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sluttywoozi · 18 days

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A New Rhythm | suga x f!reader x woozi

Yoongi has a soft spot for his protege, Jihoon, but you never thought it would extend to sharing you. Not until he tells you Jihoon is a virgin and asks if you'd like the be the one to change that.

You can't say you're opposed to the idea.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~7.8k | Pairing: myg x f!reader x ljh | Genre: smut

Warnings: dom!yoongi, virgin!jihoon, mentor!yoongi, yoongi tells jihoon what to do and jihoon listens like the good boy he is (most of the time), mentions of f. masturbation, oral f. rec., spitting, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, piv sex with a condom, restraining, throat holding, piv sex without a condom, oral m. rec., deepthroating, cum swallowing, creampie, plsplspls inbox if i missed anything!

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, same age as yoongi, referred to with fem pronouns/descriptors (she/her, girlfriend), has an iud, wap

You think you’re losing your mind.

That’s the only possible explanation as to why you’re hovering outside of Yoongi’s home studio at four in the morning, arguing with yourself about whether or not you should knock on the door.

He’s been in there for hours, didn’t even come to bed last night, which might explain the plethora of dreams you had. They’re what woke you up, and the absence of Yoongi is what brought you out from under the warm covers and into the chilly night air.

Yoongi’s studio is a small building in your backyard, with no windows and perfect acoustics. He had it built last year, when he finally got tired of going in and out of the city at all hours to work, and he even gave you free reign of the exterior. Now that the garden is blooming and the stones leading to the door have settled into the ground, it really feels like part of your home.

Or it does in the daylight, anyway.

You’ve never come out here at night before, because you’ve never had a need to. You know Yoongi will come inside when he’s finished working so you usually leave him to it, usually try not to interrupt him, but tonight, something is different.

Tonight, you need him.

Desperately.

It’s not like he’s neglecting you, it’s just that he’s been working on a personal project so a lot of his time is spent in the studio, and when he finally calls it a day, all he wants to do is eat and collapse into your arms. You can take care of yourself, quite well, in fact, but nothing beats Yoongi’s touch, nothing.

Every dream you had in your fitful five hours of rest was filled with him; his hands on your body, his mouth between your legs, his cock deep inside of you. It all felt hazy and rose-colored but somehow so real, and when you woke to an empty bed, it was almost heartbreaking.

And it doesn’t help that it’s been ten days since he last fucked you, not that you’ve been counting…

You’d go back to bed if you could, but you already tried to satisfy your craving for him and all that did was leave you wet and wanting him even more, which is why you only feel a little bit guilty when your hand raises and raps twice on the wood in front of you.

It takes a few seconds for the door to open, and when it does, your eyes grow wide and your fingers fly to the hem of your nightie, your suddenly freezing legs reminding you just how short it is.

If it were Yoongi, you wouldn’t care, you’d probably even hike it up a little bit more, but it’s not Yoongi.

It’s Jihoon, your boyfriend’s protege.

“Um,” Jihoon starts, his eyes trailing over your exposed body before snapping back up to your face, a flush reddening the skin of his neck and ears. “Yoongi’s in the middle of a recording session so he didn’t hear the door. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah, um, everything’s fine,” you stammer, because what the hell else can you do?

It’s not like you can admit to someone who’s not your boyfriend that you’re dizzy with desire, especially not when that someone is your boyfriend’s adorable mentee.

Jihoon is barely 27, but he’s been producing since he was in his teens. Yoongi kept an eye on his career for a while and eventually decided to take him under his wing when he noticed he wasn’t advancing in the field like he deserved to be. They’ve been working together for a little under a year now, and Jihoon has become a regular fixture at your house.

You include him in your meals, in your game nights, and even in your karaoke, though he effortlessly outsings you both every single time.

But that doesn’t mean you can tell him you’re here because you need to get fucked.

If Yoongi were the one to answer the door, you wouldn’t have needed to speak, he would have seen that shine to your eyes and known immediately what you needed. You didn’t even know Jihoon was here or you wouldn’t have knocked at all.

Now here you are staring at each other, Jihoon’s blush traveling down under his collar as you shiver in your nightdress, unable to think of even one viable explanation as to why you’re up at four in the morning.

“Babe? What are you doing out there? It’s cold as fuck,” Yoongi appears behind Jihoon, his brows furrowed and his gaze bewildered.

He takes one good look at you and that’s it. He knows.

You can tell by the smirk that’s quirking one side of his mouth up and the heat that flashes in his tired eyes, the sight of both making you bite your lip and twist your fingers in the hem of your nightie.

“We’re gonna take a break, Jihoon. Let’s all go up to the house for a bit, yeah?” Yoongi proposes, though you know it was more of an order than an offer.

You turn mechanically and force one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the fact that you can feel two sets of eyes on you instead of one.

That’s the theme of the night, apparently, as you find yourself making tea for three, still clad in your pajamas. You would have gone to get a robe but Yoongi caught your hand before you left and asked for some oolong, saying that it’s never as good when he makes it.

While the tea is steeping, you sit on Yoongi’s right side, Jihoon on his left, and try to keep from squirming at the feeling of the cold wooden chair against your hot center. You didn’t bother to put on underwear, sure that Yoongi would just fuck you right there in his studio, and you’re positive he would have, if Jihoon wasn’t there.

But he was, he is, and you have no idea what Yoongi’s game is but you know it’s starting to make you feel a bit crazy, like your skin is too tight for your bones and your heart is too big for your chest.

Then he speaks, and all the blood in your body reaches its boiling point.

“Jihoon was just telling me that he feels like he can’t write sex into his songs because he’s never had it before. Why don’t we help him out with that?”

Jihoon collapses into himself, groaning and cursing, his face buried in his arms where they rest on the table, his muscles strained with tension and his skin bright red.

Yoongi just smiles serenely and looks over to you, raising an eyebrow and lifting his chin like he’s challenging you.

You can’t respond yet, not with the ringing in your ears and the images in your mind, flashbulb memories of how long Jihoon’s fingers are and how voraciously he eats and, worst of all, how he looks when he comes over straight from the gym, his hair still damp from the shower and his veins still popping from the workout.

All things you’ve thought about innocuously, no real intention behind them, now given life, meaning, by Yoongi’s words.

You tilt your head at him, trying to figure out if this is a test, but you don’t see any hint of deception in his eyes. All you see is your boyfriend of four years, wanting to bring someone into the bed you share, wanting to teach someone what it means to give and take pleasure.

No, not just someone, but Jihoon, specifically.

He has a soft spot for the kid and that’s obvious, but you never expected it to extend to sharing you.

However, you’re not… opposed… to the idea.

If anything, you feel yourself get just a bit hotter, just a bit wetter, imagining the both of them in your bedroom.

You know Yoongi can tell how you’re feeling, you’ve never been able to hide a thing from him, and when that satisfied smile stretches his lips, you give up and give in.

“What are your rules?” You ask softly, your eyes darting to Jihoon when he snaps his head up and stares at you, wide eyed and open mouthed.

“He has to wear a condom,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, before continuing, “Other than that, I have none. What about you?”

You didn’t expect him to turn the question around on you, but you’re grateful he did.

“Same as you,” you respond, before looking to Jihoon. “What are your thoughts?”

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and Yoongi, before he answers, “I - I don’t know. I’m embarrassed, and a little bit annoyed,” he levels a glare at Yoongi. “But I’m… I mean if you’re okay with it, then… then yes, I want this. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll do whatever.”

Yoongi doesn’t even pretend to care about the tea.

He just rises from his chair and extends a hand toward you, waiting for you to take it before nodding at Jihoon, expecting you to reach out to him. You hold your hand out and he grasps it, your fingers intertwining as Yoongi pulls you to the stairs. In between them, you carefully move up the steps, feeling somewhat like you’re on your way to the place of no return.

You know you can stop this at any time, but you fear you won’t want to.

You fear that once you get a taste of Jihoon, of both of them together, that’s all you’ll want.

Yoongi must know, he knows everything about you, and if he wasn’t okay with it, he wouldn’t have offered. So when you cross over the threshold and he lets go of your hand to sit in the chair occupying the corner of your room, you know that he must be anticipating that outcome, and you know that he must be alright with it.

Which makes it easier to turn to Jihoon and cup his cheeks to draw him into a kiss, one that makes him gasp against your lips before he drops a hand to your hip and starts to kiss you back.

He seems experienced enough at this, you think, his plush mouth soft against yours and his tongue tentative where it brushes along the seam of your lips. You open up for him with ease, swallowing his sounds and responding with your own soft hums to show him you’re comfortable.

Your tongue glides against his and he moans, sucking at it with gentle pulses that make your core throb, before you pull away and press a hand to his chest to stop him from following you.

“Let’s move to the bed?” You suggest, perhaps because your knees feel the slightest bit weak but mainly because you’ve been desperate to get Yoongi’s body on top of yours all night. Jihoon isn’t Yoongi, but you think he’ll feel almost as good.

Jihoon nods, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing, waiting for you to climb up and get comfortable before setting a knee on the covers.

“Take your clothes off,” Yoongi calls out from the corner. “She probably wants to see you.”

Jihoon glances over and then looks at you, raising a brow. You shrug shyly and nod, your eyes lowering to his chest as he starts to pull his sweater up. More and more pale skin is revealed, and by the time the fabric clears his head, your gaze is locked on the defining lines of his abdominals. He unties his sweats and pushes them down, stepping out of the cotton and standing before you in just his boxer briefs.

His dick is hard, pressing against the fabric, but you don’t have long to look before he settles on top of you, his elbows bracketing your head and his knees straddling your thighs. His lips find yours again and soon enough, you’re lost in him. He kisses you so attentively, adjusting to your every move, your every breath. It’s not long before you’re squirming beneath him, wanting for more.

“You’re gonna eat her out next,” Yoongi instructs, his voice distant but consuming, echoing in your mind like a looped track.

Jihoon breaks away from you, his eyes heavy lidded and his lips kiss-swollen. He sits back on his knees when you shift up onto your elbows, giving you room to pull your nightie up and off, leaving you bare from head to toe.

His eyes traverse the whole of your body, lingering on your breasts before they land between your thighs, his stare weighty, nearly tangible on you. The thought that you might be the first woman he’s seen naked in person is a heady one, enough to give you the confidence to slide your legs out from between his and spread them on the bed, showing him exactly what he’ll be working with.

