back home and somehow figure all this out in your head? The evening was already ruined, you were not missing anything. 

It had taken a few moments for you to calm down. You didn’t want to cry, it was not worth ruining your simple makeup that way. You took a deep breath, then another one. You closed your eyes: You were such a mess.

Namjoon was passing by the door when you were still contemplating your fate. 

“Y/N?”

You turned around, hearing your name. You were not expecting to be found there and most importantly not by him. You were pretty sure he was too invested into having fun with someone else. 

“What are you doing here?”

He came into the kitchen and stood next to you. His hood was on, although you could see his hair popping up from it. 

“What is up with you today?”, he asked again. He sounded resigned. 

“Ah, nothing really. Just go back to Amber, I don’t wanna ruin your evening.” “... who? No, I was looking for you. Wanted to make sure you’re OK. You seem so off today.”

“… oh. Thanks.” 

“You disappeared so suddenly. Did something happen?”

“No, not really…”

“Then why did you leave?”

“Um, I don’t wanna talk about this…”, you waved your hand, trying to dismiss the whole subject, making him forget about it. 

“Why? What’s going on?”, but he was insisting. 

“Nothing, it’s just me… being weird.”

“OK, now you have to tell me.”

“No! Ugh, it’s really stupid and embarrassing…”, you were already sweating through your T-shirt. 

“Tell me even more.”

You looked at him, begging with your eyes to finally drop the subject. You were already feeling new anxiety crawling on your back, because apparently there was never enough of those. But he was having none of it. He was waiting for you to say something, anything to clear the situation for him. It was really bugging him. 

You sighed. You were doomed. 

“I’m feeling really weird… Like… I’m not feeling myself right now.”, you tried to put some sense into the whole situation. “After this winter… it’s been so long and I was so busy… I just… I got fat and I hate it so much.”

You sighed again. There, you’d said it. It had sounded much more deep in your head, though. When you’d finally said it, when you’d shared your concern with him, it hit you how shallow that actually was. You were worrying about extra kgs like a teenager from an American movie. Namjoon probably had already changed his mind about you. 

But when you looked at him you saw a complete lack of any expression. He was not disgusted, amused or even bored. He was looking straight into your eyes, maybe waiting for you to say more. But when you hadn’t, he just raised his eyebrows.

“That’s all?”

You knew he hadn’t meant anything bad, but you still narrowed your eyes and looked at him with a “Don’t you dare to comment that” look. You were certain you wouldn’t take his any kind of remark easily. 

But he didn't say anything like that. He didn't comment on your words, he didn’t laugh, huffed or called you in any way. He was only looking at you with those brown eyes of his, finally adding one to one and connecting all the dots. 

“Ah, I got fat too, you know. I gained a few kgs, look.” 

Without any more explanation, he lifted his hoodie and grabbed a small roll on his waist. He was absolutely insane saying that this would be proof of him getting fat. You even wanted to say that to him, but he grabbed your hand and guided to his body. 

“See for yourself.”

You hadn’t reacted fast enough. Before you realized what was going on, your hand had landed on, well, him. You felt his warm skin under your fingertips. You’d never been this close to him. Hell, you’d never touched him like that before! You felt your cheeks getting hot and red, your hand on his waist already sweaty. 

“N-namjoon, what in the…”

“You can feel it, right? Fat.”

“Wha-Where?!”, your mind was hazy, you hadn’t thought that through.

“Oh, come on. If you squeeze it you would feel it.”

Your head was already spinning. If someone heard your conversation, weird rumors would spread in no time. 

Namjoon was still insisting you would agree with him. And seemed to be completely oblivious to your near death state. He was still holding you by your wrist and wanted to move your palm more onto his stomach. You panicked. 

“Maybe here…?”

“Oh my god, no…I don’t want-t-to!”, you were feeling like you were about to pass out.

“You don’t want to touch me?”, he giggled. 

“No, it’s not that!”

“You want to touch me?”, he started to laugh.

“Yes-NO!”, the moment those words had left your mouth, you pulled your hand from his grasp, using all the strength that you had left and hid your face in your palms, wanting to die on the spot. Your face was hot under your fingertips, you wanted to melt into the floor.

Namjoon was already laughing his ass off. He leaned on the kitchen counter to not fall on the floor. You wanted to punch him in his fake-fat stomach.

Instead of that, absolutely mortified with your previous words, you put your hood back on, pulled the strings and simply hid your already scarlet red face. You hoped it had made you invisible to him. 

“UGH. I’m embarrassed enough now, can you please leave me alone?”

Namjoon ignored your words and tried to catch his breath. He was still chuckling when you saw him standing right in front of you. 

“Not a chance.”

You heard him saying that and then his arms were wrapping around you and pulling you close to him. He hugged you. He hadn’t given you any chance to oppose in any way. Not that you wanted to. You were surprised and your heart started to beat like it was the end of your life and it had to show what it had been made of. But you didn’t do anything to push him away. Instead, you leaned your head on his chest, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Having him so close was something you’d always wanted. 

You felt his fingers digging into you, he was slightly tithing his embrace. He was not letting you go.

“Oh, Y/N.”, he sighed. “You are so fucking weird sometimes, I swear… Maybe that’s why… I…”, his voice went really quiet, you couldn’t hear everything.  

“Why what?”, you asked, having your face still buried in him, but he didn’t answer. “Why what, Namjoon?”, your voice was muffled by his chest. 

You felt him stiffening. You looked up but his sight was already averted, he was avoiding eye contact with you. He seemed baffled, like he’d surprised himself with his own words. He’d said something he shouldn’t have. He dropped his hands from you and took a step back. You suddenly felt cold, missing Namjoon’s warmth. 

“Why what?”, you were not letting this go. “Are you going to make fun of me? Offend me? You just called me weird, I mean I should feel offended by that but…”, you wanted him to tell you what he’d said before, but you didn’t want to make all of this too serious. 

“Y/N, just drop it…”

“No, you had something on your mind. You got my attention and you just want me to drop it?”

“Yes. That is exactly what I want.”, Namjoon took another step back. 

“Oh, that’s just cruel! You were nagging me the whole evening and now you want me to DROP IT?. Come on! We are friends! We..”

“Y/N.”, he interrupted you. He pressed his lips, making a thin line of them. 

“Namjoon.”, you copied him. It just pissed him off. 

He huffed and looked away. He hid his hands in his pockets, he looked so uncomfortable. Exactly the same as you'd been just a moment ago. 

“Was it about the thing… I’ve said earlier? About being fat?”

“What? Y/N, what the hell?”, he rolled his eyes. “Why are you getting back to this?”

“You hugged me. Did you feel…”

“Can we really drop this?”, he covered his face with his palms, trying to find any sense in your conversation. He was getting a headache. 

“But you said something about me.”

“I’m going to kill myself…”, he was talking to himself.

“Do you have a problem with me…?”

“No, Y/N. I like you!”, he blurted out, just to shut you up. 

And you shut your mouth immediately. What had he just said? 

Namjoon’s face went slightly pink, he was actually blushing. Yet again, he had problems with looking at you, he was trying to focus on anything else. You could see his sight jumping around the room, him getting more flustered each passing moment. 

What had he just said?

Namjoon liked you. 

He couldn’t believe he actually had said that. Mumbling a soft confession, simply talking to himself while he had been hugging you was one thing, but screaming straight forward to finally make you stop talking was something else. He was already regretting that, putting his heart on the plate like that, without any good reason. And hope. 

Because deep down he hoped you felt the same. He was pretty sure you didn’t, though. You were just friends, good friends to be more specific. He always liked you, he hadn’t realized when his affection towards you had become something more. It must have been a slow process. One of those when you wake up one day and you are madly in love, not remembering all the steps getting there. His crush on you had been killing him lately. He had missed you, wanted to see you so bad. When you had written to him you would come to the party he couldn’t be happier. He hadn’t planned confessing, but had hoped to at least spend some time with you, alone. He liked you so much. 

Wait, Namjoon liked you? He really did? You wanted to shake your head in disbelief. That was impossible. That was so strange. That was so ironic, you could barely believe that. It hit you how you’d been killing yourself with doubts and uncertainties and it all hadn’t made any sense. Because Namjoon liked you. 

You snorted before the rational part of your brain stopped you. You simply couldn't help yourself. Next snort turned into laughter, which surprised both of you. Namjoon finally looked at you. He did not expect you to laugh at him. He hadn’t planned to confess to you that night, his words just had slipped out. It had happened and he had to deal with that. But laughing? Oh fuck, this was worse than anything he could have ever imagined. 

He was hurt. You’d hurt him. He blinked once, twice, he couldn’t believe that, he couldn't look at you anymore. He wiped his face, just to do something with his hands and took a few steps back. If that was the case, if you were laughing at his feelings, he didn’t have to stay there and listen to that. He turned around to leave the kitchen. He had to organize his thoughts, estimate the damage. 

“... Namjoon… no… wait!”, you breathed out and reached out to him. 

You manage to grab the hem of his hoodie, to stop him. You were still laughing, not getting the atmosphere that was in the room. But Namjoon was still leaving, dragging you with him. He was too strong, you were not able to pull him back. So, while still holding his hoodie you moved your other hand and tried to catch his hood. You caught the tip of it and pulled it down, just to stop him, just to slow him down. Namjoon was still running away from you so it tightened around his throat. You heard him groaning, but he finally stopped in place. 

You didn’t want to let him go, even when he turned around to face you. 

“You’re not only laughing at me but also strangling me?”

He was sulky and sad. You wanted to make sense out of all of that. It was just a misunderstanding. You finally had to stop laughing! 

“I’m not laughing at you…”, you tried to catch your breath. “I just… can’t believe it… You like me.”, you stopped for a moment, your mouth went dry from all that laughter. 

“Is it… so bad?” 

“Yes.”, Namjoon froze on the spot, feeling like someone had stabbed him straight into his face. But you knew what you wanted to say. You smiled. “I’ve been crushing on you forever and all this time… you liked me?”, you dropped your hands, to finally let him free. 

Namjoon used that moment to detangle from his hood and find a way out of the kitchen. Your words hadn’t hit him at first. 

“Wait-what? You like me too?”, his eyes went wide open. 

You were only able to nod. What was there more to say? You both had just confessed to each other, in the most awkward way possible. 

Namjoon was looking at you with his big eyes. And he was looking straight right into yours. Your cheeks became slightly pink under his intense gaze. His lips started to curl into an adorable smile. First shyly, his brain was slowly accepting new information. His dimples popping out were a sign of his full blown smile already brightening up his face. You simply felt how hot it had become in the room. 

“You like me back.”, his eyes went full crescent moons, his smile was wider than ever.

He looked down at his feet, a little embarrassed, a little overwhelmed. But he couldn't stop smiling. He looked up back at you, with his face slightly flushed but brightened up. The wave of relief that had run through him was immeasurable. 

“Not sure what to do now.”, you shifted in place. 

This time Namjoon snorted. Thankfully, none of you had understood that as laughing at the other. 

He knew exactly what to do. Or more like, he knew what he wanted to do, what he’d been thinking about for way too long. He wiped his palms into his pants. He was already sweating. Just thinking about what he was about to do was making him nervous. 

With just two steps he moved closer and stood right in front of you. He slid down your hood from your head, cupped your face and kissed you. Just like that. You’d only had a chance to gasp right before your lips met. There was no warning, no music in the background, no time to prepare. There was a pounding in your head and you weren’t sure if you didn’t collapse on the spot. 

In your mind you had been kissing him many times. You’d even prepared a scenario for your first kiss. It had never been in the kitchen, right after you complained about being fat and strangling Namjoon with his own hood. You could hear other people behind the wall. Someone was puking in the bathroom. Romanticism had gone straight to hell. 

And yet you didn’t care. You could only focus on him and how his hands had moved from your face to your neck and shoulders. His touch was gentle, like it had been the first time you even felt his hands on you. You’d been friends forever, but never anything more. That’s why you wanted more.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He was slightly surprised with your eagerness, but didn’t complain even for a second. You felt how he smiled between kisses, kissed that he was deepening each moment. You felt his tongue on yours, he tasted like beer.

He pushed his weight on you, making you step back and pressing your butt to the kitchen island's counter. He grabbed you by your waist and simply put you on it, sliding between your legs. You gasped feeling his hands on your hips, pressing you onto him. He moved his kisses on your neck, making you arch your head to the side. He was kissing you like he’d never done this before or it had been so long, he’d missed it way too much. 

His palms slid down to your thighs, spread on your body, enjoying its warmth.

“Now, where is that fat you’ve been talking about? I can see nothing of the sort.” 

You didn’t know what to say and you were not sure if he actually was waiting for anything from you. You just wanted him to touch you. 

“You’re so sexy…That’s all I can see…” 

His face was right in front of yours, he saw your shy smile. He also noticed you wanted to say something, maybe argue about that, deny being a hot piece of ass for him, so he quickly got back to kissing you to suppress any disagreement in the discussion. 

None of you heard Hoseok, your mutual friend and your roommate's boyfriend walking in. He was going around the house, from room to room and when he’d entered the kitchen, he was not expecting to see you in a make out session. And from his angle, he was able to see only you. 

“Oh hey Y/N, don’t mind me but have you seen Namjoon somewhere?”, he had no problems with interrupting you. 

Namjoon lifted up his head and looked at his friend with an annoyed expression. 

“Oh… OH. OK. In that case, do you mind putting Namjoon out of your mouth and lending him to me?”

“No.”, you meant that. Your cheeks were still pink, not sure about the reason for that anymore. 

“Joon?”

“You heard her.” 

Hoseok was so shocked and amused at the same time he simply wanted to stay and see where all of this was going. He even leaned into a door frame, folded his arms on his chest watching the show you were giving to him in the kitchen, something he had not expected to see that night. 

Or any other night. He knew Namjoon was into you and had been trying to convince him to talk to you about it. Yes, you were friends but he’d had a feeling this would end up in a good way. He liked you both, he wanted you to be happy. 

And he was fucking right. He was mentally shaking his hand for manifesting you hooking up with Namjoon. Namjoon, who was still looking at him, waiting for him to leave and let you be alone again.

Hoseok threw his arms in the air, showing how much he disapproved of the whole leaving idea, but then he left, being the best friend he always had been.

Namjoon huffed after him and quickly got back to you, already missing feeling your soft skin under his lips. He immediately wrapped his hands around you, pulling back to him. He pulled you by your hips, which made you slide on the kitchen counter, you felt him right between your legs. He was playing with the hem of your hoodie. It was getting steamy, even more than before. Namjoon was kissing you like he wanted to catch up all those years thinking he couldn't have you. 

You moaned into his mouth. You loved this, you always wanted this. Namjoon touching you, kissing you. Damn, that was a dream coming true! You wanted all of that! But maybe, not all at once? You didn’t have to score all bases possible at once. You felt he was getting more into, his touch was not that soft and gentle as before. One of his hands stayed on your hips. It sneaked under your hoodie, you felt his fingertips on your skin. You shivered. 

“May-be…”, you broke the kiss, breathing hard. It wasn’t easy, Namjoon was keeping you close to him. “I think ...we should slow down a little…”, you weren’t losing your grip on him as well, even while saying those words. 

Namjoon cleared his throat. He knew you were right. He wanted to agree and disagree with you at the same time. He’d wanted you for so long, he probably had gone too far and too fast on your first make out session. He just loved kissing you. 

“Ye-Yes. Yes, you are right.”, he was missing a lot of blood from his head and had problems with focusing. 

You touched his round cheek. His eyes were immediately on you, waiting for anything from you. You kissed him softly on his lips, still holding his face. 

Soft kiss was definitely not an invitation to something more and Namjoon knew that. He had to calm himself. He didn’t want to come out as a horny animal that couldn't control itself. You were special to him, this had to be special. 

He nodded again, agreeing with you, knowing you were right. He took a step back, dropping his hands off of you. He cleared his throat again.

“I-I think I will look for Hoseok, check what he wants from me…But don’t go, OK?”