His breaths come faster as he gazes at you, slowly moving down to lay on his stomach between your legs, his mouth just inches from your pussy when Yoongi says, “Spit on it.”

“What?” Jihoon questions, turning back to stare at Yoongi in confusion, missing the way you squirm at Yoongi’s instruction.

“You heard me, spit on it. She’s into it.”

“I- No, I’m not gonna fuckin- I’m not spitting on her, that’s ru-”

“Fine, if you won’t, I will,” Yoongi rolls his eyes and rises from his seat, taking a few steps to the bed and pushing at Jihoon’s shoulder when he doesn’t move out of the way.

Yoongi braces his hands on your knees and shoves them further apart, his eyes coasting up your body before they land on yours, a wry smile stretching his lips before he purses them and spits on your pussy. His saliva trails over your clit and down to your entrance, making you gasp and making your cunt clench, your hand shooting down to weave into his hair when he starts to pull back.

“See? Told you,” he murmurs to Jihoon, grasping your wrist and waiting for you to release his hair before stepping away and returning to his chair in the corner.

Your eyes find Jihoon, who looks like he’s been struck. He shakes it off and fills the space between your legs again, flat on his belly with a determined glint to his eye. You can feel his breaths as his mouth gets closer and closer to you, before finally, his tongue drags over you from cunt to clit.

He takes his time learning you, sucking at your folds and dipping into your entrance, never staying in one place for long. He’s making little sounds like he loves the taste of you, the vibrations traveling through your pussy straight to your buzzing brain, straight to the part of you that yearns to be set free.

You long to sink your fingers into his hair and drag him where you want him, take your pleasure from him like he’s a toy, but you know this is a precarious situation, and you’re not going to be the one that tips it out of balance.

So you let him explore, let him figure it out on his own, setting aside the fact that you’ve been aching for hours already. This is Jihoon’s first time, you can stand to not be greedy for once in your life.

Yoongi seems to disagree, telling Jihoon, “Find her clit and suck it, or she’ll never cum.”

You would glare at him for rushing Jihoon, you really would, but then Jihoon listens, his mouth searching until he discovers that bundle of nerves and wraps his lips around it, giving experimental sucks that quickly have your back arching and your toes curling.

“Y-you can, um, put a fing-,” You try to speak but can’t seem to get the words out, not when Jihoon’s mouth is so soft and wet and his tongue is so agile from years of playing the clarinet, the tip lapping at your clit in between pulses of his lips.

“Baby, I’ll tell him what to do, you just lay back and enjoy, okay?” Yoongi says in a soothing tone, making your eyes flicker open so you can see him. You know he wants you to answer him so you force your head to move up and down in a nod, melting into the bed when he sends you that indulgent, proud little smile.

“Jihoon, start with two fingers, she likes to feel full. Palm up,” Yoongi instructs Jihoon, his voice more distant, less affectionate now that he’s not talking to you.

Jihoon’s fingertips glide through your arousal, dipping into your entrance and starting to push inside. You’re still a bit stretched out from taking care of yourself earlier so there’s barely any resistance, his fingers sinking in slowly but surely.

His tongue stutters against you, a weak groan escaping him as your cunt molds to his digits. You squeeze around them just to hear that sound again, biting back a grin when the next groan is louder.

“Feels good, doesn’t she? Now imagine that around your cock,” Yoongi smirks smugly, his eyes caught on the blush rising up the back of Jihoon’s neck. “Gotta make her cum first.”

With renewed fervor, Jihoon sucks at your throbbing clit, his fingers twitching inside of you but not moving yet.

“Now you’re gonna find her g-spot. Curl your fingers and tap until you feel a different texture, you’ll know you’ve got it when she gets wetter.”

Ever the quick study, Jihoon puts Yoongi’s words to action, his fingers crooking and rubbing along your front wall in search of the patch that can make you gush. He encounters it soon enough, grazing the erogenous zone with his fingertips and tapping into it when you gasp and clench down.

You do get wetter, just like Yoongi said, and you can’t help but move with Jihoon’s fingers as he starts to slide them in and out, the tips hooking into your sweet spot on every thrust. You should have expected him to have perfect rhythm and lithe, talented fingers just like Yoongi does, because maybe then it wouldn’t be a surprise when you feel the stirrings of heat deep in your belly.

Would it be embarrassing to cum so soon? Yoongi can get you there in five minutes flat but this is Jihoon, should you try to hold out for longer so he has more time to practice? What if he’s disappointed that you-

“Baby, stop worrying. Just cum when you want to,” Yoongi says softly, and not for the first time, you feel blessed to have a partner who knows you inside and out.

You don’t need his permission to cum but now that you have it, you can feel your climax building even faster, feel it growing, glowing inside of you as Jihoon moans into your pussy, as if he’s echoing Yoongi’s words.

That and the flawless grind of his fingertips into your g-spot are what throw you over the edge, darkness eclipsing your vision as you tumble into a pleasure so deep, you can feel it in your bones.

It races through your bloodstream, electric and razor sharp, setting all of your nerves on edge and stealing every molecule of air in your lungs. You gasp through it, clenching your fingers in the pillow beneath your head so you don’t reach down, tangle them in his hair, and hold him to you until he’s as breathless as you are.

You think you could cum again if he just keeps his tongue curled around your clit and his fingers digging into your g-spot like this. Hell, you’d probably cum even harder, get even wetter for him, even hotter.

It’s so close you can almost taste it, but he starts to pull away and you swallow down the cry of protest that rises in your throat, fighting off disappointment that you fear you don’t have a right to. Yoongi likes to go for more than one but Jihoon isn’t Yoongi, and you can’t expect him to behave the same way.

Yoongi does, evidently, because he says as if it should be obvious, “Keep going.”

“What? She already-”

“She can cum again, keep going.”

When Jihoon looks up at you for confirmation, Yoongi heaves a beleaguered sigh and ambles to the bed, placing a knee on the mattress for stability before leaning over Jihoon’s shoulder and gripping the back of his neck, pushing and holding him down.

Jihoon is more than strong enough to break free if he wants to, which makes it even sweeter when he closes his eyes and dives back into you, one of his hands scooping under your thigh to pull it up onto his shoulder. Now you’re the one holding him down, and Yoongi’s lips stretch in a satisfied smile, like Jihoon has finally done something to be proud of, before he loosens his grasp and returns to his chair.

You’ve lost some momentum in the seconds without stimulation, but you can’t escape the image of your boyfriend shoving his protege’s face into your cunt and that’s almost enough to get you right back where you were.

It helps that Jihoon seems to be insatiable now, though whether he’s desperate for you or desperate to prove himself to Yoongi, you don’t know. It doesn’t really matter either way, not with his lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue digging up under the hood to lap directly at the nerves. His fingers join in too, fucking into you harder and faster, beckoning out enough arousal that you can feel it dripping down your perineum.

The sounds are obscene, the wet suction of his mouth and the squelching of his fingers bringing heat to your cheeks. You wonder if Jihoon can hear or if your thighs are muffling the noises, part of you hoping they are and most of you hoping they aren’t.

You want him to hear what he’s doing to you, want him to know that he’s pleasing you, that his efforts are appreciated, which is why you finally decide to stop holding back.

Your hands skate down your body and delve into his hair, pulling his face even deeper into your pussy as you whimper long and loud. “There she is,” Yoongi murmurs, barely audible with your voice ringing in the air.

Jihoon groans earnestly in response, his hips twitching against the bed and his fingers spasming inside of you before they stop fucking in and out and instead start prodding your g-spot, rubbing and tapping and grinding until you lock down around them, cumming with a gush and a shout.

He doesn’t stop this time, relentless in the pursuit of pulling every last bit of bliss out of you as if he’s learned his lesson. Yoongi always says that Jihoon takes direction well, and you’re honored to experience the evidence of it yourself.

Honored and dizzy, if you’re being truthful.

Your head spins, your pussy growing sensitive and your pleasure growing sharp, almost stinging as he continues to batter your front wall with his fingertips and stab his tongue into your overworked clit.

“Jihoon,” you whine brokenly, drawing out his name and gripping his hair tighter, unsure of whether you want to push him away or pull him closer.

“Don’t stop,” Yoongi calls out, but it sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe you are, every noise in the room muted and dull compared to the roaring in your ears, the rushing of your blood in your veins as your heart races in your chest.

“Maybe you’ll make her-”

Time slows down when Jihoon grunts his assent into you, the vibration just enough to send you spiraling into a euphoria so acute, it brings tears to your eyes. Your vision whites out and you think you scream, and then you’re levitating, no longer on the bed, perhaps not even on the planet anymore.

When your soul returns to your body and you blink your watery eyes open, the first thing you see is Jihoon. He’s still between your legs but now he’s bright red, his chest heaving as he fights to breathe, your arousal covering him from his cheeks down to his sternum.

You would feel nervous about his reaction but as soon as your eyes meet his, he’s climbing up over you and pressing his swollen lips to yours, his kiss ravenous and his tongue soaked with you.

When he pulls away, you’ve got your own essence smeared all over your mouth, and you’re not even startled to feel a familiar hand in your hair. The hand tugs your head to the side and you let your eyes flutter closed, anticipating the swipe of Yoongi’s tongue over your bottom lip. He loves how you taste, even if it’s not directly from the source.

You can feel Jihoon’s eyes on you as Yoongi licks your face clean, and you wonder if he thinks he’s going to get the same treatment.

He might, honestly.

But not tonight, it seems, as Yoongi smacks a kiss onto your lips and lets go of your hair, reaching in the bedside table for the condoms you haven’t used since you got your IUD placed a few months ago.

“You didn’t blow your load, right?” Yoongi glances at Jihoon, raising an eyebrow teasingly and laughing at the way Jihoon glares and says, “No, I’m still fucking hard, thanks for asking.”

Out of loyalty to your boyfriend, you won’t point out that Yoongi actually did blow his load the first time he ever made you squirt.

“You still up for it, baby? Not too sore or sleepy?” Yoongi crouches next to you and cups your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone and gazing at you with gentle, patient eyes.

“I’m still up for it,” you smile peacefully, watching as he hands Jihoon the condom and taking the opportunity to stretch, reaching your arms up above your head and pointing your toes, a soft keening sound leaving you as you relax into the bed again.

When your eyes find Jihoon and Yoongi, both of them are staring at your tits, a dazed look on their faces that makes them appear even more alike.

Yoongi snaps out of it first, blinking rapidly and readjusting in the chair, making you notice for the first time just how hard he is.

You knew he’d have to be into the idea of watching you fuck someone else to propose this in the first place, but you didn’t expect him to be so wrought with desire. You can see it on his face now that you’re really looking at him, the passion in his shadowed eyes and the lustful clench of his jaw giving him away.

You bite back a smile and turn your gaze to Jihoon just in time to watch as he slides off the bed and pushes his underwear down. His cock pops up then hangs heavily, the head blushed red and the length wrapped in veins. He’s similar in size to Yoongi, maybe a bit thicker and slightly shorter, and you’re relieved to know both that the condom will fit and that he won’t stretch you beyond your limits.

Finally, you look at his face again, only to find him staring at you, his eyes staying locked with yours as he brings the condom packet up to his mouth and tears it open with his teeth. At first, you think he’s trying (and succeeding) to be sexy, but then you realize his hands are trembling, just a little, just enough to relay the nerves he’s kept hidden.

“I’ll put it on,” you tell him as you extend a hand and wait for him to drop the condom in your palm, beckoning him forward with your other hand until he climbs back up on the bed and settles on his knees in front of you.

Slowly, you reach out and take hold of his cock, not reacting to the stilted gasp and muted swear that escapes Jihoon though you want to coo and kiss his cheek, he’s so adorable. You pinch the tip and roll the condom on with ease, ensuring it’s snug at the base before giving his hip a squeeze and laying back.

He follows you and braces his hands on either side of your head, his eyes heavy lidded and his cheeks flushed as he leans down to kiss you. His cock drags over your thigh before you spread your legs and hitch them up on his hips, one of your hands snaking between your bodies to position him at your entrance.

Jihoon takes in a deep, shuddering breath before beginning to push forward, his eyelids fluttering and his mouth dropping open as he feels the heat of you around his cock for the first time. The condom is a foreign sensation after all these weeks of taking Yoongi bare, and the fact that it’s Jihoon inside you instead of him is even more odd, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good.

Because it does, he does, especially when you remember that it’s been ten days since you had anything but a vibrator. Jihoon is warm, and thick, and real, and best of all, he’s holding back whimpers, his eyes closed and his face screwed up in pleasure, his hips jerking into yours in little thrusts like he can’t bear to keep still.

When he bottoms out, he collapses to his elbows, leaving his chest pressed against yours and his face just inches away, every microscopic change in his expression obvious to you with him so close.

You can tell he’s steeling himself to pull out, his jaw clenching and his brow furrowing as he draws his hips back slowly, his cock leaving the warm clutch of your pussy until only the head remains. You don’t even think he’s breathing, his cheeks turning red and his face growing pained, like it feels so good, it hurts.

He slides back in and you make the mistake of squeezing down, and that’s when he stutters, “F-fuck, I can’t- ‘m sorry, I’m gonna fucking-”

His cock jerks and twitches and there’s a muted burst of warmth inside of you, one that’s contained in rubber as he tips into the abyss, his forehead dropping down to rest on your collarbone and his body shaking on top of yours.

His gasps sound more like sobs, his beautiful, diminutive cries of pleasure making you flutter around him, prolonging his orgasm until he’s hissing through clenched teeth and digging his hips into yours as if in retribution.

He starts to soften inside of you and you’re content to let him rest and recuperate, but Yoongi has other ideas.

“Get up,” he commands, making your eyes flick over to him, a glower overtaking your face when he repeats himself. “Jihoon, get up.”

Jihoon reaches down and grips the base of his cock as he withdraws from you, holding the condom in place and cringing when he fully leaves your pussy. He slips the condom off and ties a clumsy knot, tossing it in the waste basket that sits under Yoongi’s bedside table before shuffling off the bed.

He doesn’t look at you, and you wonder if he’s too embarrassed or if he thinks he’ll be met with disappointment. Maybe both, and Yoongi certainly isn’t helping the situation. You don’t know what he’s playing at, rushing Jihoon like this, being so harsh when Jihoon’s at his most vulnerable, but you don’t care for it.

“Yoongi,” you murmur lowly, a warning in your voice.

“Baby, I’m not doing this to be mean. I just want him to learn,” Yoongi placates you, rising from the chair and pointing at it. He waits for Jihoon to take a seat before making his way toward you, gripping the back of his shirt to haul it off as he walks. He sheds his sweats next, his boxers dropping with them, and when you set your eyes on his cock, they almost bulge out of your head.

You think this is the hardest you’ve ever seen him, his dick a purplish rose and his balls heavy, full. You’re speechless, wide eyed, as he climbs onto the bed and reaches for your legs. He arranges you how he wants, planting his hands on the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your body until he can get his shoulders under your knees.

One hand settles next to your head for balance and the other grips his cock, lightly smacking your pussy with it, the weeping head landing right on your swollen clit. You squirm and gasp at the feeling, your entrance clenching around nothing, pushing out more of your arousal to drip down your ass onto the bed.

He does it again, and again, and again, until you’re whimpering and clawing at him, ready to beg him to just fucking put it in already, and that’s when he guides his cock into place and slides home.

You and Yoongi moan in unison, yours more high pitched than his though both ring with relief.

Him and Jihoon don’t feel all that different but Yoongi is familiar, Yoongi is loved, Yoongi is yours, and that heightens every sensation. He stays buried in you, his gaze locked with yours, possession burning in his eyes like a wildfire.

You’re sure it’s because he gets to feel you bare and Jihoon doesn’t, and you wonder if he’s staying still for so long because he wants you to remember who you belong with. Then you feel him twitch inside of you and notice the tension on his face, and you know that’s not the case at all.

It’s that he’s inches away from doing exactly what Jihoon did, except he doesn’t have the excuse of being a virgin.

Yoongi hasn’t cum early in years, has practically become a paragon of self-control and patience, lasting long enough to get you there twice even when you first did away with the condoms. You’re almost gleeful to discover he’s so close to the edge right now, and you’re about to clamp down around him and push him even closer when his eyes harden and he mutters, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

And you try to listen, you really, really do, but you just can’t help the way your pussy responds to him, especially when he uses that voice on you.

So truly, it’s not even your fault when your walls swallow around his cock and suck him in deeper, the ragged groan he lets out only making you clench down more.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you whisper faintly, taking a deep breath and attempting to relax your inner muscles as he starts to pull out. “Don’t go,” you whimper, clinging to whatever skin you can reach, one hand wrapping around the wrist next to your head and the other flying down to grasp his hip.

You’re not strong enough to hold him in place, so you know it’s of his own volition when he stops moving, your cunt squeezing around what’s still inside, your whole body begging him not to leave.

He leans in close and narrows his eyes at you, probably trying to see if you’re playing some kind of trick on him, but you know there’s nothing in your gaze but a frantic wish to keep him inside, to finally feel him fuck you like you’ve needed for the last ten days.

His face softens into something fond and he murmurs, “Gonna give you what you need, baby.”

Then, with his eyes still on yours, he calls out, “Jihoon, c’mere.”

You hear him padding over to the bed, and you’re sure he’s just as confused as you are at his sudden involvement. Yoongi straightens up, breaking free of your hold and sitting back on his knees before gripping your hips tightly and pulling your ass into his lap, filling you with his cock and making space at the head of the bed in one rough move.

“Get on the bed, grab her hands,” Yoongi tells Jihoon, his stern voice leaving no room for questioning.

It seems Jihoon has learned his lesson by now, obeying Yoongi quickly and carefully, sliding into place behind you with his legs spread under your shoulders. His hands reach for yours and you offer them with only a little apprehension, gasping when he lifts your upper body enough for your head to rest on his thigh, your hands held against his toned stomach.

“Comfy, babe?” Yoongi asks you, waiting for you to nod before drawing his hips back until only the tip rests inside of you. He shoves forward, his pelvis smacking into your ass, a slick squelch sounding when he bottoms out.

He doesn’t give you any time to get used to it, every thrust that follows just as deep, just as vicious.

The rhythm of his cock slamming into you overtakes your heartbeat, your cunt throbbing and drooling around him as he rams into you, forcing your wetness out of your pussy and your thoughts out of your head.

Soon enough, you’re mindless with pleasure and writhing in their laps, arching into and away from the wicked bucking of Yoongi’s hips, his cock plunging into you so fast and so hard, you aren’t sure you’ll survive.

You can’t stop crying either, whining and blubbering nonsense words intercut with your boyfriend’s name, pleading for him to keep going because you’ll die if he stops but also he might kill you if he doesn’t.

“You can take it, baby,” Yoongi breathlessly assures you, his eyes lighting up with a devilish idea. “Maybe you just need something to focus on. Turn your head.”

Maybe he’s right, maybe you do just need to devote what little brain power you have left to something, so you turn your head and there it is, Jihoon’s bright red, rock hard cock.

With a desirous moan, you lean forward and drag your tongue up the side of his shaft, following one of the veins that winds around his dick like a vine. He chokes out a groan, his hands holding yours tighter when you tilt your head back and whimper, “Jihoon, please, put it in my mouth.”

There are tears streaming down your cheeks as you part your lips, laying your tongue out to entice him more. Yoongi is still fucking you, hasn’t let up for even a second, and you can feel his eyes on you as Jihoon transfers your hands to one of his and grips the base of his dick, pointing it in your direction and slowly feeding it into your mouth.

The angle is awkward but you can work with it, letting out a garbled ‘thank you’ and consciously relaxing your throat so he can slide deeper inside.

“That’s my girl, such nice manners,” Yoongi coos with a slight tone of condescension, watching as you swallow around Jihoon’s cock and fight not to choke.

“Wanna feel something amazing?” Yoongi asks Jihoon, who mutters doubtfully, “Something better than this?” and then he must nod because Yoongi says, “Put your hand on her throat. You can squeeze a little.”

Both of your hands are still gathered up in one of Jihoon’s, and you feel his free hand tentatively wrap around your neck, making you whine around him and clench around Yoongi.

“Fuck, is that my-” An avid groan cuts him off, his fingers spasming on your throat, though they don’t tighten to the point of pain.