You smiled at him and nodded. He smiled back and before he left you, he quickly adjusted himself in his pants. He seemed not to care about the fact that you’d seen that and he just left. But it hit you. He had a boner. And after making out with you, after touching you. Not perfect Amber but you, with your winter size. Your cheeks got hot and red back again. He got aroused because of you. Now, that was something to think about. 

If Namjoon had heard your thoughts he would have been back to you in an instant. He definitely had gotten too excited about your mutual confessions, he had gone too fast with making out with you. His boner was still there when he found Hoseok in front of the bathroom. He seemed to be waiting for someone, surprised to see Namjoon, after being kicked out of the kitchen. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you…”, his voice was slightly hoarse. 

“Oh, Y/N spit you out of her mouth, good. OK, first of all: Congrats!. You’ve been in love with her for like forever and you finally scored!” 

“Wha-I did not! What are you talking about…”, Namjoon’s cheek got pink again. 

“Is that so?”

Hoseok smirked and eyed Namjoon up and down for some drama. His eyesight stopped on a still visible tent in Namjoon’s pants. He raised his eyebrows with an unspoken question. 

“And that’s because you’re so excited to see me?”

Namjoon fixed his hoodie, trying to cover himself with it.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“I mean, it’s completely normal. Y/N is hot and you probably have been thinking about her all this time…”

“Why are we talking about this?”, Namjoon was losing the point of that conversation.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of! Having a boner…”

“OK, stop looking at my penis. Or maybe you like it that much?”

“Nah, thanks. I like my dates without one.”

“So, what did you want?”, arousal was quickly exchanged with annoyance.

“I wanted to say we’re leaving and if you’re not leaving with us there would be no one to drive you home.”

“I think I’ll stay with Y/N. I’ll be fine.” 

“I’m sure you will.” 

“You’re weird.” 

“So, are you gonna hit that?”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Why? You want her, you always did.”

“I did. I still do, but I’m not gonna be a jerk and get in her pants a moment after we’ve confessed to each other.”

“That’s so cute. But that’s not what I saw when I’ve come into the kitchen last time.”

“Ugh, OK I know. I got carried away… I shouldn’t have thrown myself on her…”

“Nah, you should fuck her. It would ease the tension and everybody would be happy.”

“I’m not gonna tell Y/N about this. She would bite your dick off if she heard you talking shit like this.” 

“I’m not into that but you two have fun. Speaking of, let me talk with Y/N first.”

Namjoon did not understand friend’s words fast enough. He tried to stop Hoseok, worrying what he would say to you, but he smoothly passed him and went straight to the kitchen. Namjoon was mortified. 

Hoseok quickly found you, still waiting in the kitchen. You hadn’t even left the counter, you were still sitting at the spot Namjoon had left you. Surprised it was not him coming to you, you raised your eyebrows in question. 

“Y/N, congratulations on your new Namjoon!”, he screamed. 

Hoseok opened his arms to hug you. You were so confused you just went with it, without any questions. 

“I knew you would end up together. Namjoon was fapping way too hard to you.”

“That’s… that’s a very interesting TMI.”

“Yeah, maybe you should ask him about this later.”

“Maybe I will…”

“For now…”

He reached out to his back pocket and gave you a small packaging. You didn’t recognize it at first, not knowing what he was up to. But you rolled it in your palm, trying to check what was written on the plastic. It turned out to be a pack of condoms. You looked at him with another confusion and added some embarrassment to the party. 

“Why?”

“You kids stay safe.”

“We’re not…”

“There is nothing wrong with banging on the first date but make it safe!”

“I don’t think we need this right now…”, you were handing over the condoms back to Hoseok. Saying you were starting to feel uncomfortable would be a gigantic understatement. And Namjoon was somewhere near, probably hearing everything. 

“Namjoon is crazy about you. If you asked for his dick he would give it to you in an instant. He was still hard when he came to talk to me.”

“Were you always like this or is this some kind of a new trait of yours?”

“I carry about you. I want you two to be happy.”

“Thanks, mom.” 

The whole conversation was making you sweat through your clothes. You’d barely confessed to Namjoon. Were you even a couple? You liked him, he liked you, he’d gotten a boner. Was that already serious? 

You were still handing the condoms over. You didn’t know what you should do.

“Keep it. Just in case. I have more for myself, don’t worry.”

You surrendered and took condoms back just to make him stop talking about them. You hid them in your hoodie pocket, hoping there would be a trash bin somewhere near so you could throw them away. 

“OK. That is settled, so as I’ve already told Namjoon, we are leaving. You would need to find another way of getting home. Have fun and tell me about everything tomorrow!”

He hugged you again and you just waved when he was leaving the kitchen. That was a lot of events for just one conversation. You sighed heavily. Your not-a-relationship relationship with Namjoon was already stressful. 

Namjoon came back to you right after your step mom had left. He looked worried. 

“What did he say to you?”

“He gave me this.”, you showed him the condoms. 

“What the fuck… Why did he do that? We don’t need this! I mean… sure we do to have safe sex… not that we’re gonna have sex! Because we won’t! I mean today, because I don’t want to… No, I do, I really do… Y/N please tell me to finally shut the fuck up.” 

You were already shaking from laughter. You stopping him from this beautiful monologue was not an option. 

“You're definitely laughing at me way too often this evening.” 

He quickly moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. It had become so natural to you so fast. 

“He also told me you’ve been fapping way too hard to me.”

“Wha-That degenerate… Look who’s talking. Before he started to date his girlfriend he got blisters on his hands. Um, not saying that you’re my girlfriend now… unless… you want to?”

Somehow you missed his question. You took his palm into yours and was looking at the inside of it.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I’m looking for blisters.”, how you were able to sustain a firm voice, you would never know.

Namjoon almost spit all over you while trying to suppress his laughter. He leaned more into you, hiding his face in your neck, still laughing. There was something about confessing to your friend. You’d crossed that line and had become something more but you had that friends foundation, being able to still joke around, have your inside jokes, acting like kids just because. Making Namjoon laugh would always be your favorite thing to do. 

And with that you realized the whole mood from before had been gone already. Kissing Namjoon was fantastic, you could die like that. But you’d just confessed and didn’t have to score on the points in your relationship at once, in just one night. You could wait. 

When he’d finally calmed down and had lifted his head, you asked Namjoon if you actually could go home. Maybe your own mood had gone way better than it was before, but you were getting tired anyway. You were actually excited for what was coming next. Would Namjoon text you something cute in the morning? There was a whole nother life ahead of you and you couldn’t wait.

Namjoon agreed to look for Hoseok, hoping he was still around and ask him to take both of you home. He was probably going to your place anyway, to spend some time with his girlfriend.

But Namjoon couldn’t find him. It seemed he was too late. Frustrated, he was running around the house, checking twice to make sure and grunted under his mouth. He actually had no idea who he should ask at that moment, he was hoping to spend the whole night with you at the party, even if it was to fall asleep on the couch together. 

But then someone caught his arm and stopped him. Namjoon turned around and saw Amber.

“I was looking for you everywhere. Where did you go?”

“Ah, here and there. Wanted to catch up with everyone, since I got a chance.”

“I missed you. We still haven't finished our conversation.”, she was still touching his arm, sliding up and down.

Namjoon followed her movements, with a poker face. He had had a nice chat with her before, but now he was trying to get you and him some ride home and she was wasting his time.

“I know, but it’s getting late. I would…”, he was already bucking up.

“True. So why don’t we hang out… let’s say tomorrow? I’m free tomorrow.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s nice. Thank you for the invitation but I think I’ll pass.”

“What…? Why? If you’re busy I can wait. I have a whole day just for myself.”

“Really, thank you. That’s very nice of you…”, he moved away, to be out of her reach. “But I can’t. But thank you!”

Namjoon was trying to be as polite as possible. It was nice to meet Amber at the party but he had no intentions of meeting her any other day. They were never close friends and catching up with her like that was enough for him.

“Like I said… It's getting late. I was looking for Hoseok, so he could drive me home but I cannot find him anywhere…”

“I can drive you home!”, she almost screamed. 

“Oh, really? But… you don’t live anywhere close… I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“It’s not trouble at all. I was thinking about leaving as well, anyway.”

“Oh, OK. But you would have to go to another part of the city… Is that really OK?”

“Namjoon.”, she took a step towards him. “I can drive you, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, can I take someone with me? How big is your car?”

“Someone with you…?”, Amber was confused for a moment, but she didn’t want to lose that opportunity, so she quickly smiled back. “Sure, not a problem.”

“Awesome! Then, please wait here. I’ll be back in a second!”

Namjoon ran back to the kitchen to give you the good news, happy he’d managed to find you a drive home.

Amber, on the other hand, was worrying who he was going to bring. When she’d proposed to drive him home, she was obviously hoping for some time alone. A third person was like a fifth wheel, could ruin everything. But then she saw you and had never been so relieved. She knew you were friends. Friends and nothing else. And you lived on the way to Namjoon’s home so they still would have time for themselves, after dropping you off at your place. You were zero threat to her. 

She smiled at you, like she was actually happy to see you. You were walking behind Namjoon, looking shy and out of place. She took you both to her car and to her surprise you both sat at the back seat. She wanted to ask Namjoon to sit at the front, so that it would be much more comfortable for him since there was more space, but he kindly refused. Amber only shrugged, thinking he was just taking care of you as his friend, making sure you were getting home safe. She didn’t pay that much attention to you while on the road, she didn’t see how he took your hand in his. 

When you arrived at your building, Namjoon immediately left with you, asking Amber to wait for a moment. She agreed with a big smile but she started to watch him closely. She was getting impatient. She wanted to get rid of you, you were in her way. 

Amber couldn’t hear properly what you were talking about. You both were smiling, Namjoon bit his lower lip. She was about to avert her sight, being annoyed and bored already but then she saw how Namjoon kissed you. He was holding his hands on your shoulders, you grabbed his wrists and yes, you were kissing. Not like friends, definitely not friends. Friends shouldn’t be kissing! 

That was some bullshit. No wonder he had been refusing her and leaving her at the party all that time. She hadn’t been doing anything wrong. It was not her fault. It was yours. 

Amber was pissed and felt like she had wasted way too much time for you. While being too proud to endure that kind of humiliation, Amber simply turned on the car engine and without any word, she left. 

Namjoon only heard the car driving away. 

“OK, rude…”, he was looking at the empty place on the street. “I thought… she would also drive me back home…”, he seemed pretty bummed.

You were still living a few long bus stops away from him. It was already late, he had no idea how to get home safely. There was nobody to drive him. 

“Ah, this is just great. What am I supposed to do now?”

You looked at him. You know you shouldn’t focus on that, but he looked really cute while worrying like that. 

“You know what? You can sleep over.”

Namjoon’s facial expression changed in an instant.

“Oh no, Y/N, that’s OK, you really don’t need to… I-I will be fine. Really…!”

“I said: sleepover, not move in.” 

“Uh, I know… But we can…”

“You’ve already slept here, it will be fine.”

It was true. Namjoon once had slept at your place before. He had stayed way too long and had had no options of getting home, just like that particular moment. He’d stayed with you in your bed, with you sleeping on one side and him on the other. Or at least he had been sleeping. You’d been scared to move or do anything, kept thinking he had been right there, next to you, wearing just his T-shirt and boxer shorts. Your neck had been hurting for the whole following week after laying so stiff in one place for hours. 

“But… are you sure? You really don’t need to…”

“Worst case scenario I would kick you to the bathroom and you will sleep in the bathtub.”

You knew he wouldn’t do anything against your will. You were feeling safe with him. You were past just the friends phase, but that didn’t mean sleeping together in one bed had to become something serious. 

You took his hand in yours, just like he had done that in the car and guided him to your apartment. He knew the way, but he obediently followed you. You opened the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up your roommate and Hoseok probably. You wanted to spare yourself loud questions and meaningful looks. You went inside your room, Namjoon was still behind you. 

“I will just take a quick shower…”

Namjoon only smiled at you. You went to the bathroom, quickly washed yourself and dressed in comfy pajamas. You were getting really tired and wanted to just jump into your bed and fall asleep. When you opened the door you found Namjoon already there, waiting for you. His pants were hanging on your chair and their owner was laying on the side with eyes closed. He must have been very tired.

You circled the bed and tried to lay down as gently as possible. Namjoon was wearing his T-shirt, you hadn’t noticed his hoodie anywhere in the room. You covered yourself tightly with a comforter and scooped closer to him. He must have been only half asleep because when you’d been already close enough he reached to you and hugged you. You immediately complied and snuggled into him, enjoying it so much. This was not the first time Namjoon slept with you in your bed. But for the first time he was this close, he was hugging you, he was not just your friend and you were pretty sure your neck would not hurt you anymore. 

His warmth was soothing, you could feel his breath on your forehead. You fell asleep in no time, feeling as comfortable as ever.

—----

You weren’t sure if you’d been already awake or the loud noises coming straight from your friend had woken you up. You opened your eyes, it was already bright. You saw Namjoon laying in front of you, probably not sleeping as well, but pretending as hard as he could. You wanted to join him very much, but someone else was still doing the best they could to prevent that. 

You looked up and finally discovered who was the source of all that noise. When your vision cleared up, washing away all what was left from your sleep, you saw Hoseok standing right above you and Namjoon. He looked pissed.

“... what?”, you tried to ask what he was doing there, but your brain could only process that one word.

“... do you have any idea what you have done? Why were you not thinking…?”

You blinked a few times. You knew he was talking, loudly and probably more to himself than to you, but you had a hard time catching single words and their meaning anyway.

Why was he mad at you in the first place?

You lifted yourself on your elbow to see him better. Namjoon was earning his Oscar for a fake sleep all this time, you didn’t have that in yourself to interrupt him. You tried to focus on a person standing behind him, next to your bed.

And then something hit your face. You shuddered, taken completely out of guard. You took a glimpse at a small object laying on your comforter. Condoms. Condoms that Hoseok had given you. The same ones. The ones you’d left in your hoodie, which had probably fallen to the floor. 

You looked up at your friend with condoms in your hand.

“I told you to stay safe!”, he was near crying right in front of you. 

When you realized what he was talking about, why he was screaming at you, you rolled your eyes so hard you felt them scratching the back of your skull. He was still playing your mom role, taking care of you even if you didn’t want that. 

You discarded the condom on the floor and laid back on the bed. Hoseok huffed in disbelief, you ignoring him in that kind of matter was unacceptable. You couldn’t care less. You rolled in your spot, back to Namjoon to be a small spoon and moved back to feel him on your body. Without hesitation he tossed his arm around your waist and hugged you. He hid his face in the back of your neck, laughing at the whole situation. He had been listening to everything and had the time of his life. You only pinched him on his wrist as punishment. You had all the time in the world with him. You stopped hearing Hoseok in the background. He’d become just a noise. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, feeling as happy as ever.

雀

#bts #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagine #bangtan x reader #bangtan fluff #bangtan imagine #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #joon fluff #joon x reader #joon imagine #rm fluff #rm x reader #rm imagine

[honey-boyyoongi]

Reader x Yoongi | Part 56//??

Word count ➪ 3.2k

Summary ➪ Min Yoongi, is a simple man. He likes his coffee black and iced, he enjoys his job, and he loves his baby girl. But what happens when the new neighbor, quite literally, drops into his life?

Warnings ➪ any typos are mine; angst lol; some cursing; mentions of abortion; mentions of self neglect during pregnancy; description of an anxiety attack; its established that Minji is like mentally ill; slight sexual description; if you’re name is crossed out it’s because I couldn’t tag you;

A/n: Hey guys! Uh just a quick warning if y'all hated Minji before.... well yall are gonna hate her now. Feedback is appreciated, and if you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know. 💕

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Yoongi sat across Minji in silence. They had exchanged mild pleasantries when she had arrived at the cafe. It was a small, cozy establishment; in normal circumstances he would’ve been excited at the prospect of bringing Hani here. He didn’t know what to say, or how to feel, except for anger and resentment. He remembered telling Jin so, while he got ready. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure,” Yoongi nodded. 

Jin nodded back in acknowledgement, “Okay then, remember Jimin will be in the back the entire time. Do you remember your safeword?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, “Pineapple..”

Seokjin grinned at his friend, “Good. Remember, be nice.”

Yoongi scowled, “I am being nice, she’s the one making demands after being gone for half a decade.”

Jin walked up to his old friend, fixing the non-existent flaws in Yoongi’s clothes, “You don’t have to do this, you know. She signed away her rights, you can keep her away from Hani.”

“I know..just..,” he sighed, “I need to know why she’s coming back now.”

“Will that help you move on,” Jin asked.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi answered. 

They watched as Jungkook came into Yoongi’s bedroom, looking as disheveled as Yoongi felt “Okay, the kids are still at the park with ___, she said they’ll be getting food on the way home. Also, Jimin texted me, "the cafe is closed, be there in 15 minutes”, and to text him when you get there.” 

Yoongi nodded, he lightly sniffled, feeling overwhelmed. He almost wished he was cowardly enough to stay. “I wish the first time going to Min’s place wasn’t.. this... I had hoped to bring Hani, to show her the pretty snacks and the pretty drinks..” Seokjin pulled Yoongi into a not so tight hug, he didn’t want to wrinkle his clothes, shushing him. “It’s okay, on another day we’ll take the kids, Gigi’s kids included, all of us will go out. It’ll be fun and you can make memories with Hani, okay?”

“Okay.”

Yoongi watched as Jimin placed their food in front of them; he’d gotten his trusty iced americano, while Minji opted for an iced chai. Jimin flashed Yoongi a quick smile, calming his wired nerves. 

Minji cleared her throat to bring his attention back to her, “Is he a friend of yours?”

Yoongi nodded slightly, “He is.” Minji gave him a look, as if egging him on. “He’s Jin’s little cousin’s business partner. We helped them out when they first started the process of building their cafe. I asked Tae for a favor, and they said yes. I’ve known Min for as long as I’ve known Tae.” 

Minji had no response, she continued to drink her iced chai in silence. She avoided making eye contact with him, and it bothered the ever living fuck out of Yoongi. He felt angry that Minji had the gall to demand his daughter over the phone, but refused to talk to him face to face. He had decided on the drive over that he would not be the one to bring up her absence. Yoongi wanted her to explain; why was she back? Her ongoing silence was making his patience wear thin, and it caused him to remember the last fight they’d had. 

Minji had been avoiding Yoongi; it had been 2 weeks since he’d told Minji he loved her. She had freaked out, stuttering out to Yoongi that she had to go. Yoongi had given her the weekend to breathe, he understood if she couldn’t say it back, not everyone felt romantic feelings the same. On Monday he texted Minji a message asking how she was feeling, and that it was okay if she didn’t reciprocate. By Thursday he was worried as she didn’t answer Yoongi’s calsl. On Sunday he messaged Mina asking if Minji was still even breathing. 

Mina apologized on her behalf. Minji had gone home to her parents, she said, as she had ‘obligations’. Minji wasn’t answering her calls, or texts as well. By day 12, Yoongi was worried, he’d sent a final text to Minji asking her to please take care of herself, and at the very least let Mina know she was okay. Hours later he got a very excited voice message from Mina updating him that Minji sent her an emoji. 

Two weeks to the day, Minji showed up on his doorstep. She looked relatively unharmed, except for the dark undereye circles from the possible lack of sleep. She walked in, silent. Yoongi asked her where she was, why didn’t she answer his texts or calls, was she okay? Minji didn’t answer any of his questions. They stood in silence. After a few moments Yoongi was begging Minji to please speak with him. She remained quiet. Yoongi went to his room, throwing whatever item was closest to him. He cried out in frustration wondering why they had gone back to square one. Had he not tried enough? Was he not trustworthy? Was it always going to be this way?

Minji entered his room, still wearing a blank look on her face. She kneeled in between his legs, looking down at his hands. Minji took them into hers, pulling him into an embrace. She kissed Yoongi’s knuckles and worked her way up his forearm and chest. She kept kissing up to his collarbone and neck, up until she met his lips. He sobbed into the kiss, relieved that Minji was finally responding to him. The kisses become more hurried, bordering on aggressive. Yoongi felt desperate and it showed. Clothes were tugged, and readjusted, until they were gone entirely. 

The next morning Yoongi asked Minji the same questions, but she continued to have no answers. He then asked why she ran away two weeks ago, she still refused to answer. Yoongi begged her to please say something, anything. Minji stared at him, “What do you want me to say?” 

He scoffed with indignation, he couldn’t believe it. “You ghosted Mina, and I. We would’ve filed a missing person’s report if it wasn’t for you telling her you had a family emergency. We were scared, Minji, I was scared, and all you can say is, ‘what do you want me to say’?” 

“I don’t know, what do you want me to say,” she repeated. 

“Of course you don’t know,” he murmured exasperated. 

They spent hours talking in circles. By the end they had both raised their voices at each other, fighting and failing at getting their points across. In those moments, Yoongi realized he would never get anywhere with Minji. He was tired of arguing, tired of having to hunt Minji down when she isolated herself, tired of the shallowness of it all. “You know what, I don’t want to do this anymore,” he blurted out.

Minji gaped at him wide eyed. “I’m done,” Yoongi said. “I’m tired of fighting for the bare minimum Minj.” Even their breakup was unchallenged. 

Minji agreed to the breakup. She dressed herself in the clothes she arrived in, packing up any small toiletries she’d left behind at Yoongi’s during her sleepovers. 

In the end, she was gone in less than 10 minutes.

Minji cleared her throat once again, taking another big sip of her iced chai. “What exactly do we need to talk about,” she asked. “I want to see her, is that not enough?” Yoongi heard a small, ‘oh hell’, from the kitchen. Jin must’ve given Jimin the rundown. 

“Well for one, hey how are you? I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Yoongi responded sarcastically. “I haven’t heard from you in 4 years, you could start by telling me, why? Why now?”

Minji sighed, “I know that it’s sudden, but.. It’s just that lately I’ve been thinking about things. My dad passed away two months ago, and my mom is god knows where. ‘Just turned 30, I kept thinking about my life in the past decade. I have a lot of regrets, and I was doubting myself. Was it the right decision, you know, having her. Was I right to keep away from her? A few months ago, Jungkook came up on my instagram explore page. It was a picture of him at the amusement park with Seokjin. I got curious so I clicked on his page.” She readjusted herself, leaning into the right handle of the sofa chair. “He’d grown up so much, and after scrolling through pictures of Seokjin and his son, and his friends, I saw you. I saw you with our daughter. You both looked so happy, playing with your friends, living your life freely. I wanted that. I wondered if we could be happy like that.”

Yoongi laughed in astonishment, he ran his tongue along the side of cheek, trying to stop himself from saying anything he’d regret. “That doesn’t answer my question; why now Minji? Why are you demanding to be a parent, when you never wanted to be one? The whole reason we’re like this is because you chose not to be in her life.”

Minji rebutted, “I did want to be a parent.”

“When,” Yoongi cried out incredulously. “You were going to abort, but couldn’t because you were too far along. I had to force you to leave your bed, wash your hair. My mom fed you, clothed you, made sure you drank water because you were essentially comatose. I’m still surprised you only had mild anemia from the lack of care you had for yourself.” He took a quick sip of his coffee to pace himself. Minji was starting to get agitated, but he could care less at this point. “It took me weeks to convince you to allow me sole custody of my daughter. For fucks sake, you drafted up the paperwork to terminate your rights, you had already signed them when it was sent to my lawyer for me to sign. I did everything possible to make sure you didn’t struggle, Minj.”

The distinct sound of plastic syrup bottles clinking and a responding ‘Ah fuck,’ cut Yoongi’s rant short. He called out to Jimin asking if he was okay, Jimin quickly responded with a firm ‘I’m good’. Minji slightly scoffed towards him, “Are you blaming me for all of this? I tried to be responsible, okay. You wouldn’t have understood how I felt if I told you.”

Yoongi could feel his eyes twitch in frustration. “Then tell me, I might’ve not fully understood, but at least I would’ve been there to support you.” He cradled his face in his hands, breathing slowly to put himself back together. “What do you want Minji? You didn’t want to be a mom, I understood, I supported you, and now you’re coming back demanding my daughter, my baby. Have you thought about how this is going to affect her? She doesn’t know you. Do you expect her to just accept you?”

Minji’s face was indiscernible, she looked to the side, as if organizing her thoughts. She turned back towards Yoongi, “Seeing as I am her mother, as long as she knows that she’ll be fine. Plus if I need help, mom can help me.”

He couldn’t believe it, “She’s not a puppy Minj, she needs to get to know you. Even I, being her father, have my moments with her.  And what do you mean mom will help you? Are you talking about my mom? Have you been in contact with her?”

Minji readjusted herself, she was starting to become visibly uncomfortable. “I have. It’ll be a learning curve, but she’s willing to aid me in what I need.”

Yoongi had to calm himself down, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. “Are you trying to take my daughter away from me Minji? Is that it?” It was suddenly difficult to breathe, Yoongi was trying to catch his already quickening breath. He couldn’t focus on himself, all he could think about was Hani. “Min, Jimin,” he blurted out. Jimin ran from behind the counter, sliding, quite literally, in front of Yoongi. 

Jimin pulled him to the side, away from Minji’s view. He guided Yoongi through his breathing exercises. “Yoon, you don’t have to do this. We can leave,” he whispered. Yoongi knew he was cracking at the seams. He couldn’t believe it. He shook his head, “No, Min I have to talk to her. I can’t.. I can’t let her take my baby Min, she’s all I have.” Jimin reluctantly allowed Yoongi to continue. 

Yoongi took in a big breath, barely collecting himself to avoid crying in anger. As he sat back in his spot he could see a flicker of the Minji he knew. She was tucked into herself and unsure. She looked at him with those big eyes that once used to hold stars, and now he couldn’t make out what they held. “Are you okay,” she whispered. Those three words were what broke the dam. Yoongi let out the tears that he’d been holding back ever since he woke up to Minji’s texts. He cried and cried, and wondered when he’d ever stop. He kept thinking why wasn’t he enough. 

Jimin walked over, handing him a tissue box and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He whispered a small, ‘You can do this Yoon.’ It might’ve not been much, but it was the boost Yoongi needed. He collected himself once again, making sure to wipe any remnant of his small breakdown. 

“Minj, please for once, be straightforward with me. What do you want? What are you looking for? Whatever it is, my daughter isn’t your bandaid to fix it. She’s a living, breathing human being, with feelings. Just because she’s a toddler, doesn’t mean she’s not complex. She’s observant and blunt, and will out right refuse to acknowledge you if she feels off about someone, “ he says desperately. “If you’ve been in contact with my mom, why didn’t you contact me? If you wanted to be a part of her life, I wouldn’t have stopped you if you tried Minji. But nothing you’re doing now is showing me that you’ve changed. You’re still that scared young girl that I could never reach. For fuck sakes you still refuse to answer me and communicate, and you can’t be that way when kids are involved. So please, show me you’re responsible. Be direct with me.”

She looked at him with a pained look, sniffling repeatedly to keep herself calm. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Minji responded quietly. 

Yoongi groaned loudly, “God, Minji, please don’t do this. Talk to me. I’m trying to meet you halfway, make the same effort to meet me, please.”

Minji wouldn’t speak, she started hiccupping under her breath. The last thing Yoongi wanted was for her to start crying. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I don’t know what to say.”

Yoongi rose from his seat, extremely frustrated. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It was too much for him. Nothing made sense. Could Minji and his mother be working together to take Haneul from him? Have they been in contact for a long time? Who reached out first? Worst of all, how could his mother do this? He wondered if his dad knew, and why he hadn’t reached out to inform him if he did? Why was this happening? He just wanted to live his life with his daughter, and his friends peacefully. How was Hani going to feel having a stranger pushed onto her? Would they try to take his daughter away from him? He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to be home with his daughter. 

He picked up his coffee, lifting his hand signaling Jimin that they were leaving. “We’re not getting anywhere, so I’m leaving. I’m not going to talk in circles.” He took in a deep breath in an attempt to ease the weight on his chest. 

Minji slightly scrambles out of her seat. She looked at him like she wanted to speak out, her face crumbling, she looked guilty almost. She grabbed her purse and drink, following Jimin and Yoongi towards the exit. She doesn’t leave immediately, watching as Jimin double checks that all the entrances were locked. She approaches Yoongi slightly, they look at each neither sure if they should say their goodbyes. For a moment Minji seemed to have worked up the courage to speak, but she quickly squashed it and sped off to what he assumed was her rental. Yoongi watches as she speeds away, a little reckless at that. He keeps watching until the car is no longer visible, and the weight on his shoulders is partially lifted. 

Yoongi cried the entire way home. He asked Jimin to check if Hani was asleep or at least with ___, he didn’t want to scare her with how disheveled he was. ___ offered to keep the kids in her apartment for him to cool down. While he appreciated it, all he wanted was to hold his daughter. 

He thanked his friends for looking after Haneul while he dealt with his current trainwreck. Hani snuggled into his hair, trying to find comfort in his smell. ___ had given Hani her nighttime bath, so it was one less thing Yoongi had to do tonight. He got out of the clothes he saw Minji, cleaned himself up, and got ready for bed. He made Hani a warm cup of milk, and prepped the right side of his bed for her to sleep in. He sprayed down her favorite lavender sleep spray, and turned on the soft star night light she loved. He read her a story, and played with her hair until she fell asleep. Yoongi cradled his daughter in his arms, and he thought back to the early days of her being a newborn.

In the midst of his insomnia, Yoongi remembered how terrified he was to be parenting alone, and would overthink every decision. He remembered how little he slept, and how often the doula would urge him to sleep, even if it was a small power nap. But between all that, the time he remembers most fondly is one of Hani’s worst colicky nights. The formula had been causing his newborn baby to build up gas, while his pediatrician changed the formula to something for sensitive stomachs, she was still colicky. He’d tried everything possible, but it just wouldn’t work. Until, one afternoon while giving Hani a little stretch recommended by the doula, she’d let out the gas that had been making her upset. Her little sigh of relief was music to Yoongi’s ears, and he almost cried texting Eunha the news. It was one of the first nights Yoongi was able to sleep more than 3 hours with Hani. He remembered thinking that all those sleepless nights had been worth it to comfort his daughter, and how he would’ve done it again. 

Currently he looked down at Haneul, and saw how much she was growing up. She was no longer his baby, but a toddler. She no longer needed to cling to him, but chose to do so. She had opinions and had no qualms of letting them be known. She was bright, bubbly, and so creative. His daughter was his heart, and he had no idea why they wanted to take her away. 

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[abloomingperiod]

him | kim namjoon

"hey, you listening?" you ask as you make your way out of the bathroom and into the room your fiancé was situated.

"yes" he simply answers, voice calm and eyes and hands leaving his book to look at you.

when your eyes find his, you stop - on your tracks and your train of thought - to drink on the sight.

there he was, the reason you’re even planning and thinking about what is supposed to be the biggest and best day of your life for the last three months, since he dropped on one knee to ask for your hand - and later, to give you a glimpse of why you’ll need more than a week for your honeymoon.

there he was, hair growing over his neck - less than a mullet, just like you asked him to grow it into -, bare and pretty face, big and buff limbs glowing as the warm, small light from your lampshade illuminated them. sharp eyes, yet so calm and serene gaze expecting your next words.

speaking of them,

where exactly did they go?

“honey?” his deep voice asks with a small side grin, which you want to slap him for. does he thinks he’s helping you and your reasoning, when all you can think about is how remarkably low it is?

him, him, him. everything about him. all about him. him.

“right” you come back to earth, hands on your hips, “so... about our wedding”, you start, but can’t help and feel funny under his gaze, shrugging it off with an old, stupid joke of yours, “let’s end it off- nah i’m joking, but for real-”

as dumb as it is, it never fails to rip a small chuckle out of your sweet soon-to-be husband, and you swear to god it’s the prettiest sound in the world.

if it was possible to fall in love twice with the same person without even falling out of the first time, you’re sure his laughter would be responsible for it.

and once again, you’re standing there like an idiot, watching the other idiot that knows exactly what he’s doing when his lower lip gets pulled back by his teeth, and you feel like a teenager for the tenth time in the last 3 minutes. “...you okay, babe?”

just let your thoughts win and grab him, for god’s sake.