A trickle of precum slides down your esophagus and you swallow again, your throat working around his thick cock, taking in another inch. You’re almost at the root now, close enough for your chin to brush his balls, and you’re about to get the last little bit inside when Yoongi scoops his hips on a stroke out and grinds right over your g-spot.

You squeak and jerk between them, your back arching as he starts to aim every single thrust there, battering the patch of nerves until you think you’ll cum just from this, just from his dick inside of you.

Then you feel his hand work itself between your thighs, his fingers cruel and exacting on your clit, and you have to pull off of Jihoon to gasp for air as an orgasm tears through you like a tornado, your pleasure wild, furious, devastating.

He doesn’t let up for even a minute, fucking you through it and leaning down over you to sink a hand into your hair, guiding your mouth back to Jihoon’s cock.

“Make him cum, baby.”

You bury him in your mouth again, nuzzling down until your nose brushes his skin and his cock fills your throat. He twitches and leaks, and you just know he’s close, but you don’t have the right angle to bob your head up and down, to give him any friction. All you can do is swallow and moan plaintively and hope it’ll be enough to carry him over the edge.

Your teary eyes flicker up and lock with his, and that’s what does it. His face crumples and a strangled moan forces its way out of his mouth as his cum shoots down your throat, his cock twitching, pulsing, throbbing between your lips. His grasp on your hands is so tight, it almost hurts, but the fingers on your neck never grip harder, never constrict to the point of suffocation.

Your throat convulses around him and he pulls out with a wounded sound, probably too sensitive to stay in the wet heat of your mouth any longer. His hand pets your neck and glides up to your face, wiping your tears away and cupping your cheek as Yoongi’s fingers start to swirl between your legs again.

You don’t know if you have another release left in you, but if you do, Yoongi will draw it out, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face. He’s mean that way, but so nice too, and now that all you have to focus on is the feeling of him surging in and out of you, the spark of painful bliss is familiar.

It reminds you that you’ve survived him before, and that this time won’t be any different even if you don’t feel like the same person after.

Yoongi fucks you like he’s remaking you in the shape of him, like he wants to take you down to your nuts and bolts then build you back up in a new form, one that bears his signature. It’s raw and rough and filthy, but beautiful too, which is always how he leaves you feeling when he’s had his way with you.

That’s the last thought you have before he sweeps all of them up and away with one final circle of his fingers on your sensitive, swollen clit.

Euphoria and agony battle within you, your climax excruciating but rapturous, sending you into a spiral of warring sensations that have you near delirious until finally, finally, finally, Yoongi lets himself break.

You whimper at the feeling of his cock hardening and twitching in your spent pussy but his cum flowing into you is a balm, soaking your delicate, tender walls with a warm wash of white. You breathe through the sting of overstimulation, your eyes watering again and your body shuddering between Jihoon and Yoongi.

Sometimes Yoongi stays inside after but you think he can tell you’re too wrung out, so he carefully slides out of you and lowers your legs from his shoulders, his palms gliding up and down your thighs in a soothing manner.

“Jihoon,” he says softly, his eyes still on you. “Go through that door and grab a washcloth from the closet, the softest one you can find. Get it wet with some warm water and bring it here.”

Jihoon is quick to follow Yoongi’s instruction, supporting your neck as he slips out from under you and brushing a thumb over your cheekbone before he leaves.

You hear the opening and closing of a door, then running water, then the quiet padding of feet on hardwoods. Your eyes have fluttered closed but you’re not surprised when you feel gentle hands cleaning you up, dabbing the washcloth between your legs, mindful of your sensitivity.

They fly open when you hear Yoongi say, “You can stay in the guestroom, if you want. It’s clean and ready for you.”

“You can stay in the guestroom, Jihoon is staying right here,” you assert, reaching blindly for him and clinging to his hand when you find it.

The time after losing your virginity can be fraught with emotion, and you’re not going to make Jihoon go through that alone. You also happen to feel unbearably fond of him now, and you’re itching to give him the affection he deserves after listening to Yoongi so well.

Yoongi just holds his hands up in surrender, muttering, “You’re middle spoon, then.”

As if that’s some kind of hardship.

Yoongi pulls two pairs of pajamas and a big t-shirt out of his drawer, passing one set over to Jihoon before walking over to you and carefully pulling the t-shirt over your head. He reaches into the arm holes and pulls your arms through like you can’t do it yourself, and you’d tease him if you didn’t feel so exhausted, you could pass out.

You have to get up so Yoongi can strip the comforter off the bed, and instead of putting it in the wash like he should, he just tosses it to the floor and grabs the backup from the closet. He waits for you to get under the sheets before throwing it over you, letting it float down to cover the bed and climbing in behind you.

Clothed in his borrowed pajamas, Jihoon awkwardly hovers by the side of the bed, looking unsure. You turn down his side of the comforter and reach a tired hand out, sighing contentedly when he blushes, smiles, and slides in, snuggling up against you.

Yoongi’s arm wraps around your waist and yours wraps around Jihoon’s, and the three of you sink into sleep easily, comfortably, warmly, even as the sun rises and seeps through the edges of your blackout curtains.

They’re making breakfast together and chatting about music when you limp downstairs, fresh out of the shower and starving out of your mind. You wonder if it will be awkward, but then Yoongi presses a kiss to your cheek and raises a brow at Jihoon, clapping him on the shoulder when he does the same, and that's how you know things will be just fine.

AN: would not exist without @bbychocolat jokingly saying "woozi yoongi threesome" and the help of @highvern @whipped-for-kpop-fics @wooahaeproductions and @daechwitatamic! thank you all for sharing your yoongi expertise and holding my hand throughout this journey (and it was a journey)

i've never written yoongi before!! pls tell me your thoughts i am desperate to know 💖

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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

Text

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride

PAIRING: Yoongi/Reader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated.

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—”

Your voice wavered, what were you—

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out.

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower.

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy?

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed.

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed.

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.”

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer.

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth.

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you.

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated.

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable.

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly. And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious.

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You wait until I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?”

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost.

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward.

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked.

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last.

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar.

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #update #ao3 fanfic #SX Seoul #writing wip #min yoongi #bts suga #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎

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reredaydreams · 28 days

Text

Red Lace || Masterlist

A story of when an artist falls in love with their muse.

Summary: you were at a point in life where you had no clue what you were actually doing, you were just doing things because they were just acts that people do in the path of life. Going to university, trying to get a degree, to get a good job, then live a good life, however, there wasn’t much motivation behind these acts, you felt like a lost soul. The only thing that made you feel alive, the thing that ignited a passion inside you was the doing of creating art, though due to uni, you weren’t able to indulge in it anymore. Until one evening, when you go to a live painting class, where you meet him, not knowing that he was an up and coming, anonymous painter, and you were about to become his muse.

A story where two artists, in their own perspectives, fall in love, in a type of love that felt as if their hearts were tied together, by a red lace fabric.

Paring: painter!jk x reader

Content: established relationship, romance, fluff, smut, angst, 4 year age gap, strangers to friends to lovers, he’s low key kind of obsessed with her.

Warning: this series contains mature content, 18+

A/n: Red Lace was originally meant to be a one-shot, and the first chapter is that and can be read as a stand alone. However, I really liked the relationship I established of the characters in it, wanting to Develop it further and explore their story, I created this series. This likely will be on the shorter side, and will contain sequences from their present and past

Let me know if anyone wants to be in the tag list for this series!

Tag list: @khadeeeeej , @tinnakitten , @joonsproperty , @parkinglot-nights , @lllucere , @bangtans-momma

Chapters:

1. A blissful day

2. The untying of the red fabric

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explicit-tae · 7 months

Text

Metamorphosis

An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae

Word Count: 8.669

Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,

Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had.

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now?

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”

You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).

Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.

The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.

Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.

Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company.

You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.

You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.

Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look.

The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?

You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong.

The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.

“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips.

Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.

The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery.

Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.

What?

What the fuck?

Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.

Breathe.

Why is it becoming harder to breathe?

Your throat tightens.

Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.

“You,”

Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent.

“are such a beautiful little human.”

Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?

The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes.

The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.

You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second.

You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.

“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle.

The man chuckles. “A prayer?”

“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”

You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”

Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.

“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.

The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.

“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”

You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.

“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”

You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.

This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.

“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”

This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly.

“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”

You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”

This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.

“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”

“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”

The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.

“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.

“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”

Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.

You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears.

The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual.

“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”

You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering.

“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans.

“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.

“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”

You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed.

“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”

Deal?

Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces.

“I won’t submit to you, demon.”

Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.

You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.

Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.

You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“P-Please stop!”

Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.

“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”

“N-No!”

Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”

You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.

Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.

“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”

“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him.

“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut.

Why?

Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?

“J-Jungkook…please!”

Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”

“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.

Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue.

“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”

“N-No…”

Jungkook hums. “No?”

You nod your head.

“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”

Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were.

You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds.

Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you.

Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.

This was wrong.

This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.

You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.

But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.

Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.

“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”

Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.

Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.

Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.

“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”

Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.

And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.

Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.

You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.

“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”

Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of.

“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”

The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.

You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.

“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”

“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”

There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.

A demon.

You were going to Hell surely.

There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.

“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”

Your father?

You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.

“He got what he wanted and in return…”

Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.

“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”

It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.

You were in your room.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.

Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.

You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.

Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.

You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.

You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.

Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.

You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.

Pray.

You had to pray.

You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor.

“No…”

You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.

You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.

The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…

Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…

You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…

The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.

Why you?

Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?

What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?

“Beautiful human.”

Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.

Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely.

“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…

You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.

“I have not put you under any spell.”

Can he read your mind?

“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”

You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more.

“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”

The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near.

“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”

No.

No!

“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”

No.

You weren’t going to.

If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?

“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”

You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.

“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.

“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.

“No…?”

“Is that a question, beautiful?”

Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.

“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”

“You’ll leave?”

Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?

“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”

Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.

Tell him to go.

Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.

Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.

But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips.

“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”

You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.

It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.

“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.

“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”

Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery.

You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.

“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.

“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”

It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.

You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved.

“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”

Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life.

“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you.

“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you.

“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”

“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”

“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”

“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”

Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.

“I…what’s your name?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.

“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”

You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four.

You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you?

You shake your head.

“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”

“I am…so sorry.”

You glance at the man’s way and nod your head.

“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.

Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.

Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.

It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.

Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.

You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.

It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.

You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.

You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.

Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.

“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”

“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”

“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off.

The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over.

Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.

“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”

You’re starting to feel ill again.

“Y-Yea.” you whisper.

The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it.

Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”

You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest.

“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.

You pull your eyes away from the screen.

You shake your head.

“I can’t have this baby.”

Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod.

“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”

Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”

Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him.

You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”

The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.

You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.

“Y/N.”

You come face to face with Jungkook.

“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.”

You shake your head.

Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.

“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”

“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”

“This isn’t a child.”

“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”

You feel your throat tighten.

“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”

He?

“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”

You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right.

This time was not right.

“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.

“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”

Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with.

You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.

“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”

Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.

“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”

You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”

Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.

Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.

Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.

You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.

You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here.

You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.

There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive.

Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.

Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.

Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.

Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.

Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.

“I-Is that…”

You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket.

“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet.

“Can I…hold him?”

The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.

Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.

Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.

Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.

“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had.

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now?

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”

The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.

Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.

Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits.

Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.

‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’

You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.

‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’

PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

1K notes · View notes

byuljoonie · 4 months

Note

smut with jungkook touching himself thinking about you pls? 😭

Why didn’t you answer the phone?

pairing: dom!jk x fem!reader

genre: drabble, unedited

word count: 600

warnings: male masturbation, oral 4f, panty sniffing, bicycle position

note: sorry if it’s too short I’m really tired but…yes. thanks for reading! -dubu☆

Jungkook struggled with the zipper on his jeans, yanking his pants down hurriedly. He walked over to your clothing hamper, skimming through until he found a pair of your used panties.

You were away on a girls trip and decided to send your boyfriend a particularly alluring video of you in your hotel bed, an “I miss you,” caption feigning an aura of innocence around your suggestive message.

He quickly responded with a video of his own, shirtless, and not forgetting to let you know how much he missed your presence at home. He’d been doing fine at first, mindlessly letting his music and workouts consume his persistent thoughts. But now all he could think about was railing you until you couldn’t walk.

You were in the large bed surrounded by mounds of white pillows and a cloud-esque comforter, cutely propping up on the headboard to send Jungkook another video. You pulled your cami lower, letting your cleavage spill from the shirt. Lace bra purposefully showing through the white fabric, you told him about your day on the beach.

“Baby? What’s taking you so long to respond?” You sent annoyed at him for not calling you. He glanced over at his phone, mind too foggy to think of you texting him back.

He climbed into your shared king bed, pressing the crotch of your panties to his nose and inhaling deeply, groaning at your scent. He palmed himself through his boxers thinking of how needy you looked in the video, tits basically out and lips pouty for his attention.

“Fuck —“ he pulled his boxers off letting his cock spring free of its confinement, whimpering when the cold air met his member.

He slowly slide his hand over his length, stopping to spit in his hand before continuing his movements. His tip leaked aggressively, pink and angry against his muscular hands. With soft moans falling from his lips he imagined your pussy, nose buried deep in the center of the cotton fabric.

“Jungkook oh my god,” you moan loudly, your words reverberating around the room. He hummed against your clit in delight, hand pushing upward on your tummy to reveal the bundle of nerves. His mouth worked swiftly on your cunt, tongue lapping at your entrance. He pulled away suddenly, chin glistening with your mess.

“Grind on my tongue, baby.”

He whimpered at the thought of your pussy on his tongue, placing your panties in his mouth to get a direct taste. He lulled his head back against the headboard, stroking his cock with one hand and letting his other hand grope his balls. Heavy and filled with cum just for you, he worked to release quickly. The lewd and slick sounds echoed around the room, reminding him of the sweet sounds your cunt made.

“Good girl, bounce on my dick just like that.” He grunted hotly, hands gripping your ass as he watched his cock disappear inside your pussy. “I know you’re close, bunny.”

You were utterly wrecked, forehead sticky with sweat as your boyfriend egged you to your second orgasm. You nodded furiously, letting out strained calls of his name in response.

He pulled the panties from his mouth quickly wrapping them around his cock. Using both of his hands to jerk himself off, he vividly imagines your pretty face. Cumming simultaneously, white stripes spilling over dainty fabric.

It took him a few moments to calm himself down before his phone began to ring loudly, your ring tone. He briskly grabbed his phone from the dresser, trying to speak in a normal tone.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone, Koo?”

700 notes · View notes

kooqitas · 3 months

Text

— benefits ★ with: jjk!

#pairings: friend!jjk X reader

#synopsis: you and your best friend in a restaurant bathroom stall doing things that friends do, of course, friends with benefits.

#tags: pwp, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, a little bit of degradation kink, dirty talk, rough sex, sub x dom, maybe sex toy?

🌸 . . english isn’t my first language, so be patient :)

────────────────── ୭ ──────────────────ㅤ

“you know that you can’t scream, right?” jungkook asked, slowed down, and you nodded. “so, shut you fuck mouth, stupid bitch!”

he’s given a slap on your face, and you feel your cunt contract in his wet cook.

this is one of the many times where you make what you can't, where you can’t do, in other words, having public sex.

you were down, trying to hold the door of the bathroom, jungkook fucking your pussy like a crazy when calling of disgustings things.

but, it is sexy, really sexy! the heat was bigger because there was little space, and the fact that your best friend, hoseok, was outside.

“you won’t cum. i’m going cum on you, leave you dirty, and the only thing that you do is say ‘thank you sir’ to me. understand, whore?”

you moan, bite your lips when you agree with the terms.

“i asked something, c’mon you mouth doesn’t exist just for suck my dick”

“i understand you, sir”

he slapped your ass, making you body fall forward a little.

“you are my favorite cum slut, you know?”

“a-am i?”

you tried not cum, and this is so hard because jungkook was so good, fucking you like her life dependend on this. you don’t know if prefer that jungkook cums on you and finish this is house or if is better continuous at in the torture. good, really good, but still a torture.

whatever.

you cried, it was too much. you want that Jungkook's end with you, make a mess, you like to be used, degrading, spitting. you really can cum just with jungkook’s words.

but not yet.

you don’t have the permission.

“i never met a whole that cried so good on my cock.”

he left your wrist, just to take three fingers and put it on your throat, without warning.

you gasped, and he laughed.

“any bitch has a slutty pussy so good and open to me. you like to be my joy, don’t?”

“of c-cour-”

you can’t finish, the fingers will be so deep in your throat making you gasp again.

“fill my sperm on you. that is what you want, no? my sperm slut."

he’s said before finally cum on you, you feel the hot sperm painting you, maybe white be your favorite color.

“i will make this stay here, in this little pussy that my cock stretched”

groped in his trouser pocket, smiling when find the pussy plug and put it on you.

he turned around you, cleaned your tears and kissed your forehead.

“now, we're back at the table, baby! in the house i promise that i will take care of you.”

when you open the door of the bathroom, the first thing you see is hoseok, he’s looking at you and it’s obvious that he knows what happened.

“really? you don’t have decency?”

413 notes · View notes

trivia-yandere · 11 months

Text

paid in full

"all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired. masterlist | @darkuni63 @momnomnom writer: lyse word count: 10.116 warning: step-siblings, smut, blackmail, kissing (f on f), nipple sucking, wet dreams, alcohol intake, intake, kissing (m on f), fingering, dirty talking, praising, squirting,

“Sit straight.” your mother hisses quietly to you but her smile never falters. “They’ll be here any minute.”

You do as you’re told quietly, seething in your seat. You feel uncomfortable in the dress you were forced into by your mother and your feet are killing you - also thanks to your dear mother.

Your mother - back a few months ago - had met a man. You were less than surprised by that fact. Your mother has never not been single throughout your life. She assured whatever she or you needed that a man would be the one providing it. Boyfriend #19 had taken you to a father-daughter dance before she left him for the next.

Your father was once in the picture, but was later chased off by your mother; her claiming that neither of you needed a man with less income than her. It was laughable - because her income was never her own.

Now, the two of you are seated in a lavish restaurant with high ceilings equipped with chandeliers and classical music. Your mother is now going to introduce you to one of her latest catches - a man named Joon-sik. You rarely remember the names of such men, you would rather categorize them by Boyfriend, Fiance and Husband and whatever number they were. Your mother was married only twice, both marriages ending after a year. She was engaged a handful of times and the boyfriends were endless - and you counted the ones after you were born.

“He’s here.” your mothers tone is one of excitement and nervousness. “Stand up.”

You’re robotic. Your eyes scan whoever was strolling towards the two of you - and you’re left confused. A man is walking towards the pair of you, a light smile on his lips. He fits the part - elegant suit tailored to his size, dress shoes that you’re sure you can see your reflection on and light jewelry but not enough to be flashy.

“Who is that behind him?” you murmur the question to your mother and she only giggles in response, waving at the man.

“His son.”

Your throat goes dry when both men approach closer. Joon-sik’s son is tall, even taller than him. He stands out in this environment. Tight fitted black shirt with light blue jeans. Hi. His compact boots stood out just as the rest of his appearance did. Your initial thought was that he wore an undershirt with graphic sleeves, but as they came closer to your table, you realized that it was a sleeve of tattoos.

You gulp at the sight of the taller boy - man, because a boy could never look like him. His hair appeared soft; black and wavy. Was that a lip piercing?

“Joon-sik.” your mother cannot contain her excitement when he reaches the table. She rounds it and engulfs him into a hug, but you don’t watch. It’s difficult to remove your eyes from the unnamed man behind Joon-sik.

“This is my daughter.” your ears hear your mother say and finally you’re released from your trance.

Your reactions are robotic once more. You’ve been through this countless times. You smile at the man and bow slightly.

“This,” the man turns slightly to his son. He ushers him closer. “Is my son Jungkook.” he introduces proudly.

Jungkook offers a smile and you feel hot. His teeth are straight and pearly white and his lips appear gloss-like - not a crack in sight.

Your mother appears happy. You’re unsure if it’s genuine or if Joon-sik has a large enough bank account and will that causes her to smile. Nonetheless, Joon-sik is seemingly a nice man. He’s speaking with the two of you normally, asking you questions about your life - even if your mother does answer for you.

Jungkook doesn’t speak much but the relationship with his father was pure. His father speaks of his achievements proudly and you feel envious. It was obvious that Jungkook was not forced to be someone he wasn’t - forced into fancy clothes like you and to “sit politely” or “engage in the conversation”.

“Y/N-ah.” Joon-sik speaks. “I heard you’re applying to several universities.”