“i can’t keep my hands off of you” you confess, arms giving up, sighing and faking a frustrated face that could never be convincing. not when your legs are already folding and making their way onto his lap, slowly crawling with your knees to the only place you never get sick of in the world.

him, him, him. his skin, his warmth, his embrace.

everything about him. all about him.

“now why would i ever want you to do that?” he asks smoothly, hands immediately finding your waist and burning up your skin. his eyes held such a welcoming stare, you wish you could just say ‘i do’ right now and have him all for yourself ‘til your last day on earth.

“no but i do have something to say” you remember yourself and him, hands finding his waist and caressing around it - waist, tummy, chest, bones, everything you could find and paint with your own touch. “i was thinking, and maybe, we should throw a little something before the actual wedding, you know? like a pre-wedding thing”

he observes you, head slightly hanging to the side as his curiosity get to him.

“not that i don’t think it’s enough or anything!” you assure him, fingers going through his small silver chain that held your proposal ring in. “you’re gonna like this, hear me out: we probably want to drink our asses off. that’s just how we roll, right? but i know myself, and i know my limits... i’ll be straight up with you: i don’t think my insides can take cake, korean food and alcohol the way i wish it would.”

and there it is, one more laughing sound of his, but this time, a louder, bigger one.

the dumbass is laughing at your costs, now.

“you really can’t function outside of the ‘8 or 80′ style, can you?” his right hand flicks your forehead lightly “dumbass.”

“pardon? i didn’t ask for a funny tummy and i certainly don’t want it messed up at my own wedding. that’s a huge ass reason to throw a small something a few days before!” you interject, quickly pinching his sides, earning a cute squirm from him. “plus, i don’t wanna be bloated when i’m wearing my wedding dress.”

with that, he just stares at you for a second, and lets out a fair question as his eyes narrow at your intentions, “you’re not plotting this just because of that, are you?”

another thing you could easily hold accountable for a second fall for him: his caring.

handling and watching you more intently than yourself, sometimes.

god, it’s almost embarrassing how much you love this in him.

“no. and you know that. i really do have a suck ass stomach, you’ve seen how bad it gets” you say, easing his sudden seriousness, and with that you smile at him “plus, i want other korean stuff turning my insides out...”

he interrupts you with most delicious laugh you’ve heard in a long time - since the last time he laughed this hard (last than a day before). “ “god, you’re gross! okay, i see your point.”

“i knew you would. now, this can be very s-small,” you get into the details of your plan and his hands betray his incredulous gaze, as they travel down to the small of your back and rest on your ass, softly caressing it an earning a small tremble in your voice. “less than 20 people, your closest friends, my closes friends, a bar with at least 5 of the 10 drink options we’re having in the menu... we can bring the same flavor of cake...” your eyes keep scanning his beautiful face and the loving eyes he gives you, admiring the thought you put behind your little plan. “we can even wear a tie and a small veil! so everybody knows about it! who knows? maybe we even get a free drink. gotta milk our options out, baby.”

at that, you expect him to give you one more nice chuckle, or even a light slap on the butt, but he decides not to. instead his hands press you against his own lower body, and his plump lips attach themselves to the side of your neck. you let out a small sigh followed by a light chuckle “i’m serious!”

“i know you are” he defends himself, lips travelling north to your jaw and cheek, leaving hard pecks, making you smile like you’re high “you’re irresistible, that’s all”

you know for a fact he felt your pulse stumbling, fumbling and failing as his lips kept kissing you.

“enough for you to say yes?” you take advantage of his sweet words.

“i’m marrying you, isn���t that enough of an answer?” he asks, facing you with the most whipped out smile you’ve ever seen. “sure. anything for you.” you smile wildly at him, heart throbbing and lips mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as you peck his lips. “i can search for that bar, too.”

god, why is he so freaking him?

of course he can.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” he responds, smile never leaving his mouth, cheekily giving you his trademark wink along with it.

“you..... ugh!” your hands tangle ins his hair and your lips attack his just like you did when he proposed to you. your kiss is urgent, desperate even, and still, he manages to laugh against it. he pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and heart to heart, hands dancing around your ass.

you could never get sick of this place.

“fucking love you. can’t wait to put this ring on your finger” you pull back and confess, lips ghosting his as you watch your hands travel back to his chain.

“you and i both” he agrees, eyes and hand mirroring yours, gasping a bit. “can’t wait to see you in that dress” fingers caressing your whole torso: spectrum, under-boob, ribcage, waist, “and take it off.”

oh, are you longing for that honeymoon.

“and you will” you peck him again, “‘cause now i don’t need to care about my tummy”

his laughs fills your room and your eardrums with the most beautiful sound you can point out. his head fall back to the wall behind and his eyes close, and you wish you could have this sight and this sight only for the rest of your life.

“yes, your tummy is well taken care of”

“and that’s for you, too. i need my newly husband a hundred percent conscious and collected for the after party”

he lightly tsks at you "if i were you, i’d wish the opposite” he slowly grabs your ass and kisses the back of your ear. god, he feels like a delicious poison. “plus, i don’t think i can stay collected after watching you down that aisle.”

“you and i both” you repeat his words, head resting on his shoulder. “thank you, i owe you one.” and leaving a small kiss on his jaw.

“show me the dress?”

“never.”

“but i’ll search for the bar.”

“you did that on yourself.”

he jokingly scoffs and mumbles a small ‘fine’, and you fall in love with him all over again.

“but i’ll give you a hint. it’s white.”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

and he looks down at you, small smirk painting his face.

“yeah? wanna pay it back now?” he asks mischievously, as his finger trace your lower lip.

“i just might” you respond, kissing his thumb. his eyes hold a darker tone, and as your bodies almost mold into one with the proximity you’re in, you can feel just how much he might want it.

“...still wanted to see that dress, though.” he jokes, and you return to your position facing him, lightly slapping his rigid chest. he catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, softly kissing it, and travelling to the back of your hand.

“that gives bad luck, dumbass.”

as he keeps kissing your knuckles, his other hand ghost over your thigh, enticing you and making you shiver deliciously.

because that’s what he does. namjoon makes you stumble, tremble, flutter, shiver and fall.

him, him, him.

everything about him. all about him.

“you’re all the luck i need.”

him, him, him.

#kim namjoon #kim nam joon #kim namjoon oneshot #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon drabble #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #rm imagine #rm oneshot #rm scenario #kim namjoon scenario #could die and kill for him ngl

[st4r-d0g]

(this is highly self indulgent & an apology post for being gone for like 3 weeks. hoping to have more new content soon!)

imagine laying in bed and cuddling with jungkook. how warm he'd be, his gentle breathing, and his sleepy face. he's a restless sleeper, but maybe with you he's a bit less restless, a bit more relaxed. even still, sometimes he'll kick.

imagine being kicked by him in his sleep, either he wakes you up or you're admiring his sleeping face when suddenly his foot collides with your legs. you're startled, but you can't be mad. you can only giggle. that's just classic jungkook, and he's so sweet and adorable, how can you stay mad at him?

your giggling wouldn't even wake him, although he might stir and roll over. when he wakes up, if you tell him he kicked you, he'll laugh and apologize. he'd smile sleepily and adorably at you, and maybe he'd even ask for a kiss of forgiveness. whether you give him one or not is up to you <3

#jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #bts fluff #bangtan fluff

[coupsie-daisies]

Alive | Park Jimin

Pairing: Park Jimin x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Summary: Y/N thinks the rain is beautiful, it makes them feel alive. But nothing makes Jimin feel quite as alive as Y/N dancing in the rain

Word Count: 800

Warnings: Rain? Honestly I have no idea

A/N: Just a short little something for Jimin’s birthday because I love him.

Taglist: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @sunnytaes // @bunnypig18 // @burningupp // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @hotboyyeonjun

This fanfiction and the header attached are property of @/hobi-is-golden, reposting on any platform without explicit permission is prohibited

The rain was coming down in sheets, banishing all but the bravest pedestrians to their homes or businesses of choice. That included you and your boyfriend as well, the two of you sitting inside of your favorite cafe in an attempt to wait out the rain.

“It’s pretty at least,” You said, turning to look at the water droplets racing down the window you were seated by. Jimin nodded his agreement, taking a last drink from his cup. “It’s sad that people don’t enjoy rain as much as we should.”

He looked at you, and you took a sip of your cocoa.

“Like, it’s so beautiful and nobody basks in it. Nobody can enjoy standing in the wain because we just think about how it’s ruining our expensive clothes or making us late for work,” You explained, watching a couple of teenagers hustle by the windows with their hoods up and an umbrella shared between them. “It’s sad, being in the rain is a gift from nature,”

You let out a small huff, and Jimin’s smile grew wider as he admired you. You had always been different from most people he met, you always had a different spin on life that he admired. You were a free spirit, never caring what other people thought and often going so far as to say so to people’s faces. He fell in love with you because of that, and he fell in love with it more and more every day.

“Yeah but then your clothes are wet and they stick to your skin. And then you’re cold and still have to go about your day.” He countered. He wasn’t arguing, not really, but he wanted to push you to say more. You were used to that tactic from him.

“But you get to feel alive, and that’s worth more than a load of laundry or some blankets.” You said proudly. He nodded, and you both leaned back in your seats, enjoying the warmth of your shared little world.

After a few moments, when the rain only seemed to come down harder by the minute, you stood up and stretched your back. Jimin watched, and you flashed him a silent grin, grabbing your backpack and settling it on your back before turning to head for the doors.

“Wait, hang on.” He called quietly so as to not disturb everyone else in the small building. He grabbed his things as well, following you as you happily stepped into the pouring rain. It only took a few moments for the water to soak you through, your clothes hugging your body and a smile lighting up your face.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked as you stood on the sidewalk with your arms outstretched. Your face was upturned to the sky, water splashing on your skin and making you giggle as you shook it off your face.

“I’m living, Jimin. You should try it sometime.” You told him cheekily. He laughed. When you looked at him, he was just as soaked as you were, his hair sticking to his forehead and his clothes dripping water from the absolute downpour.

The sound of the rain on the pavement sounded like music to your ears, and you swayed to the heavy beat of it, spinning on the rain-slicked sidewalk. You reached out, hand splayed wide open for Jimin to take. He looked at you for a minute like you were crazy, but you didn’t move, just waiting for him to join you.

And of course he did, he could never resist you even in your craziest moments. He took your hand, twirling you around and listening to your laughter ring out over the thundering sound of rain. You looked absolutely ethereal, dancing in the rain as if nothing else mattered. And nothing else did matter, not when you were this happy, and not when he got to be a part of that.

He pulled you close, your wet front pressing to his as he swayed the both of you in the rain. And people watched you both from inside buildings or cars that passed and sprayed water from the road, but it didn’t matter because your smile was so lovely, and the bitter cold of water beginning to sting at his skin was nothing compared to the warmth that grew in his chest when he saw you happy.

“It’s so beautiful,” You told him, tipping your head back while he held your waist, staring at the sky.

“Not as beautiful as you,”

You looked at him and laughed, leaning your forehead against his.

“You’re an idiot.”

“You love me,”

“More than anything in the world.”

copyright 2022 hobi-is-golden, all rights reserved

#park jimin x reader #park jimin imagine #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #bangtan x reader #bangtan imagine #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #x reader imagine #x reader fanfiction #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #park jimin reader insert #bts reader insert #bangtan reader insert #reader insert #reader insert imagine #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #kpop reader insert #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic

[upirs]

jimin fic writers i am begging for an imagine of reader & jimin @ the jack in the box release party like it could be literally anything idc what goes down smut fluff i don’t care just PLEASE

#i cannot believe i haven’t seen ONE blurb about it he looked so yummy there #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #bts imagine #bts x reader #bangtan imagine #park jimin x reader #park jimin imagine #jimin x y/n

[gaemkyuu]

Remind Me

Mafia!AU Jungkook x Original Character Established relationship! 

Summary: According to her therapist, Hana is making amazing progress recovering from her traumatic experience, but she wishes she could say her relationship with her husband was too. She hopes that this forced vacation courtesy of Taehyung and Jimin might fix the tension between them.

Warnings: Major insecurities after a traumatic event, mentions of past rape, mentions of therapy, relationship problems, workaholic, swearing, HEAVY SMUT. LIKE BASICALLY ALL SEX. Happy ending tho (kinks include: overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, oral, breeding/pregnancy)

A/N: Part four of a 5 part mini-series, in which each section focuses on a particular season in their lives. Thank you for the nice messages :) Hoping you like this one too!

Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

The rest of Bangtan made it a point to deal with Zhou Yi and his actions towards Hana. They had the Japanese Heiress create temporary settlement documents after they had made her aware of what transpired. The Heiress, forever grateful to Hana for giving her an escape from marriage with Zhou Yi, complied willingly and sent her multiple get well gifts. Zhou Yi was dealt with according to his father Zhou Fan, and they assured Bangtan that there would be no further incidents. They didn’t think it was enough, but they settled for now, knowing that in due time Zhou Yi would get his just desserts. He already was dealing with a tarnished reputation as the Japanese Heiress went to the press about him. With his father disowning him, he had very little left.

Hana made a smooth recovery after the kidnapping incident and was back to work in no time, even if the three Kim brother’s insisted she take some more time off. She had been seeing a trauma therapist, Jungkook occasionally joining her at the sessions he could. Her parents had visited her and Jungkook after hearing about it, spending some needed quality time with the couple. However, their relationship wasn’t as strong as it was before the kidnapping. Jungkook had become more overbearing and while Hana didn’t mind it when she was recovering, she grew wary of it when she was healed. He would still try to prepare food for her and encourage her to move as little around the house as possible, going so far as to hire a maid and have food delivered for her when she got home from work. They fought quite a bit about her returning to work, compromising only when Hana agreed to have someone escort her to and from work, while having a guard nearby or outside of her office. She begged her husband to tone down his need to take care of her, insisting that she was fine and that things could go back to normal. She loved her husband dearly, but she began to feel more and more suffocated, so she asked for him to stop coming to her therapy sessions to have some privacy.

That didn’t go over well with Jungkook. While he didn’t protest her request, it did hurt him that she wanted him to stop coming. He didn’t tell her or even mention anything about it, understanding that maybe this was something she wanted to do on her own. Instead, he focused on other things he could do so that she would focus more on recovering. For a while after the kidnapping, doctors had recommended that they abstain from being intimate until the tearing and injuries that Hana has sustained could heal. It was a lot for her to handle knowing that she was raped and couldn’t handle it, hence the therapy. He didn’t see it as overbearing and no one else pointed anything out to him, so he didn’t see a problem with it. When they weren’t at home in each other’s company, everything seemed like it had gone back to normal, but their friends were noticing the slight unusual behavior when they were apart. For example, Jungkook was at the gym more and it was easier to aggravate him, while Hana didn’t seem as confident as she normally was. 

“Okay, spit it out,” Taehyung groaned, shutting the laptop on her desk and sitting on the corner of it. Hana didn’t expect her two best friends to barge in and just stop her from working. “What the fuck is going on between the two of you?”

“Tae, there’s no need to be so crass” Jimin chastised as he walked around the other side, glaring at him. Clearly they had a plan that Taehyung chose not to follow. “We’ve noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately”

“And not in the ‘I’m a walking example of trauma’ but more in a ‘there’s something going on that I refuse to acknowledge or deal with and not even therapy could save me’ kind of way” Jimin slapped him upside the head, scolding him for being so rude. 

“In a not so rude way, but yes. We’ve noticed that you’re holding something back” Jimin sighed, pushing back a few strands of hair behind her ear, stopping to caress her cheeks and stare deeply into her eyes. To some, Jimin’s actions would seem inappropriate as she was married, but they understood he meant nothing by it. It was the way they showed each other their platonic but deep relationship. Plus, Jimin acted this way with everyone, so it wasn’t like it was weird or unordinary. 