You nod your head while sipping your water.

“She applied late.” your mother sighs. “She wished to take a break after high school.”

You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your mother didn’t approve of the couple of years you took off to focus on yourself and gain work experience. But of course, this is a woman that hasn’t worked in years and opted in having others pay for whatever was needed.

“Jungkook had, as well.” Joon-sik smiles at you. “He’s actually going in the next few months.”

You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you. Panicked, you looked away.

“Oh!” your mother clasps her hands together. “You should apply to the same one.”

“It’s an amazing art institution.” Joon-sik nods. “Jungkook is into photography mostly, but he also dabbles in dancing from time to time. Paintertry, videography.”

You’re impressed and allow your eyes to glance at Jungkook. You wouldn’t take him for a man that dances, but you don’t wish to judge a book by its cover..

Jungkook chuckles lowly, a soft tint on his cheeks.

“That’s amazing.” your mother compliments and you want to scoff. She told you from her own mouth that pursuing art was a waste of time - but that couldn’t be said to the man she was pursuing.

“What are you into, Y/N-ah?” Joon-sik asks you.

“Y/N also into…art.” your mother giggles and gently taps your thigh. She doesn’t know what type of art, she hasn’t bothered to ask or appear interested.

You nod your head and your ears pick up on light chuckling.

You feel your body grow hot with embarrassment. Was he laughing at you?

“I see.” Joon-sik's smile doesn’t falter. “If you’d like,” he glances between you and Jungkook. “You can go to the same institution. I know people and getting you in wouldn’t be an issue.”

Your eyes widen and you turn to your mother. She slightly nods her head and you return your eyes to Joon-sik. “That would be amazing.” you respond.

Jungkook takes a sip of his drink and hums lowly to himself. His eyes flicker between you and your mother and he’s positive that you were nothing but a puppet and had been since your childhood; possibly even birth. You hadn’t had the chance to speak until now with permission.

“Now that introductions are out of the way.” Joon-sik raises his glass - a wine glass that had gone untouched since a server had poured it. “We have to tell the two of you something.”

You swallow.

Joon-sik grasps your mothers hands. “We’re getting married.”

You weren’t shocked at the news, but Jungkook stiffens visibly.

“And we’re moving in together!” your mother squeals.

That was new in a way. The men your mother dealt with never had children, and if they did you never met them. You moved from house to condo, apartment back to house throughout your life. But never with a “sibling” figure.

“That’s kind of fast.”

Jungkook’s voice is deep, but not shockingly so.

“It is.” Joon-sik agrees. “But I’m not as young as you, son. When you find the one…” he nods at your mother. “...you do what it takes to keep her.”

You’re uncertain how Jungkook feels. This wasn’t new to you. You dealt with your mothers shenanigans your entire life. However, you’re unsure how Jungkook spent his life. Was his mother involved unlike your father? Did Joon-sik have countless girlfriends, fiance’s and wives?

Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Y/N begged me for a sibling once upon a time.” your mother giggles. “Now you have a brother!”

You’re embarrassed once more but you don’t allow yourself to say anything.

Jungkook connects his eyes to yours. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, it’s pink and wet and you’re disturbed that you’re even watching it coat his lips.

“Step-brother.” Jungkook comments low and you’re positive it’s more to you than to your mother’s comment.

The large estate Jungkook and Joon-sik called home was massive and the biggest you’ve ever seen; and you’re seen a lot.

By the following month your mother and you had moved into the estate and called it your home.

The estate was so large that you rarely saw your mother - she and Joon-sik occupied the right side of the estate while you and Jungkook occupied the left. The two of you shared a kitchen and dining area, a large sitting area and you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom connected to your room. It was as if you had your own apartment away from your mother.

Your eyes follow the amount of cereal options displayed and hum. You were hungry and wanted nothing but a quick and light snack - you decided on cereal.

You decided on a box of marshmallow cereal. You grasp the box and pry it open, licking your lips with anticipation.

You’ve come to realize that everything in the estate was fit for a tall man such as Jungkook. The bowls are inside of a cabinet high up. You always need to climb the counter just to get it, which is what you do. Your knees are planted onto the cold marble counter tops and your hand reaches for the bowl when another one shoots out and grabs the same bowl you were reaching for.

You yelp in surprise, body turning until you’re seated on said countertop.

Jungkook stands behind you, dangerously close. He holds the bowl in his hands, eyes watching your face for a reaction.

You swallow.

“Good girl.”

You feel hot at his words, but you shake your head. “W-what?”

“Your nickname.” Jungkook mumbles. “Good girl suits you.”

Jungkook places the bowl beside you on the counter, but he doesn’t step away from you.

You open your mouth to speak, but you cannot release any response.

“You’ve been here for a month now and you do nothing but stay home.” Jungkook continues. He comes even closer and now, he’s directly between your legs. “You allow your mother to speak for you constantly. Even as an adult, you listen to her commands.”

You’re taken aback. Was Jungkook…reading you? He had met you a month ago at dinner and since then, had clocked everything that has happened in your life - and he kept it to himself until now.

“You’re a good girl that does what she’s told.”

Your eyes stare into Jungkook’s, neither eyes blinking. His words replay in your mind nonstop.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “Or do you need permission to speak?”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond to your question.

“It’s easy for you to say.” you quip. “Your father lets you do whatever you want.”

Jungkook furrows a brow.

“You don’t have expectations to live up to.” you continue.

“Good girls talking back now.” Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. “Have you ever done anything she didn’t like?”

You don’t respond but instead ponder on his question.

No, you haven’t. Your mother was strict when it came to her rules and you’ve done your best to always obey them.

“That’s a no.” Jungkook snorts. “There’s a party tonight.”

You raise your brows at his words.

“At a college that a friend of mine attends. You should come.”

You have never been to a party like that. You’ve gone to birthday celebrations and business gatherings with your mother - to mingle, she says - but never to a college party.

Jungkook watches your face twist and contort in confusion. You were struggling and now he understands this is probably your first real party - not something your mother would be there for.

“Or do you need mother’s permission?” Jungkook teases.

You gulp, feeling your cheeks redden. He was teasing you and you didn’t like it.

“I don’t…have a way there.” you attempted to turn down his invitation.

“You can come with me.” Jungkook shrugs. “I want to introduce you to a few friends.”

Seems like you need them, Jungkook wants to say, but he keeps it to himself. He never met anyone so sheltered before. Sure, he heard a mouth full from his father that he needed to become more “brotherly” towards you, but that didn’t mean his intentions were counterfeit.

“Would there be…” your words trail off and Jungkook waits for you to continue. “...drugs?”

Jungkook is silent at your question, but at your serious face and large curious eyes, he cackles.

“W-what’s funny?”

“You watch too much TV.” Jungkook laughs. “I don’t take drugs…but if you-”

“No!” you hiss with a head shake. “I don’t-”

“Relax.” Jungkook places his hands on your thighs - you're soft, he notes, bare thighs sitting against the counter. “No drugs. Alcohol and weed, yes. But there's water and other refreshments.”

You nod your head. You were skeptical of agreeing to this party. You and his friends had to be different and you were more than positive that Jungkook pitied you more than anything. But, this would possibly be your chance at a real college party. With drunk party goers and dancing with loud music - maybe even the police would come and shut it down because of how intense it would be.

“No.” your mother scoffs and walks around you. “We don’t do college parties.” she shakes her head once more. “How would that benefit you?”

You had gained enough courage to ask your mother for permission to go to a party. Jungkook had insisted that you didn’t need to because, of course, you were an adult. However, you had never gone against your mother before and there couldn’t be a reason for you to suddenly start now.

“Exactly.” your mother quips. “Instead of a party, why don’t you mingle with someone that can elevate you?”

You gulp at her words.

Your mother doesn’t dwell on the question and you don’t bother to answer. Nor do you bother to dwell on the party. You ate dinner alone in the large kitchen, not bothering to occupy the dining room.

You decided on a late night shower to hole up in your own misery. You should have listened to Jungkook when he stated that you didn’t need your mothers permission, but going against her terrified you. It peaked your anxiety that there would be a chance that you’d disappoint her.

A knock sounds at your door when you turn off the shower faucet. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer it, and Jungkook is standing behind it. His arms are crossed and he offers a slight smirk when you open the door. He’s sporting a dark shirt with a matching dark leather jacket. His jeans are light washes with rips at the knees with a pair of compact boots - you ponder if they’re the same one or a different pair.

“I’m glad you’re getting ready.”

You release a shaky breath.

Jungkook frowns. “Oh.” he hums. “Mother dearest said no.”

There’s a tone in Jungkook’s voice, you note. A teasing tone, a “I told you so” tone.

“I’m saddened, Good Girl.” Jungkook places a hand above his heart. “I told my friends that my step-sister will be making an appearance.”

You feel small beneath his gaze. Your hair is wet and droplets of water are dripping down onto the robe and onto the floor.

“I-I…I’m sorry.” you apologize, having nothing else to say.

Jungkook licks his lips. “Don’t be.” he assures. “There’ll be more parties. This one was going to be at one of my friends' homes. Taehyung is his name.” Jungkook uncrosses his arms. “Well, goodbye Good Girl. I’m having the drivers take me now.”

Jungkook turns away from your door and you call after him. “You don’t drive?”

“Of course I do.” Jungkook calls back, not bothering to turn around. “But I don’t drink and drive, Good Girl.”

Jungkook’s words replay in your mind. He told his friends about you - that you’d be coming. You were amazed that you truly wanted to go to this party and see how people your age were. You didn’t have many friends, mainly acquaintances that your mother deemed “profitable”. You only ever had one boyfriend who, again, was chosen by your mother and that ended horribly.

You dry your hair and add a product, a leave-in conditioner so your hair wouldn’t become frizzy. You take a deep breath while adding lotion to your exposed skin while watching your reflection.

An hour had since gone past and you were tip-toeing outside of your room and outside of the estate. It was quiet and the sky was dark and starless. Your feet dragged you outside the estate and towards the large gates.

You knock on the large SVU window, the tints made it hard for you to look inside.

The window rolls down and an older man sits behind the wheel. He furrows a brow at you.

“Can you take me to…Taehyung’s house?” you ask, unsure how to ask the question without becoming more confused. “Where Jungkook is.”

“Get in.” the man nods his head and unlocks the door. You quickly got into the backseat and put your seatbelt on. Your heart is racing and your eyes watch the estate as if your mother would be coming out any moment.