“I just... I haven’t been feeling like myself, y'know?” she confessed knowing that there was nothing she could hide from the two of them. They would keep digging and digging until they were convinced that there was nothing left to dig for. “It’s not because of the kidnapping, I hardly think of it anymore, but I guess I’ve been more and more frustrated with Jungkook,” she sighed, thinking about their fight over what she ate for breakfast. She didn’t want to eat anymore, her appetite gone after he physically watched her eat each bite. However, he insisted she eat more, causing her to abruptly leave the table and shove her plate in the sink, not bothering to kiss him goodbye or say goodbye. 

“When was the last time you guys fucked?”

“Taehyung!”

“Ahem, sorry. Let me ask this again because Jimin apparently didn’t use this word when we were last drinking,” he scoffed, clearing his throat and pronouncing his next sentence slowly and clearly. “When was the last time you had sex?” he blinked at her curiously, watching her face flush at such a personal question. She opened her mouth but no words came out. “Hm. I knew it” he replied, pulling out her side drawer to take a piece of gum from her hidden stash.

“Is that it? Your lack of intimacy?” Jimin asked in amazement, surprised that Taehyung had got it on the first question. Still, Hana struggled to answer back because as much as she wanted to protest, it was really true.

“Think about it. Jungkookie has been at the gym more often and taking showers before going home. Long showers in the private suite I might add” he blew a bubble to emphasize his point. “It’s the typical guy thing to do. He has blue balls”

“He has blue balls?! What about me?!” Hana slapped her hand over her mouth, hating the fact that of all the comments made today, that was the one she answered to. Taehyung smirked at her wiggling his eyebrows and Jimin sighed at his partner’s behavior. “Okay, yes. We aren’t having sex and it’s bothering me” she sighed, hiding her face in her hand.

“Clearly you're both not masturbating enough” again, popping a bubble he blew, Hana envious at how nonchalant he could be about this topic. “I mean, I have a healthy masturbation schedule” Jimin and Hana both gagged at his personal information. They were open with each other about this stuff, but sometimes Taehyung didn’t know where to draw the line.

“Have you asked him to have sex lately?” Jimin asked, refocusing on the topic at hand. She shook her head no, looking away, confirming that there was something much more complicated about the situation. “Then what is it?”

“I’m afraid to ask because I’m scared he’ll say no” she bit her lips, tears lining her eyes. “I mean I get it, we stayed away from it so I could recover and be in a better headspace, but when I felt fine, he kept avoiding it” the two men gave each other a concerned look understanding this was more than sexual frustration. 

“I guess it doesn’t help with the enhanced security, does it?” Jimin empathized, rubbing soft circles on her back. She could feel the tears threaten to fall, but she quickly blinked them away. She didn’t like to cry at work.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it Hana?” Taehyung was a lot softer with his voice. His caring nature presented itself in the forefront, but still needed to be bold. “You can tell us, we won’t judge or tell him” she bit her lip, hesitant to say it outloud because then she would be admitting the truth she was afraid to face.

“I’m just scared it’s because he doesn’t want me that way anymore, y’know?” she whispered, her tears finally spilling over as she quickly tried to wipe them away. The two came and embraced her in a group hug and Hana began to sob. 

“Banana, you know that isn’t true right?” Jimin frowned, squeezing her shoulder. She didn’t reply and just looked away. What else was she supposed to think?

“Han, Kookie loves you so much. Trust us. He is smitten by you” Taehyung insisted, pulling her out of her seat into another hug, just the two of them. Again, she just sniffled into his shoulder, not saying a single word. It wasn’t like Jungkook looked at her with disgust or she thought he was cheating, but it didn’t help that anytime their kissing would get a little heated or hands would roam his body, he would pull away with a soft sad smile. It was thought every time she tried and got close to him, he would tense up and shut it down.

“You know what I think you both need?” Jimin piped up, eyebright and mischievous. The two looked at him, Taehyung obviously catching on, but Hana a little apprehensive of the look in his eyes. “You two need a vacation! Just the two of you!”

“That’s a great idea! Where no one can interrupt you!” Taehyung whipped out his phone and started texting his older brothers.

“Yes! Where you guys can work things out and you can’t walk away from each other!” Jimin did the same, but he was looking for flight bookings.

“The private island!” Taehyung exclaimed, high fiving Jimin. “Okay! Both of your schedules are cleared for the next two week!” His boxy smile was wide and bright, childlike even.

“Tickets are booked and you leave in the morning!” Jimin’s smile rivaled Taehyung’s.

“You guys can’t just wipe our schedules and buy us flights! I have so much work to do and I’m sure JK does too!” Hana protested, a knot in her stomach beginning to form. 

“We just did,” winked Taehyung at Hana’s eye roll. “Everyone’s fine with it! Plus, it’s not like you’re leaving in the busy season!” He did have a point. If there was a time to take a vacation, it would be now. Still she wasn’t completely open to this plan of theirs.

“What about therapy? I can’t just stop going” Jimin looked at her confused and Hana knew she was going on this impromptu trip whether she wanted to or not.

“It’s called video conferencing?” Jimin sighed, shaking his head lightly before putting both hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm's length. “Hana, this trip will do you both good. If you fight, then you fight. You two aren’t talking to each other because you’re both too distracted with what’s going on around you.” Hana frowned, knowing she couldn’t argue with Jimin. “The only thing that is planned is your flight to and from. You’ll both be staying at the family property and there is no one on the island! Maintenance will have fixed everything and food will be stocked prior to your arrival. It’ll just be time for the both of you”

Jimin and Taehyung had a point. They needed to talk. No distractions. It’ll fix everything. Right?

When Jungkook arrived home that evening, he was exhausted and didn’t expect to find Hana in the kitchen cooking. He had ordered food for the both of them and sent Hana a text that she should eat without him, but he saw the takeout still in its bag, abandoned on the kitchen counter. He was pleased to hear her humming and dancing to a tune in her head. For a moment, he watched her in silence, admiring the view of his beautiful wife in his clothing. He liked Hana at her simplest. While he did swoon when she was dressed to impress, he fell in love with her simple side. Sweat pants, baggy t-shirts and her hair thrown up in a bun, a side of her she rarely showed anyone. It showed that she was comfortable and able to be vulnerable.

“Someone’s in a good mood” he whispered, kissing her cheek and wrapping his arms around from behind her. “You know I ordered us food right?” she hummed thoughtfully but continued to work on the Ramyun that was bubbling away in the pot.

“Correction. You bought me food and you a snack” she sighed, turning to face him, concerned filling his face at her displeased look. “Where have you been?” she asked, glancing at the clock.

“Just at the gym. Felt a lot of tension that I needed to work out, but from what I hear, you and I have the next two weeks off and are leaving in the morning” he deferred the conversation, knowing that it would lead to another argument, something that he didn’t want to do. Picking up on this, Hana didn’t push any further, turning off the stove and placing the noodles in two separate bowls. “It’s smells delicious babe”

“Thanks, love. You know, you could come home to this more often if you’d let me” she sighed, giving him a peck on the cheek and grabbing her bowl as she walked over to their kitchen counter. Jungkook picked up his bowl, sitting beside her and helping her take out some of the takeout he ordered for her. He was glad that the food wasn’t getting wasted, but he knew she wasn’t too happy about the delivery he made. “Do you need help packing?” small talk. They never usually resorted to small talk. They normally told each other about their days or something they found interesting. It wouldn’t be weird for them to talk about a dream he had and try to interpret and analyze it, but it seemed like the conversations between them were mundane now, as if they were walking on eggshells.

“I would like your help” he smiled and she choked on a noddle briefly, caught off guard by his answer. “Maybe you could pick some of my outfits for me?” He looked at her hopeful, knowing how much she loved styling him and dressing him up. “Maybe I can pick out a few cute dresses for you to wear too?” she nodded her head slowly, her eyes still wide in shock.

It wasn’t the reply he wanted, but it was a start. Yoongi, Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok had called him out for lunch that day and confronted him about the way he was acting. He didn’t know that it had been obvious, but the fact that the oldests of the group were talking to him about it, meant that it was serious. Jungkook confessed with how much pent up aggression and energy he had, not understanding why he had felt this way. He thought that maybe it was because she was growing distant or that there was something she was going through, but he just wasn’t sure. He told them that they had been snippy with each other at home, recounting how she behaved that morning. It wasn’t until Yoongi pointed out that he was sexually frustrated did Jungkook understand how he really felt. They had told him about Jimin and Taehyung’s plans, emphasizing that he took this opportunity to fix things between the two of them. Their dynamic was off and the married couple was the cause of it. They wanted to take care of it before it got to the elders in Bangtan. 

In truth, Jungkook didn’t know how to act around Hana. She acted like the kidnapping never happened and was mostly back to her usual self. He thought she was trying to convince him that she was fine but was really suffering on the inside. He grew even more suspicious when she asked him to stop coming to therapy and tantrumed over the smallest things. Sure, he had taken his own needs and sought comfort in his hands, but he couldn’t ask her to be intimate. What if he triggered a memory or caused a panic attack? He couldn’t hurt her like that, especially not while they were being intimate.

After supper, they cleaned the dishes together and set about to pick out clothes for their trip. For the first time in a while, the two were genuinely enjoying their time laughing and joking, creating outrageous outfits and taking way longer to pack than necessary. It even resulted in a mini fashion show where they would put on ugly outfits and strut up and down their walk in closet. As they fell asleep that night, the two were cautiously hopeful that this trip would really help them figure out how to move forward from here.

But of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

They had left without a hitch, flying out from the airport fine and then boarding a private jet to take them to their private island. For once, it felt like everything was back to normal. They were cuddling, joking and enjoying each other’s company... Until Jungkook got a call from his family’s company about several problems they ran into through one account that needed to be dealt with right away. Hana understood as her husband looked at her apologetically, as she could’ve had to do the same thing. The only bonus being a ‘Kim’ was that since her beloved cousin and friend planned the whole thing, no one would be contacting her for any reason. Hana was confident the Kim brothers could handle the company for two weeks and completely trusted their judgment. However, the calls didn’t stop on the flight. They continued sporadically throughout the first week of their trip, often lasting around an hour, followed up by Jungkook having to work on his laptop. That meant Hana was off doing things on her own as Jungkook watched from the deck or living room of the palazzo on the island.

She didn’t mind the alone time, but she did wish that this had turned out differently. She had finished her third canvas, humming in displeasure at how many canvases were left. Originally, they were going to paint and surprise each other with their paintings, but the one Jungkook started remained unfinished due to his obligations. While she could pick up another book, she had read 5 at this point, she didn’t want to just sit around. The weather was hot off the Australian coast and the water looked inviting. Over breakfast, Jungkook promised that they would go swimming together and he would not work past 10 am, but it was now 1 pm. She really wanted to wait for her husband to go swimming, but at this point the heat was getting worse and the air conditioning in the palazzo wasn’t as satisfying as it should be. Setting down her painting, she quickly turned around and knocked on the windows that overlooked the deck from the dining room where her husband sat on the phone, again. She motioned and mouthed to him that she was going for a swim, but ultimately grew frustrated by the continuous mouthed ‘what’ from him, saying ‘screw it’ in her mind and dropping the wrap she wore over her bathing suit, walking to the private beach. 

As she turned around, Jungkook’s jaw dropped at her gorgeous figure, watching her hips sway unintentionally as she moved. The sun made her look more radiant, something he didn’t think possible and as the water glistened on her skin, he felt the heat between his legs intensify. “Mr. Jeon? Sir?” 

Jungkook fumbled with his phone, swallowing hard and clearing his throat. “Yes, that’s fine. Do what you need to do” thank God this wasn’t a video conference, otherwise they would be able to see how flushed his cheeks were. “Is there anything else?”

“No sir. We will contact you once we have more information,” Jungkook hung up the phone promptly and looked at the time on his watch, sighing in frustration at how he lost track of time. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be working, but with his luck, of course there had been a serious issue with an account. When the four told him that he needed to take advantage of the trip and use his time purposefully, he knew they would be very upset if they found out. Hell, he was sure they already knew, but as the only person who could take care of the Jeon’s security corporation, he had to answer and field all the calls. No one had contacted either of them, but he was sure Hana was texting Jimin updates. If Jimin knew, Taehyung knew and if Taehyun knew, the oldest four knew. So it didn’t come as a surprise that after he ended the call with his associate that a text notification popped up on his phone.

RM: Seriously? The account can wait. Put your foot down and stop working. You’ve already been there for a week.

He scratched his head in frustration and slammed his computer shut, knowing Namjoon was right. Sending off a quick text to his associates, he chucked his phone on the couch and stripped his clothing to join his wife. Jungkook didn’t hate hot weather, but he wasn’t excited when the humidity slapped him in the face when he opened the french doors. He enjoyed the warmth but he hated the sticky feeling that came when the air was humid and was looking forward to the refreshing ocean water. He grimaced slightly as he jogged down to the beachfront thinking about how long Hana had been stooping in this weather, waiting for him. She loved hot weather and sunshine, but hated what the humidity did to her hair. While he was sure she enjoyed the sunlight and clear skies, she probably grumbled about the frizziness of her hair multiple times. She faced away from him in the ocean, lost in thought as she stared out at the endless sea and the other islands off in the distance, that she jumped when her husband wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder, gazing out at what she was looking at. 

“I am now” she smiled, pulling away to kiss him on the lips. “Everything okay? You’ve been pretty stressed since we got here”

“Things kinda went south with a big account and we’ve been trying to negotiate to fix it quickly.” He frowned, going over the situation in his mind. “That wasn’t the stressful part though,” he kissed her on the lips, pulling her close. She looked at him curiously but blushing at their proximity, lips near touching, noses grazing one another’s. “Knowing that I have a Goddess of a wife in front of me, looking as alluring as you do, that I couldn’t get to because of work? That was stressful” he tenderly kissed her lips in apology for wasting a week of their vacation. His grip around her waist tightened and Hana made the move to deepen their kiss, something Jungkook willingly accepted. They floated there in the water, indulging in each other's lips, ignoring the world around them, so she naturally moved to the next stage, letting her hand wander towards his swim trunks.

Jungkook tensed at the gesture, remembering showering with Hana shortly after the kidnapping and the pain her intimate areas were in. He remembered how she cried thinking her body was ugly and he felt nauseous at the bruises that littered her skin so close to her intimate areas. He broke the kiss, slightly panicked and pushed a very confused and hurt Hana away. He regretted it immediately, slightly panting from their makeout session, as he saw the look on her face. He couldn’t put his thoughts into words as he watched her face become sadder at his silence.

“I’m sorry” she apologized, pulling away and putting distance in between them. “I should’ve known that you were just taking a quick break from work. I didn’t mean to distract you from it.” She refused to look him in the eyes. She didn’t want to hurt herself any further and regretted going on this entire trip. He didn’t want her that way right now, but who’s to say he’d ever want her like that again. She worked really hard in therapy to work on healing from the trauma of the kidnapping, but the seeds of doubt were planting themselves in her heart again.

She was dirty. Used. Soiled by another man. Off putting to her husband.

Their silence grew awkward, Jungkook still silent, not able to utter what he was really thinking. Hana took this as a sign to swim back to shore and he followed her without protest, not sure what to do either. As they exited the water, they headed towards the deck in silence and toweled off, Hana wrapping hers around her body, feeling self conscious in front of her husband. He knew he had to say something or do something. He didn’t want her to apologize. It wasn’t her fault. It was his. He opened the door for her, following her and taking a deep breath.

“Hana?” He was happy that she turned around right away, a small look of hope in her eyes and he knew this was his last chance. “I’m sorry, I-” his phone’s ringtone started blaring in the room, making the both of them jump. Hana walked away crestfallen, knowing he probably had to and would take the call. Jungkook watched as she walked away up the stairs, glancing between her and the screaming phone. He huffed out a heavy sigh, knowing that the moment was gone and that it might be for the rest of the trip. He moved to answer his phone, making a point to yell at whoever was on the phone about disturbing him while he was away. He didn’t see the tears streaming down her face as she walked away from him, or how she turned the shower faucet to its hottest setting, stripping her bathing suit to only sit on the floor of the tub to weep. She didn’t know that he was downstairs yelling at his associates for disturbing him. She only knew what the darkside of her mind was whispering to her.

Hana felt awful and broken. She knew none of this was her fault but that’s what made it worse. She didn’t asked to be kidnapped or raped. She didn’t ask for another man’s hands to leave imprints of abuse that didn’t go away for weeks. She didn’t want to put her husband through the healing process of her trauma. She was helpless and her world was quickly spinning out of control. If Jungkook didn’t want her, who’s to say he wouldn’t leave her? Hana wanted so badly to convince herself that these whispers were absurd, but she couldn’t help but listen to them. It was so much easier to cave in and weep, than stay strong and convince herself that the reality of it all was different. She read somewhere that when the intimacy in a relationship no longer exists or fades, oftentimes the relationships end with it. The only thing that truly kept the tiny pieces of her broken heart together was that he kissed her today. He had followed after her today. He was sorry for being away from her... but why did he pull away?

Jungkook entered the bathroom hesitantly, quietly and slowly. He knocked twice on the door but there was no reply. As he tried his best to see through the steam, his heart ached when he heard the barely audible whimpers and sobs above the running water in the shower. As he slowly approached the shower, he saw Hana’s naked figure, curled up with her knees close to her chest, sobbing into them. He saw how badly she was shaking and weeping the closer he got to the shower, knowing he was to blame and he decided he wasn’t going to tip toe any more. He almost ripped the shower door off its hinges, but he had to get to her. He picked her up and cradled her on his lap as he sat on the shower bench. She tried to push him away and escape him, but he held her firmly in place, kissing every part of her that he could and whimpering his apologies. Still, she tried to fight him and put all her effort into leaving the glass cubicle that was filled with steam.

“Let me go!” she cried, beating his chest, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry my love. Please stop” he begged, but she didn’t listen. He didn’t want to use his actual strength on her, but started to use more and more of it the harder she fought.

“You didn’t want me then, so what makes you want me now?!” she screamed, the slap to his cheek echoed in the shower. Hana didn’t mean to do it, she lost control. Jungkook didn’t see it coming, but he deserved it.

“What do you mean?” he asked, completely ignoring her actions, now that she was still.

“I’m dirty” she whimpered, biting her lip and looking down. “You don’t want me like that anymore because I’m used” she buried her face in her hands, weeping into them as the dam overflowed once again. “That’s why you won’t sleep with me or cuddle with me or why you make people watch me all the time” she sobbed, but was surprised to suddenly feel lips on hers. Jungkook was kissing her deeply, eyes closed and holding her close. He caressed her face with one hand and a tight grip around her hip with the other. This was much more passionate than what happened in the ocean, it was desperate and apologetic. She moaned softly as his tongue traced her bottom lip and she welcomed him into her mouth. She didn’t have the energy to meet him and part of her didn’t want to get invested like she did earlier today, but it felt different and she was having a hard time fighting it. He broke the kiss and wrapped both of his hands on her ass, one on each cheek, keeping his face close to hers.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” he growled, angry that she would think of herself in that way. He wasn’t angry at her, but angry at whoever put that thought in her head and made her believe it. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again,” she gasped as he squeezed her ass hard at the end to emphasize his point, nodding to show she understood. He moved to start kissing and sucking on her neck, undoubtedly leaving marks for others to see. “I’ll never not want you. You’re mine.” he ground his hips up against her mound and she could feel how hard he was. “I’m going to show you how bad I fucking want you” she whimpered, this time in pleasure, as he stood them both up, shedding his swim trunks and capturing her lips for another deep kiss. This time, he let his hands grope her body, eager to show her how much he truly did want her. 

Jungkook pressed her against the shower wall, breaking their kiss and starting a trail towards her core. Hana could only bite her lip and let out the occasional sound of pleasure. She still had doubts, but as the pleasure increased, she lost herself in the moment. Her husband lifted each knee over his shoulders as he knelt on the tiled floor of the shower, kissing each inner thigh and looking up at her. Her face was flushed and he could see she was still unsure, so he waited for any kind of sign that she wanted to continue. As badly as he wanted to show her, she had to consent to what they were about to do. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if she felt forced into doing this. “P-please... I want you” she whimpered and he dove into her core. The sound of the shower became background noise as he licked and lapped at her mound, her own hands tangling in his hair as she became increasingly vocal about the pleasure he was giving her. He ate her away hungrily as he was starved from abstaining in this type of intimacy for so long. He alternated between teasing her clit and poking his tongue into her, fucking her with his mouth as much as possible. She felt her thighs begin to tremble, a familiar feeling in her core rising and intensifying. “I’m gonna cum!” she breathlessly cried, gripping her hands more firmly in his hair as she reached the precipice of her climax. As she cried out in release, he didn’t stop. Jungkook continued his oral ministrations with vigour, stimulating her as she became over sensitive, her hands starting to pull his face away. He gently let her knees off his shoulders, careful to watch her balance in case her legs were too weak from the pleasure. When he was sure she could stand, he rose to his own feet and kissed her once again. 

“Such a good girl. You came so hard for me didn’t you? You missed my mouth on your pussy?” she nodded breathlessly as he whispered into her ear, kissing her neck. Hana was still panting and dazed from her orgasm, but she knew her body wanted more and she knew that Jungkook wasn’t done. They didn’t have the kinkiest sex life, but to say it was vanilla was untrue. She loved it when he took total control in the bedroom, focusing on her pleasure and turning her into a total mess. He loved it when she completely submitted to him, her whimpers and moans of pleasure, occaisonally expressing praise of how good he made her feel turning him on. Jungkook loved feeling how wet Hana was still, and Hana gasped in pleasure when he ran his fingers through her folds. She was trying her best to stay standing, but she was still so sensitive from the first climax that her legs felt a little shaky. “Oh? Are your legs tired baby?” It was a rhetorical question because Jungkook immediately pulled her into his lap as he sat on the shower bench, her back pressed to his chest and her legs parted on either side of his. She could feel his hard cock pressing up against her and wanted him inside her. So she tried to grind her hips into him, but he chuckled kissing up her neck again. “Are you needy baby? Does my good girl need my cock?” she nodded, eyes closed and trying to shift her position, but he stopped her. “Not yet my love. I’m going to show you how wrong you are” a shiver ran up her spine as he trapped her arms with his own and reached one hand down to gently stroke her folds. “I want to make you cum so much that you only think of me. I’m the only one who can do this to you. You’re mine”

Hana gasped as he inserted one finger inside her, gently pumping it in and out, causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. Jungkook nibbled on her ear, neck and shoulder, occasionally giving her small kisses. He was gentle, mindful that she was sensitive, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to ramp things up. He never wanted her to feel unwanted or dirty ever again and he knew this wouldn’t fix everything, but he knew it would make a point. They had both been sexually frustrated and while for him, it turned into masturbating and going to the gym more, he didn’t realize that for Hana it was causing a downward spiral. He didn’t know that his idea of her “wanting space” were actually signs of her insecurities in their relationship, something they both worked so hard to make sure never happened. In trying to let her heal, he was really pushing her away and making it harder for her to move on. She took to the therapy well, but it was him that was the missing piece she needed to fully move on. 

“M-more. Baby please” she was fully blissed out resting her head on his shoulder, whimpering for more. He kissed her forehead and inserting a second finger inside her, fondling her breasts. Hana was fully aware that if Jungkook really wanted to, he could turn her into putty within minutes using his fingers, but it meant more to her that he was taking his time. While he had been a little more aggressive and forward when he was eating her out, he wanted to really work her up and push her over the edge, taking his time and paying attention to every part of her body. It gave her time to really feel him and melt into him, savouring the pleasure rather than indulging in it. She loved the little kisses and nips to her neck, or how he gently massaged her breast, grazing over her sensitive nipples from time to time. They continued like this, the steam dissipating from how long the shower had been running, exposing their lewd acts to the room around them. Jungkook felt the change in temperature slowly creeping in, so he moved to pump three fingers in and out of her, increasing his pace and playing with her nipples more. “JK... I-I...” he loved how her brow furrowed and she bit her lip, unable to get her words out and chasing her pleasure. He felt her angle her hips more into his hand, slightly grinding into it. 

“Just a little longer baby. Think you could be a good girl and hold it?” she nodded, wanting to please him to but also knowing that the pleasure would be that much more intense if she listened to him. “That’s right babe. Grind into my hand, let my fingers fuck you” she moaned at his words, following his directions. “I want you to cum so hard that you squirt into my hand. I wanna make you feel so good” he smirked as her core tightened around his fingers when he said that. Her legs began to tremble again and her breathing increased, indicating that she was right about to fall over. “Good girl, hold it for me okay? Don’t let go just yet” she nodded rapidly, fighting off her orgasm and listening to her husband. He didn’t make it easier on her though as he moved his hand away from her chest and rolled her sensitive bud while increasing the pace of his fingers. She tried to take deep breaths, but the feelings were becoming too much. She couldn’t articulate her current state and desperation to cum, but he knew by the sudden increases of incoherent noises that left her mouth and how her body began to shake that she was holding back and ready to cum. “Look at you baby, shaking and so ready to let go” he teased, increasing how fast he rubbed her clit, matching pace with his other hand. “Do it baby. Cum for me” he whispered, letting go of her clit and wrapping it around her body as she shook and convulsed from her orgasm. He finger fucked her through her high, holding her close to his chest and feeling the liquid rush into his hands and spill out onto the tiled floor beneath them. 

He gradually slowed down his thrusting as she panted and became completely limp in his arms. He kissed her forehead and supported her weight to bring her body under the warm shower head, the scalding temperature now gone. He gently washed her intimate areas with the luffa and body wash, setting her down for a quick moment so that he could wash his body quick. He didn’t bother getting their hair wet as he knew they would wind up in here afterwards, still not done with her. Hana was in a daze as she watched her husband quickly wash off and pick her up, wrapping her in a soft towel. He was mindful of how he patted her dry, knowing that she would be sensitive from their shower escapade, something she appreciated. While her body felt tingly and sensitive, her mind felt light and satiated, still craving for his touch and to be smothered by him.

Jungkook layed her onto their bed, pulling the sheets over them as he snuggled in close to her. He had no intentions of putting clothes back on in this moment, noting that being naked infront of each other outside of sex was just a way to be vulnerable with one another. He also didn’t want to hurt Hana with his horniness and need to show her how much he wanted her, so he cuddled up against her, letting her rest her head against his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. His heart swelled whenever she would try to snuggle closer to him or press her cheek into his chest more. Hana was on cloud nine, all previous doubts in her mind gone. Jungkook had put her pleasure before his own, had made sure that this was about her. He didn’t tiptoe around the matter or act like she would break. He acted like he used to before the kidnapping and she felt his passion and intensity towards her once again, something that she really needed to move on. Jungkook did want her and she could revel in this security. “I love you” she murmured, something they hadn’t said as often as they used to.

“And I, you” he replied, kissing her head and wrapping both arms possessively around her. “I could never see you as dirty or used Hana. You’re eternally beautiful and desirable to me.” He tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes, noses touching. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I promise never to do that again” she bit her lips in hesitation and it did sadden him. While he didn’t expect everything to be resolved, he hoped that she would still trust him and believe him. However, she lifted her pinky finger in front of his face, searching his eyes to see if he would reciprocate this intimate and personal gesture. Jungkook locked his pinky with hers and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. “Pink promise” he whispered, causing Hana to smile and initiate the kiss. He returned her kiss with as much passion as she had, moving his arms to wrap around her waist as her hands began to roam his body. He gasped into the kiss as she teasingly brushed over his own hard cock, gripping it softly in her hands. Jungkook rolled her body so that she straddled him now, her pussy sitting right on his hard cock,“H-Hana” she silenced him.

“You want me right?” he nodded his head, slightly confused as to where she was going with this. “Show me again” she pleaded, feeling the heat in her body return. “Show me how much you want me. Make me yours. Fill me up. Claim me” she whined, lightly rubbing herself against him and he gripped his hands on her hips, biting his lower lip in pleasure, eyes rolling back. “I want to feel you so deep inside that you’re the only thing I’m going to remember fucking me” at her pleas and grinds, he thrusted up in response, not quite inserting her but still applying pressure to her clit. She knew exactly what to say to turn him on, but he had to know if she was sure.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he gritted his teeth and stilled her hips. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back if you aren’t ready,” his voice was desperate, wanting so badly to consume her and lose himself in his own selfish needs, but also wanting to put his wife’s comfort at the forefront. Hana placed both hands on either side of his head and held his gaze in hers. “I want you so bad, but I’m scared I might hurt you or get carried away” he searched her eyes for any hesitancy or apprehension, but he was met with the same look he fell in love with. Hana’s eyes were truly the window to her soul and in that moment he saw nothing but love and adoration for him.

“Then don’t hold back.”

That drove him crazy and he let go of everything. He lifted her hips and entered her eagerly, bottoming out in one swift thrust of his hips. Hana forgot how big he felt and gasped when he entered her so quickly, but grateful he was giving her a moment to familiarize himself. She didn’t know that Jungkook was trying to get a grasp of his surroundings, he too forgetting how tight she felt on him. The warmth of her core was sorely missed, but it had been so long that it almost felt like his hardon was suffocating, despite being fingered before. Both of them were frozen, breathing in deeply and relishing in the physical contact that had been desperately needed. With a twitch of each of their hips, a mutual sign that they were ready to move on, they began their intense love making in the bed. She meet each of his thrusts and he let her bounce on him as well, the slapping of their skin adding to the soundtrack of their gasps and moans of pleasure as they lost themselves in their intimate act.

“Fuck me Jungkook. God, don’t stop” Hana pleaded, tears brimming her eyes at the intensity of his thrust and still wanting more of him.

“I’m going to make you feel every inch of me” he panted, emphasizing the last four words with his thrusts. “I’m going to make you cum so hard and then fill you up” she moaned at his words, grabbing her breasts in her hands and fondling them. 

He admired her body as she bounced on his lap, desire to bring her to climax even faster. He placed one hand and started rubbing circles on her clit causing her to cry out. She didn’t even have time to warn him, her legs tightening around him, stopping her movements and cumming on him. Jungkook kept going, pushing her through her orgasm relentlessly and smirking as his wife lost her self to the sensation. She trembled in his arms as he lifted her up and plopped her down on the bed, resuming his thrusts. Hana’s mind completely blanked, still riding the high of one orgasm and quickly feeling another orgasm building. While they’ve had their fair share of escapades, nothing compared to the amount of pleasure she had received in this moment. She thought of all the tension between them melting away as he brought her bliss over and over again, unsure if she’d even have the energy to be able to reciprocate this pleasure to him. Jungkook was enjoying himself as much as she was, even if he hadn’t come yet. Watching her facial expressions and feeling the way her body would tense and relax under the pleasure he was providing her was enough. However, he knew by the glazed over look in her eyes and the increasing limpness in her body that she was exhausted and would soon have to tap out. He latched on to her nipple, sucking and playing with it in his mouth as she moaned and gasped, sensitive. She trembled underneath him again, her eyes rolling back and closing as she felt another wave wash over her. Jungkook slowed his thrusts and resdted his forearms on either side of her head, kissing her as she came down.

“JK...” she whimpered, her arms weakly wrapping around his neck. She could barely open her eyes but she didn’t want to stop until he reached his high too.

“Shh... I know my love. You did so good. Such a good girl for me” he cooed in her ear, stopping his thrusts and kissing her neck, forehead and lips. “Open your eyes for me love, look at me” he cooed, pushing himself up enough to see the entirety of her face. Hana’s eyes were open but the tired look was evident and Jungkook kissed her lovingly. “Can you do one more for me?” Hana nodded her head lazily, smiling up at him. He looked so handsome this close to her. It warmed her heart to see those familiar eyes that she fell in love with. All she saw in his eyes was love for her, wanting to do whatever he could for her. He kissed her softly and pushed her body up to rest against the pillows, fluffing a few behind her to make her as comfortable as he could. Hana sighed at the treatment, letting him move her around like a doll and positioning her, watching him get on his knees, spreading her legs apart and positioning himself at her entrance again.