You never snuck out of your home before. There wasn’t a reason to, not until now.

You were a young adult and cannot say you’ve gone to a party or had a taste of alcohol. Your mother assured you that you always appeared on guard, that someone was always watching even when you assumed they weren’t.

The drive pulls up to a large estate and now you feel even more out of place than before. Loud music is playing and hundreds of people are outside of the estate.

You thanked the driver and made your way towards the estate. You stood out like a sore thumb - you wore a loose fitted button up shirt and a skirt that stopped a few inches before your knees. The party goers dressed more scandalous than you and there was evidence of drinking. The girls swayed with the music while the men stood close behind them.

Your eyes trailed around for a familiar face - Jungkook didn’t appear to be anywhere.

You were just glad to be here, even after 30 minutes of not finding Jungkook. You held your cup of juice close to you and lightly nodded your head to the music.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook catches you from up the stairs. He was tipsy when he caught your figure - the only person dressed as if she was going to the library. He had left a drunk Jimin nodding off against the wall to make his way towards you.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, a sigh of relief releasing for your lips. “I…I made it.”

Jungkook snorts. “You did. Mother dearest decided to let you leave?”

You shake your head. You lift your head higher. “I snuck out.” you murmur, a sense of pride.

Jungkook fights back his laughter. He doesn’t want you to think he is laughing at you, because he’s not. Or he doesn’t want to, at least. But sneaking out to go to a party as a young adult appears completely childish. But here you stand, eyes shining with such mischief and delight that Jungkook couldn’t help but feel your excitement.

“What are you drinking?”

“Apple juice.” you raise the cup slightly. “I never had alcohol.”

“Never?” Jungkook raises a brow and whistles lowly. “You’re actually a good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to be drunk. Five shots to be exact. You were introduced to Jungkook’s friends, the majority of them already drunk and overly friendly. They were kind to you, speaking with you as if they’ve known you just as long as they’ve known Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t hide his laughter when it comes to you any longer. You’re loud - louder than he’s ever seen you be in the last month - and you appear happy. You let loose, no longer uptight and constantly checking to see if your mother is around the corner to scold you.

Ji-ah, a friend of Jungkook’s, wraps a hand around your wrist once she see’s you stumbling off. She’s tall with a slender build. Her hair is long and dyed a rose-gold color and you envied how confident she was upon meeting her.

“Where are you heading?” she asks. She’s drunk, but has enough liquor throughout the years to know how to function just fine.

“I have…to pee.” you sigh out and Ji-ah laughs.

“Follow me.” Ji-ah keeps your wrist in a firm hold. “I’ll transport you there safely.”

Ji-ah speaks as you’re peeing, her face in the mirror to check her makeup all the while you’re a few feet away. You met her tonight, as well, but she was comfortable enough to accompany you inside the large bathroom. She talks to you; so fast that you miss a few words - or sentences. But you’re just glad that you had to experience your first college party.

You’re washing your hands when Ji-ah asks you. “What do you think of Jungkook?”

Your mind is blurry and appearing to be in slow motion, yet fast paced.

“He’s cool.” you murmur to her, shaking your wet hands. “Hot.”

Your eyes widen dramatically at your words and at this, Ji-ah cackles. She’s seated on the bathroom counter and hops off of it to stand besides you.

“I won’t tell.” she winks and lifts her index finger to her lips. “Jungkook calls you good girl. Are you a virgin?”

Your cheeks redden but you shake your head.

“Ah,” Ji-ah moans. “You slut!”

You’re taken aback by her tone. Once more, Ji-ah cackles. “I’m just kidding.” she assures. “You reach slut status when you’re on my level.”

You blink a few times. “What’s slut status?”

“Depends.” Ji-ah responds. “What have you done sexually?”

You feel like you’re under a microscope at Ji-ah’s intense stare. “Okay. How about this,” Ji-ah leans against the counter. “I’ll ask yes or no questions.”

You nod.

You haven’t done a lot, Ji-ah notes, and she’s astonished that she’s met someone that hasn’t. She notes that you had a boyfriend who you lost your virginity to back in high school, but the things you’ve done with him were limited.

“So you went down on him but he didn’t do the same?” Ji-ah hisses with a head shake. “This is why I’m a lesbian now.”

Ji-ah had heard you speak of your past sexual adventures and needless to say, there wasn’t any adventure. Or excitement.

“You need to live a little.” Ji-ah exclaims. “Luckily for you, you and I are going to be best friends.”

Your eyes widen at her words. You never had a best friend, as sad as it was.

“And I can teach you the in’s and out’s of sex.” Ji-ah places both hands on your shoulders.

Jungkook opened every door in sight, not bothering to apologize if someone was behind it enjoying their privacy. You were gone and he had not seen you for close to an hour. You were obviously drunk - and already being an inexperienced, shy and naive person, you were bound to be taken advantage of. You were exposed to this world and if anything happened to you, he’d be ridden with guilt.

Jungkook pushes open another door and sighs in relief before knitting his brows.

Ji-ah and you were both seated on the floor of the large bathroom, lips placed upon one another.

“Are you two making out?” Jungkook asks, genuinely questioning. He didn’t know you were into women, yet Ji-ah also had a habit of having women in her grasp that never went that way.

You turn several shades of red and Ji-ah only giggles.

“I was teaching Y/N how to kiss.” Ji-ah declares. “Can you believe such a hot piece of ass has never had a good sexual experience?”

“J-Ji-ah!” you hiss. You were already embarrassed upon having Jungkook find you in such a position. You were positive that he thought you were nothing but a loser that hasn’t experienced the basic life like they had.

Jungkook flickers his eyes between you and Ji-ah. He was glad you’re okay and not (seemingly) taken advantage of. You were safe with Ji-ah and now he and you could go home before your mother found out.

“Good girl.” Jungkook places a hand for you to take. “Let’s go home before mother dearest comes searching for you.”

Ji-ah frowns.

“You have hundreds of girls here to kiss, Ji.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once he helps you up from the bathroom floor.

“I was just helping out your sister.” Ji-ah scoffs. “You men could never satisfy a woman like a woman can.”

You wish Ji-ah would shut up. Jungkook didn’t need to know anything else about your sex life - or lack of.

Jungkook snickers at Ji-ah, but he turns and takes a step out the door. “Step-sister.” was all he responded to her.

You and Jungkook stumble through the door. Your mother was asleep still and that was good - not like she would have noticed. She occupied the opposite end of the estate and you and she didn’t speak unless it was necessary. Still, your anxiety of her finding out lingered on your sober mind and only when you began to drink was when you felt safe.

Jungkook opens up the freezer and takes out a large tub of ice cream. He grasps two spoons from the cupboard and makes his way towards you. Opening it, he doesn’t hesitate in digging his spoon in and downing it.

“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asks after the third scoff of ice-cream.

You nod your head, humming when the cold sweet reaches your throat. “It was so much fun. I don’t really remember it all.” you scoff. It hasn’t even been a day yet and your mind is already hazy.

Jungkook chuckles. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ji-ah and her words. You didn’t look like the type to have sexual adventures - not like Ji-ah at least. But now he finds himself wondering what you did experience - he cannot imagine seeing you in such a way. You, a shy girl who blushes at everything and has to ask mother dearest for permission for nearly everything.

“What would mother dearest think if she found out you snuck out?”

“She’d kill me.” you respond without missing a beat. Of course not literally, but her wrath would be insane. It would bring out her disappointment in you and that’s not what you desired to experience.

“I see.” Jungkook places the spoon of ice cream in his mouth and swallows. “What if I told her?”

You freeze in your spot, eyes slowly lifting to Jungkook.

Your breath hitches.

“What?” you murmur.

“What if I told her you snuck out and got drunk?” Jungkook questions, voice deep and serious. You feel your heart beat outside your chest.

“Why would you?”

You were beginning to think that Jungkook and you could form a friendship. That the two of you could be close as he and his friends were, that maybe even his friends would soon be yours.

But that’s not what Jungkook wanted - that was never his intention.

Was his intentions were to trick you into sneaking out so he could blackmail you? To publicly embarrass you to your mother to see what she would do to you.

“I won’t tell your mother. But you’d be indebted to me.” Jungkook eats the sweet without hesitation. “And all debts must be paid in full.” says Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.

Of course, Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. He wouldn’t take advantage of you in the slightest - but he wanted you to live. He wanted to see the same woman he saw last night; the woman who laughed and danced without looking over her shoulders.

Jungkook also had no plans on telling your mother anything, but in order to see the you he saw a few hours prior, he would hold this “debt” over your head.

You inhale, dropping your spoon. Was Jungkook blackmailing you?

“I-I-”

”I want you to have fun and be a normal young adult. Come to more parties with me. Hang out with my friends and I. Stand up to mother dearest.” Jungkook explains. He didn’t need you thinking he wanted you to offer yourself to him in exchange for loyalty. “Live your own life the way you want to and not the way she does.”

You cross your arms, ears ringing as they replayed his words over and over again.

You enjoyed your time at the party. Jungkook’s friends were good people and Ji-ah appeared genuine and true to herself. For the first time, you felt content with going somewhere not having to mingle and social climb - to just be yourself and have fun.

“What do you say, good girl?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I know you had fun tonight. There’s always something to do.”

You slowly exhaled the breath you were holding. Jungkook’s words were convincing and he didn’t seem to be a bad person.

You nod your head in agreement and it causes Jungkook to smile. He nods his head. “Good. Starting first thing tomorrow.” he drops his spoon and claps his hand. “You should drink some water and get some rest. You might have a hang-over tomorrow.”

A hangover was correct. You woke up with your head pounding. Details of the night before replay in your head - the little you remembered. You decided that a hot shower would have to do the trick before you swallowed any medication. You were a mess, dried up saliva on your cheeks and your eyes were puffy. Your hair was a mess, appearing more like a bird's nest than anything.

The water was hot against your skin and it was exactly what you needed. Steam surrounds the bathroom and you begin to hum low to yourself as you lather your skin with body wash.

“Good girl.”

You yelp loudly at the words. Your eyes open to find Jungkook outside the shower - a standing shower with see-through doors. You go to hide your body, but there isn’t much to hide without a towel or curtain.

Jungkook is shirtless, arms crossed over his bare chest as his eyes rake your body.