“Please Jungkook... Fill me. Give me a baby” she sighed, knowing that her words would turn him on and maybe bring him closer to his peak. He shuddered at her words, smirking when he thrust inside her and holding onto the head board with his other hand. That did it for him, as he began to imagine her pregnant with his child, giving him the family he’s always wanted. He focused all his energy in reaching his climax, relying on her vocal cues to assure that she was alright. Hana mumbled and moaned as he fucked her, her voice rising in pitch as he increased his pace. Jungkook was just about to reach his peak, thrusts becoming sloppier but stronger as he prepared to come. Her thighs began to twitch as well, unable to stop the orgasm as he repeatedly thrust against her g-spot. “I’m-I’m cumming!”

“Fuck!” he cried, thrusting in a final time, emptying his seed within her. “Gonna fill you so fucking good” he grunted, pumping in her a couple times. Hana wrapped her arms around him as he collapsed on her chest, the both of the exhausted and panting. When Jungkook finally regrained his grip on reality, he pulled her close and flipped them so that her body rested ontop of his, running his hands up and down her back, softening inside her. He kissed the top of her head and cradled her tired body in his, giving them both just a moment to relax before cleaning up. “I love you Hana” he whispered, running a hand through her hair and tipping her chin up to softly kiss her. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t” she snuggled into the crook of his neck and he welcomed the contact.

“I love you... Thank you” she whispered back, content and resting in his embrace. She whimpered when he pulled out, apologizing to her knowing that she was sore. She gasped when she felt Jungkook slowly and gently finger the cum that spilled out back into her core. “Babe!” she gripped his wrist tightly, trying to pull him away.

“I know, I know. You’re sensitive.” he smirked pecking her lips again and stopping his fingers. “I just didn’t want to waste it. After all, you did want me to put a baby in you” Hana flushed at Jungkook’s words, forgetting how carried away she could get when they were doing it. “You ready for a bath?” she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck knowing that he wouldn’t let her walk after their session. 

The couple cleaned up and cuddled for the rest of the day, not caring to check phones or clocks to see the time, just living in the moment with each other. That was how the rest of the week went, the couple only checking their phones in the morning at breakfast and enjoying each other’s company for the rest of the day. There was a a pride and satisfaction in Jungkook as he had to help Hana board their jet to return home, a small limp to her walk. The couple felt in tune and back to how it had always been. Hana on the other hand was tired but really happy she listened to Jimin and Taehyung. Sure the trip started off rocky, but maybe that had to happen in order for them to work through it. Hana felt like she was ready to get back to work and the regular rhythm of their lives in Bangtan.

To: The Terrible Trio Thank you. I’m glad I listened to you.

Jiminie: I know. We had someone clean your office while you were away. Did you really need that many tampons in your bathroom?

Excuse me, you do not get to dictate how many tampons my vagina needs during my time of the month!

Jiminie: Well, it was donated to various female staff bathrooms.

And why would you do that?

V: Please. After getting railed the way that you did? I’d be shocked if you didn’t come back pregnant.

Taglist: @thedarkwinterrose

#jungkook #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook #bts #bts imagines #bts fanfic #mafia!bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bangtan imagine #mafia!bangtan #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook smut

[venusjeon]

morning after

a l'aquelarre drabble

the morning after, you wake up convinced he regrets it.

♔ PAIRING: witch!jungkook x human!reader

♔ GENRE: magic au, angst, humour, FLUFF

♔ WORD COUNT: 0.8k

♔ WARNINGS: mentions of sex, swearing, a bit of anxiety, making out

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: i don't know why this has taken so long given how short and simple it is, but here's a ball of fluff for you (also known as a jungkook!)

The radiance of the sun squeezing through the blinds woke you up the next morning.

It was a softer welcome into the day than jolting awake to turn off an ear-piercing fucking alarm, but nonetheless annoying, so you turned your back on the source of light to be met with that of Jungkook’s naked one.

Last night hadn’t been a dream, huh?

You smiled against the pillow at each memory. Dancing closely at the party, holding hands on your way back, kissing under the exploding bracket lights,  gasping against each other’s skin as you came… It had been perfect, and so was waking up next to him. Usually, you’d hurry to get dressed and out of the place of whatever guy you’d hooked up with to avoid the typical morning after awkwardness, but this time around there was none at all. No, you felt cosy enough to stay. You didn’t need to wonder why, the answer had been there for weeks. Because I love him.

But, in silence apart from the light breathing of both, seconds passed. And more seconds. And more, and more. And suddenly you feared he regretted it. Not the sex, which was undeniably bomb, but the fact that he’d had it with you. A girl who just happened upon his shop. It was a miracle he hadn’t realised yet there was nothing really to you, but what if he’d needed to fuck in order to work it out? You knew Jungkook wasn’t the type who’d ditch a girl after getting in her pants, but you couldn’t blame him if he didn’t know that instead of love, all the feelings that had been brewing inside him since you met translated into a lust that could be solved with a night of passion.

You began to contemplate leaving. It would make things easier if he indeed had no feelings for you; spare him the trouble of having to kick you out and make it clear that he didn’t want to date you... For the first time, you’d leave a guy’s place brokenhearted.

By Jungkook’s yawn and stretching at the other side of the bed, turns out your plan was thwarted.

Should you pretend to be asleep? You considered it in the short time it took him to turn over, but decided against delaying the blow and to get it over with as soon as possible. No need to prolong the apprehension.

Then, as his eyes fluttered open and the first thing he saw was yours, a soft smile stretched his lips still sore from your lovely abuse of them the night before, and it became ever so clear that of course this boy was in love with you. How could you doubt it? Idiot.

“Hi,” he whispered with a raspy voice you wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“Good morning.”

Jungkook’s hand shyly sought yours and held it between your bodies, caressing it gently as though it were precious and delicate—hysterical, given the force with which he’d non-stop thrust into you hours ago, but you kept that to yourself. With the passing of minutes in a comfortable silence, your eyelids became heavy, as Yoongi’s did when petted. If humans could purr, rest assured you would. Once your eyes completely shut, Jungkook took the chance to get you off guard and leaned in to kiss your cheek, making you smile.

“Sneaking up on me, you witch?”

He chuckled, “You do bite.”

Before he could get away, you buried your fingers in his silky locks and lightly pushed the back of his head close, guiding his lips to yours to bite them not too hard, but enough to rile Jungkook up, tempt him to kiss you back.

And there was the heat again. You felt it both inside, igniting each nerve in your core, and outside, as his hot breath mingled with your own. While you wondered whether it was the nearest you’d ever get to feeling magic, he was sure the addiction that had once corrupted him fell embarrassingly short of it.

Anyone would think you’d bewitched him but Jungkook didn’t care, wasn’t ashamed, gave in willingly to the effect you had on him. He wanted you to come to his shop every day and to kiss you deep as he now was. Instinctively, your legs spread and wrapped tightly around his bare torso, and Jungkook took the hint to climb on top.

Just as he was doing it, though, the door opened with a creak. A meow followed.

Jungkook broke the kiss to sigh.

“I can’t believe him,” he muttered, getting off you and failing to kick Yoongi off the bed the second he jumped on it. “Get out.” The familiar responded with a hiss. “No, you fuck off!”

“Come on, let’s play with him a little,” you struggled to say between giggles. “He’s so cute!”

“He’s a perverted cat, is what he is.” Jungkook didn’t hesitate to get up—a great sight, given he was naked—and drag Yoongi out to the living room, despite his attempt to cling to the sheets by the claws. Closing the door behind him, Jungkook rushed back to the bed and on top of you. “Besides,” he whispered in a low voice that gave you goosebumps, “I want to play with you alone.”

#bts au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bangtan imagine #bts fic #jeon jungkook scenarios #bangtan #bts x you #bts fluff #bts magic au #jeongguk

[alphabetboyluvr]

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud. 

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed. 

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail. 

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung. 

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?" 

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too. 

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to.  Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up." 

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips. 

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer. 

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole. 

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes. 

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before. 

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with. 

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck. 

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #college!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #college au

[honey-boyyoongi]

Pairing ➪ Reader x Yoongi||Part 54//??

Word count ➪ 1.5k

Warnings ➪ it’s not beta-ed; any mistakes are mine; mentions of self harm; mentions of scars; if you're name is crossed out it's because I'm unable to tag you;

Summary ➪ Min Yoongi, is a simple man. He likes his coffee black and iced, he enjoys his job, and he loves his baby girl. But what happens when the new neighbor, quite literally, drops into his life?

A/n: Wooooow it’s been a bit huh. First off, I narrowly missed posting this on Father’s Day, but oh well, belated works as well lol. Second off I’m sorry for not posting consistently. Thank you to everyone who read my fic while I was gone 💕. Sorry for throwing y’all back into this a little sad lol. As always any feedback is appreciated, and if you want to be added to the tag list please let me know.

P.S. I updated WWDITS!

Previous Next

-

Minji laid on her unmade hotel bed, numb. The last 12 hours had felt unreal. She had a daughter, a beautiful daughter, that was all Yoongi with hints of her brother. She could feel flickers of life bloom in her chest when Mrs. Min talked about the toddler. It almost made Minji regret fleeing, almost. 

Minji forced herself out of the plush bed, stripping herself of her clothes down to her birthday suit. She stood in front of the mirror, examining herself; every mole, scar, stretch mark, and at the center of it all was the C-section scar from the child’s birth. Most days Minji could forget the long pink scar that decorated her lower belly. Sometimes the pain that comes from it will pull her from the fog she’s been sinking herself in. She dragged her index finger lightly across, remembering the child’s birth. 

Yoongi had freaked out that morning, Minji had gone into early labor a week before she was scheduled for her C-section. Yoongi had arranged and rearranged her maternity bag weeks in advance, making sure he kept the child’s belongings in a separate diaper bag. He double, triple, quadruple checked that they had the correct paperwork to check Minji in with no issues. Yoongi was on the phone with her doctor, informing her of the early labor, while Minji floated through his apartment. She could feel the child moving around, just as desperate as she to leave its confines. 

Yoongi tried his best to settle their nerves while they drove to their hospital, he guided Minji through the breathing exercises they learned at birthing classes. She remembered doing the bare minimum to ease the sharp pain traveling across her lower body. Minji felt that she deserved to feel the pain enveloping her. She held off until her doctor sedated her for her C-section. 

Minji watched as the tub she laid in filled to a less than ideal amount. The steaming water was stinging the skin it enveloped, and she sighed in relief. She allowed her body to relax, washing away the tension that had built up. 

Minji walked into the Min home, taking in the room that once gave her comfort. The hallway right at the entrance that was once lined with pictures of Yoongi, were now taken over by pictures of the child. No longer was her former lover’s story up for her to reread. The comfy dark gray sectional was still in its corner, and the rocking chair where she informed the Min elders of her pregnancy was occupied by an obscenely large stuffed bear. She could hear father Min humming along to the song playing from his ‘Alexa’, and their kettle whistling. Mother Min was going forward with the pleasantries, ‘You look great’, ‘I missed you’, ‘why did you leave’, ‘do you have a boyfriend’, ‘do you want tea’, ‘do you want to see pictures of Hani’? It was overwhelming.

Minji nodded through the simple small talk, allowing the Min elders to talk about their lives within the last four years. They’d spent 3 hours on Mrs. Min’s community center stories, and if it hadn’t been for a neighbor stopping by, she’d still be speaking about them. She learned that both Mins’ had technically retired, but Mr. Min was still running his shop. While Mrs. Min would take clients once in a blue moon for events. While the trio ate lunch together, Minji caught herself tearing up. She had missed this feeling of belonging that enveloped her at the Min home. Mrs. Min kept her plate full, and Mr. Min made sure to pack up leftovers for her to eat at her hotel. 

After cleaning up, Mrs. Min brought out the child’s pictures. Minji was reading the short story of the child’s life, and she was conflicted. She watched as the child took her first steps towards Yoongi. There he was at every little song learned, art piece being made, movie watched, and word spoken. It never looked like there was a missing piece. There was no place left for her. Minji held back a sob that had built itself as she learned more about the child’s life. So far she had learned that the child liked pink, but hated yellow. She loved mozzarella sticks, cheerios, and watermelon juice. Tiana was her current favorite princess, while Moana sits at a very close second. The Mins’ practically glowed talking about the girl. 

Minji stared at the ceiling above, feeling droplets falling on the sides of her face, too numb to care if they’re coming from her or from her bath. Her throat became dry, and it became harder to swallow. Too tired to fight, she allows the sobs that she pushed down, rise once again. Her cries echo across the walls, somehow adding more layers to her misery. 

Mrs. Min wasted no time speaking about Yoongi. ‘I never liked her from the beginning,’ she said, and ‘That Jeon boy was trouble’, while she doubted his judgment of character. The way she recounted the first meeting was odd; ‘She was too friendly towards Yoongi’, she said. While Mr. Min would add that he liked how friendly the babysitter was. Mrs. Min didn’t like that she acted like a hostess when they had brunch. Mr. Min liked that she was helping Yoongi, as there was a large amount of food. Mrs. Min was not fond of the child being so close to the babysitter, and Yoongi not correcting her. Mr. Min was ecstatic that his granddaughter was comfortable with someone new. It went on like that for the rest of the talk, for every dislike Mother Min had, Father Min had a counter like. By the end she was visibly frustrated. 

Mrs. Min looked at Mr. Min with dark eyes, ‘Why are you defending her’, she demanded. Mr. Min sighed, ‘This conversation isn’t about the babysitter, it’s about Minji wanting to see her daughter.’ 

‘She deserves to know what kind of person our son has left our granddaughter with’, she sneered. 

Mr. Min grunted, ‘Yoongi isn’t completely hopeless, he’s very strict with Haneul’s care.’

Mrs. Min scoffed, offended that her husband wasn’t agreeing with her. Minji was confused, if this person was so horrible as Mother Min said, then why is Yoongi still allowing his child to still be in her care. Who was this person and why was she causing such a rift? Mr. Min stood from his chair, excusing himself, but not before telling Minji that he hopes she’s here for the right reasons. Minji tensed in her seat, she wondered if he knew that Mrs. Min had been reaching out to reunite her with his grandchild. 

Mother Min waited until her husband had left the kitchen to speak once again, she asked Minji to please see the child. She went on, and on about how the baby asked for her momma. ‘Any time we’re out and we see a mother and daughter she asks me where her momma is. I always tell her you were sick, but are working on getting better. I tell her you miss her, and want to see her. Hani wants you here Minji.’ 

Minji teared up, she didn’t know that her baby was asking for her. She had always felt like the baby would be better without her, Minji was aware of the baggage she carried, and she had started facing it little by little with her therapist. But they could never broach the topic of the baby, it opened a can of worms Minji wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with just yet. Mom told her to fight for her child, she had rights, and she should fight for them. She assured Minji that she’d support her through it, even offering for them to stay in their home while she had custody of the baby. 

Minji rubbed a scar lightening cream on her lower stomach. She climbed into bed holding her phone, with a new chat opened. She stared at the screen until it darkened, shoving it under the cold hotel pillow to keep it out of mind. Minji laid in darkness, allowing herself to get lost, and leave her body. 

Minji watched as the head nurse placed the baby in her chest. It didn’t look like a baby, and smelled like blood and something else she can’t remember. She couldn’t remember the inbetween, next thing she woke up to was a crying Yoongi holding a pink blanket with a tuft of black hair. Minji had left 48 hours after giving birth. Yoongi had begged her to stay longer, ‘I just witnessed your organs on a tray next to you, I think you should stay a bit longer Min.’ Minji refused. She promised Yoongi she’d take care of herself. As she got the last of her things she voiced her goodby, and her well wishes. A week later Minji was in her new apartment, with her new roommate, starting her new life. 

Minji had a lot of regrets in her life, but as she laid in her bed, she decided this was not going to be one of them. She reopened the chat she had closed. Once she was satisfied, Minji readjusted herself into her bed, hoping everything will be worth it

____________________________________________________________________________

02:37 Unknown

Hi Yoongi. Your mom gave me your new number.

I want to see my daughter.

Tag List: @unicornbabylover @halesandy @supernoonanyc @aianloveseven @hannahdinse8 @lyndseygoregasmxo @aunoiire @brbkpop @nochuwastaken @tinyoonsblog @borahae-reads @jinscharms @phenomenalgirl9 @yoongiigolden @girlwithluv0613 @yaboiithewreck @mint--yoongs @ysljoon @hyunjingin @yu-justme @damn-u-min-yoongi @lovelytaes-blog @so-da-1 @cruelsummer-s @seolaquotes @lovelgirl22 @dreamamubarak @leanimal90 @atinymonbebestay @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @jaiuneamesolitaiire @proudbtsstanfightmebeach

Fic Masterlist

#bts #bts imagines #bts fics #bts non idol au #bts social media au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts smau #yoongi #bts angst #bts single dad au #bts x reader #reader x yoongi #fic: oh baby #bts text #bts scenarios #bangtan #bangtan fic #bangtan imagine #bangtan fanfic #bangtan non idol au #bangtan single dad au #bangtan social media au #bangtan sm au #bangtan angst #bangtan fluff #bangtan scenarios #bangtan fake texts

[abloomingperiod]

enough | kim seokjin

"god, you're annoying."

it's the first thing seokjin hears as you make your way to the car.

by the time you find his face under the black cap, you remind yourself to buy him more of these. you absolutely love the black cap and white tee look on him.

and he knows it, which is probably why the little shit is wearing it right now.

"happy to see you too, wife." he responds. he's got the smuggest expression on, which only gets worse as he notices the way your lips curl upwards after his response.

it's late at night, and even though seokjin just got back from his own tight schedule, he still insisted on taking you home.

"you should be laying in bed by now", you interjected through the phone. "without my hardworking wife? not happening", he shot back.

to say you don't like his mannerisms and ways to show how much he cares, is a lie.

and he knows that, because every time he pulls something like that, you can't hide the smile smeared on your lips.

because that's the effect seokjin has. and you don't event try and deny that.

as you sit on the passenger seat and let out a deep sigh, he watches your eyes close. when they reopen and find his, he shoots a cheeky peck at you, his right hand finding your thigh and softly caressing it.

"tough day?", he asks, to which you slowly nod, "like the freaking trenches", you sigh.

his hand reach for yours and kiss the back of it. "don't worry, i got you now", he says whilst restarting the car. you smile at his words, and caress his hand back.

"i need my bed to get me."

"rude of you to put your bed before your husband, but i'll let it slide 'cause you look like a mess."

"oh and I'M the rude one?" you interject and playfully hit his chest. god, his broad chest.

focus. you're too tired.

"let's just go, i can't look at this building anymore."

"as you wish, ma'am." he gives your thigh one last light squeeze and starts driving home.

as you guys keep making small talk about your day and updating each other about your work's latest gossips, you can't stop but notice the way seokjin keeps looking at your face every time you stay silent.

"are you gonna be offended if i fall asleep?" You question him.

he lets out a small chuckle. "the plan was to get you home, wash those pretty legs, massage your shoulders and put you to bed, but since you don't want it, suit yourself."

"well, i didn't know that was the plan." you playfully respond, your eyes opening more then an inch for the first time in a few minutes.

"some people like to call it a surprise, have you heard about it?"

"if it's every week and a half, it's no longer a surprise."

"woah, are you really complaining about being constantly treated well? really?" he scoffs and giggles, faking being offended by your words.

you smile at him. one thing you can always count on, is seokjin's ability to make every moment you have together feel lightweight - even if your shoulders, back and eyes insist on being heavy.

"sorry, sorry... please punish me." you mock, and the look on jin's face is worth every sore muscle in your body fighting against the urge to rest against your seat. his eyes are wider than ever as he reaches yours, and his mouth, completely shut. "i'm just messing with you." you playfully respond.

he looks back to the road, and lets out a soft, small chuckle. "well that's too bad", and you hit his chest for the second time - which, again, doesn't help your case.

god, you feel lucky.

after a few seconds of comfortable silence, you say:

"you really don't have to do this", you return to your first subject of the night. "the company pays for my transportation, you know that."

"ah, you always say that, y/n", he looks at you in a rather annoyed gaze. you wish you could complain about it, but he is right. you do always say that. "you think i would do it if i didn't want to? you know me better than this." he says. even though his words might seem rough, his tone is reassuring, and rather loving.

as he parks your car in the building garage, you notice his quick pace as he unbuckles and makes his way out of the car until he stops at your door, opening it and reaching for your hand. you take it with the biggest grin ever, and start walking over to your apartment. then he adds, "besides, it's a 20 minute trip. if i can't pull my ass up and bring my wife home from work with a 20 minute trip, I shouldn't even be married."

for a few seconds, his broad shoulders standing in front of you along with his words make you rethink whether or not you were joking when you talked about being punished.

as you enter the elevator and its doors closes, he reaches for your waist and pulls you close by his side, plump lips resting a light peck on your cheek. "i'll always come and get you, got it?", he asks.

you rest your head on his shoulder, not being able to maintain with your prideful posture after his words.

"got it", you repeat, and return the kiss on the new found pillow under your head.

after a few seconds, you notice, "but i gotta say: you really suck at basic math..." he cutely furrows his brows down at you, and you clarify, "it took over an hour since you told me you were going."

at that, he smirks and retorts, "that's what surprises are for, pretty girl."

now, you're the one who furrows.

"just get inside", he adds.

when you arrive to your place, suddenly, you feel as awake as ever.

warm candles light up around the dining table and there's food waiting for you. you can't help but notice the wine you love, side by side with a few white roses decorating the table. there's soft music playing in the background, and the soft, warm voice of your husband saying "i'm sure this counts as a surprise, though" behind you.

"...you didn't."

"i did."

"you- honey, i... baby??? you didn't have to- i..." you look at him with the biggest, loveliest eyes ever, and seokjin is pretty sure he forgot his own name for a few seconds right there.

"ah, come on, this is nothing! don't act like this is the best i've done to this day!" he complains with that trademark loud tone of his.

next thing he knows and feels is you jumping onto his arms, your asses being saved from the ground only thanks to your husband's strong torso. "woah! easy, tiger. we gotta eat first", a light laugh leaving his throat.

before your eyes meet, seokjin expects anything else. an annoyed look, a light hit coming to his chest one more time. hell, even a mean joke about the whole thing.

but what he doesn't expect is the absolute and utter love he finds looking directly at him.

"kim seokjin."

"please, this is just dinner... really it's nothing there's no reason for that it's not like a fancy restaurant or anythi- i didn't have the time to set everything for a restaurant by the way and you seemed very tired and I know for a fact you wouldn't wanna go ou-"

he keeps going on and on about everything he can find to downplay his actions to you. because that's a curious paradox of seokjin: he's got the confidence of a king - until he finds your big, round eyes looking at him like that; like he's the only thing existent in the world.

and you shut him up in his favorite way. your lips touch his, your hands hold his jaw and a tiny bit of his hair, and you kiss him, you kiss him and you kiss him like it's your first kiss all over again.

"this is everything", you peck his lips again, "this is great", then you peck his nose, "i don't care about a fancy restaurant, i love this", and you finish landing one on both cheeks.

"don't lie to me, you love to go out." he tries to argue, but though his eyes are closed, and you feel his arms going up and down your waist.

he is just as whipped as you are.

"i love being with you. regardless of place." you say as you take off his cap and slowly caress his hair, ear and stop on the back of his neck, his eyes fluttering open and lips reaching for your cheek. "plus, you have the social skills of a cockroach."

you regret immediately. your husband lets out the loudest groan you've heard in a while and you can't help but hide you face in his chest before he tries and dramatically push you away.

but he doesn't.

he doesn't even try.

he doesn't move an inch away from you.

he laughs.

he laughs and kisses the top of your head, a fun, yet loving "you're so annoying" leaving his throat as he walks you both to the table. "i was gonna ask for a kiss for all this, but now, i don't think that'll be enough."

he motions you to your seat, and places both hands on your shoulders, slowly massaging them like he promised earlier.

"mhm, i wonder what could be enough..." you mumble, eyes closed and limbs relaxing against his fingers.

"from you? i don't think i'll ever get enough." he responds, and even though he says it as a cheeky pick up line, you can't help but bite the smile growing on your lips.

he finishes his quick massage with a soft peck on your shoulder blades, and stops his face right next to yours, lips projected and waiting for a peck.

but you kiss him like you miss him. like he's been away for ages, like you just found him after searching and searching, and your hands hold his round cheeks close.

because you, too, can never get enough of him.

and you can't imagine a life where you will.

you pull away, and he's already grinning, and you whisper, "you spoil me too much".

to which seokjin chuckles, because he couldn't disagree more.

to him, you deserve every single bit of love, romance, cheesiness and surprises the world and its entire humanity can give.

and that's why, he simply responds, as he sits down in front of you,

"it's been less than a year." hands finding yours and caressing your knuckles. "you haven't seen nothing yet, wife."

#OOF #WHEN I SAY HE'S THE BIGGEST HUSBAND OUT OF THOSE 7 #i mean i know i just made this up but hear me out he 100% is like that i Know that #kim seokjin #kim seokjin imagine #seokjin imagina #jin imagine #jin bts #kim seokjin bts imagine #kim seokjin established relationship au #kim seokjin bts #bts imagine #bangtan imagine

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(12).° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ

🪩 Miracle Of The Season | Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader | OneShot | @cybrsan

🪩 There’s Only Me When There’s You | Jungkook x Reader | OneShot | @koostattoos

🪩 PRINCESS TREATMENT | JK X Reader | Series | @2hightocare

🪩 best friends..? | best friend!Jungkook x fem!reader | Series | @just4koo

🪩 Home for the Holidays | jungkook x f. reader | OneShot | @jjungkookislife

🪩 Closer To You | Rich, spoilt brat!Jeongguk X Doctor! Reader | OneShot | @back2bluesidex

🪩 First type of Soul Mate: The Soul Crossing Mate | Prince!Jungkook X Reader | @beautifulfuckup99

🪩 What he wants, he gets | Jeon Jungkook x Reader (idol au) | OneShot | @wildestdreamsblog

🪩 Debut | sunbaenim!JK X Reader | OneShot | @yankpop

🪩 Cruel Beast | idol yandere Jungkook x Idol Y/n | OneShot | @kangmoon27

🪩 PREDESTINED | Mortal/commer jk x goddess reader | OneShot | @keen-li

🪩 ＤＥＡＴＨ | Yandere! Dark! Android! Jeon Jungkook x Widower! Fem! Reader | @pynkgothicka

🪩 Daddy Daycare | Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader | Series | @bunnyhugs77

🪩 Yours Truly | popular jungkook x tsundere f reader | @solemnreads

🪩 Cherry Flavored | Biker!JK X Reader | OneShot | @jungkookstatts

🪩 Oath | JK X Reader | Mafia AU | Series | @bangtan-yeonghon

🪩 too young | single dad!jungkook X Reader | series | @jeonggukookies

🪩 How to Get Rid of Your Virginity | badboy!jungkook x theaternerd!reader | OneShot | @strvngeweather

🪩 Mr. Take Your Bitch | Idol!JK X Reader | OneShot | @bunnyhugs77

🪩 Focused on her | aged jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @000jeon

🪩 sorry (not sorry) | JK X Reader | OneShot | @angelguk

🪩 ALL AT ONCE | unhinged jungkook X shy oc | Series | @muniimyg

🪩 Valentine Vixen | Stripper! Reader x Rich! Jungkook | OneShot | @bunnyhugs77

#bangtan #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook smut #yoongi #seokjin #jk recommendations #jk jk #jk icons #jk x reader #jk x ck #jk x you #jk x calvin klein #bts army

[st4r-d0g]

How about something cute for Hobi’s birthday?

hey there, anon! i was absolutely completely totally unprepared for hobi's birthday, and i entirely realize after writing this ramble that i could make it into a fic- but i went into this with zero idea where i was going with it, so i hope that the long-ish ramble is good enough for you!

SO, i want you to imagine this:

hobi is absolutely FULL of love. full of happiness, he's the sunshine! and today is his birthday, so you, as his loving partner, have been working pretty hard to think of a gift for him!

but you've been blanking for the entire past week. every time you had an idea, some doubt would fill your head and you'd convince yourself that maybe there was a better option. it only hits you the night before, that maybe you can spring a surprise trip on him.

see, hobi had been expressing interest in getting a pet to raise with you. he loved his old dog, mickey, but mickey lived with his family- since he'd been living with you, he kind of missed having the presence of a cute little dog around all the time. he hadn't actually asked you if you wanted to adopt a pet with him just yet, but you were about to beat him to the punch.

the day of his birthday, you try to wake up before him. it almost works, and you two wake up pretty much at the same time. you mumble a "happy birthday" at him groggily, and the way he grins at you makes your heart flutter. no matter how long you two are together, hobi's smile never fails to do that. he's just so cute!

once the two of you have woken up a bit more, you spring the question on him. you tell him exactly what you think: you know he's been missing mickey, and you see how happy he gets when you two go to see his family and he gets to love on his dog- and then, you ask if he'd like to potentially go out to adopt a dog with you!

and he beams at you. he's so excited, he asks if you guys can get a puppy. you tell him it's up to him, whoever at the local shelter jumps out at him will be coming home with you guys. on the drive to the animal shelter, he's almost like a kid, giggling and telling you how excited he is.

the two of you end up with what looks to be a spaniel puppy, that hobi is absolutely ecstatic to take care of with you. he's beyond happy, and couldn't be more satisfied with the events of his birthday. he'd say he loves you so much, thanking you for making the day so special.

#hobi imagine #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok imagine #hobi fluff #hoseok fluff #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #bts fluff #bangtan fluff

[ctrlhope]

Butterfly (m)

synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.

j.jungkook x f.reader

୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k

୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content

୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33

୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.

Him.

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.

What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.

Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.

You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!

Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.

Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.

“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.

“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.

One he had been planning for awhile.

He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.

You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.

You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.

Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.

“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?

You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.

He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.

Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.

It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.

Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–

Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?

Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.

Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.

Shit. Shit!

You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.

Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.

Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.

Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.

If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.

It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.

Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.

You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.

Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.

And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.

Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.

Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.

Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.

You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.

Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.

Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.

It’s almost easier that way.

“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.

Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.

He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?

He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.

The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.

Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.

Wow, you actually surprised him.

“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.

You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.

He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.

Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.

You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.

Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.

He really could kill you if he wanted to.

You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.

It scares you more to know that it's the latter.

“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”

He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.

Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.

Shit, maybe you already have, huh?

Good.

He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.

Because you would know it’s what he wants.

“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.

You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.

The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.

God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.

But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.

“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”

His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.

“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.

He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”

A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.

“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.

You break.

“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.

Beg for him. Want him.

His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.

You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.

“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.

His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.

“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.

“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.

Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.

“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.

“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”

You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.

Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.

“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”

His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.

“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.

You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.

Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.

He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.

It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.

He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.

Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.

He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.

“Mine.”

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut

[gggukniverse]

take me down slow | jjk

title: take me down slow

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: m, smut, established relationship au

summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.

warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.

wordcount: 2.2k

note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷

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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.

jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.

he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.

but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.

you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.

you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.

a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.

“baby.” you whisper in his ear.

“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.

“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.

that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.

“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.

“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.

“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.

“kook.. so horny..”

“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.

“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.

“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.

“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.

“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.

“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”

“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.

“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.

“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.

you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”

“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.

“i love you.”

“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.

you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.

“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.

“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.

“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”

you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.

“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”

“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.

“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.

“yes, need your cock baby.”

“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.

“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.

“so wet.” he mumbles.

you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.

“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.

“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”

you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.

“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.

“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.

“mh... yeah?” asshole.

“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.

“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”

but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.

“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.

you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.

hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.

“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.

“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”

“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.

“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”

“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.

“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.

“that’s not my name, babe.”

oh fuck.

“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.

“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.

“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”

“gonna cum?” he hums.

“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.

“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”

“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.

“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.

“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”

“cum for me, baby.”

your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.

“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.

“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.

“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.

“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.

“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.

you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.

“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.

“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.

“missed your taste.”

“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.

“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.

“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”

“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.

“baby.”

you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”

you smile. “i missed you too.”

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A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐

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