“J-J-”

Jungkook makes his way closer to you and you feel yourself ready to die. He opens the door to the shower and pushes himself inside. He takes off the sweats he wore along with his underwear and throws them aside.

You push yourself away from him, your back hitting the cold stonewall of the shower.

“You’re such a beautiful, good girl.” Jungkook’s words murmur. He comes closer, his body getting just as wet as yours. “Such an innocent girl. Tell me, are Ji-ah’s words true?”

Jungkook’s hands reach out to you. He places both of them onto your shoulders, his chest against yours. He’s close, so close that you could feel the vibrations of his chest inhaling and exhaling.

“I…” your throat tightens at the closeness.

“Have you ever had an orgasm, good girl?” Jungkook asks you. “Has a man ever made you cum so hard you screamed and begged them to stop?”

Jungkook’s words are dirty. You feel hot being so close to the naked man. Jungkook’s hands begin to travel down, engulfing your bare breast. His thumbs play with your nipples as his palms grope them.

“Such lovely nipples.” Jungkook hums. “You have such a slutty body. Good girls like you always have the sluttiest bodies.”

Jungkook brings a nipple into his mouth and sucks. You moan out, the feeling of his teeth tugging at your nipple sends shockwaves through your body.

Jungkook is moaning now. His left hand lowers to between your legs, feeling your throbbing clit. He rubs at it at an alarming pace, but you don’t tell him to stop. You never felt a sensation like this before, you swear you can explode.

“Good girl.” Jungkook hisses, his fingers rubbing your clit harder. “My good girl. Say it.”

“Your good girl.” you moan out, eyes snapping close at the feeling.

“Good girl.”

Good girl.

“Good girl!”

You snap your eyes open, jolting out of your slumber.

Jungkook’s eyes are wider at the sudden outburst.

Your throat is dry, your head is pounding and you feel a sticky feeling between your legs.

Jungkook is holding a glass of water in his hands and a bottle of medication in another. He places them down on your nightstand.

“I tried knocking to wake you.” Jungkook says. “But you weren’t awake. You were tossing and turning when I walked in.”

You cough.

DId Jungkook hear you and your wet dream of him?

You felt sick to your stomach. You were a slut - an idiot slut to have such a dream of a man you barely know. Your soon to be step-brother at that.

“Thank you.” you murmur quietly to Jungkook. You take the water in your hands, trembling with nervousness.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions. “Did you have a bad dream?”

You wanted to laugh. Your dream was a bad one - as bad as a wet dream can be.

“Something like that.” you say after you take the pills. “I feel like I've been ran over by a truck.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Hangovers are always like that.” he places a hand on your forehead and you freeze. “Breakfast should cure your hangover. Ji-ah is coming over, too.”

Ji-ah. You remember the tall beauty of a friend Jungkook had.

“Maybe you and her can make out again.” Jungkook teases.

You widen your eyes in horror.

“Kidding!” Jungkook laughs, eyes squinting as he does so. “I’ll let you freshen up for breakfast.”

Jungkook makes his way out of your bedroom, but he stops at the doorway. “You sure you’re okay, good girl?” he asks you.

You nod your head, trying to smile for reassurance but you’re sure it came out more of a grimace.

Jungkook nods his head back at you before walking out of your room and closing the door behind him. He would pretend - for your sake - to not know that you were moaning in your sleep, calling yourself his good girl.

Ji-ah lifts up a shirt to show you. “This is cute.” she says and you nod.

Two months had passed since your mother and you had moved in with Joon-sik and Jungkook. You had come out of your shell more when it came to Jook-sik. He was different from your mother’s last partners. He engaged more in your and Jungkook’s lives. He assured that there was a family dinner at least once a week where he’d often asked questions.

Ji-ah and you had become closer and you saw her nearly everyday after meeting her at the party. She would come over most nights and the two of you would talk and laugh for hours until Jungkook would infiltrate the scene.

Jungkook and you had also become close as friends. Most mornings you would come out of your room and stroll down the hall to find Jungkook cooking in the large kitchen. He would have two plates - sometimes more if his friends would be attending - set down on the island. If you weren’t eating dinner with your parents, he would bring in take-out and the pair of you would binge watch whatever tv show was on.

You tried to keep your mind at bay when it came to Jungkook. You couldn’t control your dreams, and the wet dream you had two months prior wasn’t the only one. It disgusts you each time you wake up sweating with the familiar wetness between your legs. Jungkook was attractive, of course, and that frightens you. There were too many times in which Jungkook would walk around without a shirt and it takes everything in you to not stare too long.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Ji-ah waves a hand in front of your face. “You’re spacing out.”

You blink a few times. Ji-ah has a handful of clothes in her arms - dresses, shirts with graphic designs and some crop tops and even the shortest shorts and skirts you’ve ever seen.

“Try these on.” Ji-ah pushes the clothing into your arms.

“I thought these were for you?” you exclaim.

Ji-ah shrugs. “We need to change up your wardrobe, Y/N. You promised.”

You sigh. You did promise that Ji-ah could add a few pieces to your wardrobe, but the amount of clothes she threw into your arms were more than a few pieces.

You and Ji-ah are the only two in the dressing room. You try on a few pieces, all in which Ji-ah forced you to do a walk and turn so she could see it fully.

You were growing exhausted after 30 minutes of trying clothes on. You took a seat inside the dressing room to take a quick break.

Jungkook takes a seat besides Ji-ah who’s gently tapping her foot waiting for you to come out.

“Jimin went to grab our tickets.” Jungkook says. “Are you two still shopping?”

Ji-ah nods. Her stomach churns and she stops tapping her foot to rub her stomach. “Shopping always makes me hungry.”

Jungkook snorts. “Tae’s at the food court. If you go now you’ll make it before he leaves the line.”

Ji-ah's eyes widen and within seconds she’s strutting out of the fitting room and out of the clothing store.

The door opens and Jungkook's eyes trail up to greet you.

“I think this skirt is too short.”

Jungkook hums, you have not noticed him yet. Your eyes were in the mirror. You wore a skirt - a short fitted skirt that hugs your body. Your shirt was just as tight fitted with a deep v-neck cut.

“What do you think about-”

You turn and freeze seeing Jungkook behind you where Ji-ah should be.

“I think it’s nice.” Jungkook responds. “Are you getting it?”

You feel small under Jungkook’s gaze.

“I-I’m not sure.” you respond. “It’s too…”

“Tight?” Jungkook snorts. “Mother dearest wouldn’t approve. More reason to get it.”

Jungkook stands from the chair in the fitted room.

“I don’t think I have anywhere to wear the clothes Ji-ah gave me to try on.” you admit with a short laugh.

Jungkook tilts his head. “I wasn’t going to go,” he begins. “But there’s a group performing at a club. You can wear it there.”

You widen your eyes slightly. “I never-”

“Been to a club.” Jungkook finishes your sentence. “Good girls don’t go to clubs.” he teases.

You rolled your eyes but you were offended.

“I guess I can go.” you say. “Are you sure it isn’t…to much?”

You didn’t want to be an odd one out. You weren’t one to show the amount of skin, and though your mind told you that you looked hot, you still felt conscious.

You turn to look back into the mirror.

“You women do that a lot. You over analyze everything until you no longer think you look good.”

Jungkook is behind you now. Your eyes connect with his in the mirror.

“Do you think you look good?” Jungkook questions.

You nod slightly.

“Say it.” Jungkook quips. “Gain that confidence. Say “I look good.”

“I look good.” you repeat robotically and Jungkook shakes his head.

“Say it like you mean it!”

“I look good.” you repeat, a little louder.

“Good. How good do you look?”

You inhale deeply before exhaling.

“I look…”

Jungkook waits for your response.

“...hot?”

“Is that a question?”

“I look hot!”

You do, Jungkook notes, but he doesn’t want to have his eyes linger on your breast in the reflection.

Jungkook's lips twitch in amusement. “That’s it.” he nods. “That’s my good girl.”

Those words cause you to freeze once more. Your eyes connect to Jungkook’s through the mirror. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you, but the both of you know the power of his words.

You gulp, flashbacks of the wet dream of you and Jungkook in the shower.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench at his words, but he’s unsure what he’s doing. He didn't forget you the following morning when he came into your room. You were a moaning mess, hair disheveled and voice low and raspy. “I’m your good girl.” replays in his mind over and over again that day - so much so that he had to pump his cock in the shower to just get his cock to deflate.

Ji-ah enters the fitting room loudly, munching on a large pretzel.

Jungkook and you push away from one another.

Ji-ah watches with a raised brow as neither of you say anything. You enter the fitting room and Jungkook excuses himself.

Ji-ah’s mind wanders and slowly, a smirk forms onto her lips, ideas flashing into her mind.

Jungkook downs the shot effortlessly, eyes wandering to the club entrance. You and Ji-ah had yet to arrive and the majority of the group was already tipsy. The music is loud and the lights are flashing non-stop. He sits at the bar with Namjoon and Hoseok, both men chatting amongst the group.

“Waiting for someone?”

The voice belongs to Taehyung that is shouting over the loud music. He leans against the bar, eyes following Jungkook’s line of vision. “Maybe that sister of yours?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Step-sister.”

Taehyung scoffs. “You say that a lot.” he notes. “Would it be weird if you did call her your sister?”

Yes, it would be- because Jungkook doesn’t constantly think about any of his family members like he does with you. You being his sister would mean he couldn’t jack off to the thought of you calling yourself his good girl anymore - no matter how creepy it sounded; because technically, you were asleep. His eyes couldn’t linger on the way you’d lick your lips or the slight way your breast would bounce when you’d laugh.

Damn, Jungkook was a creep. But it was only justified (slightly) because he doesn't consider you his sister.

“I met her three months ago.” Jungkook shrugs.

“True. But Y/N is always around.” Taehyung adds. “You two hit it off quickly.”

Jungkook agrees. You were slowly coming out of your shell and made friends with his friends. Ji-ah and you were growing closer by the day and he was thankful that you didn’t shut down completely with her outgoing personality.

But, that’s all you and Jungkook could be - friends. He couldn’t allow his desires and intrusive thoughts to take advantage of your shyness and naivety.

“So you don’t think of her as a sister?” Taehyung leans closer to Jungkook. “So it would be okay for me to…dance with her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes glance at Taehyung's face that’s illuminating in the light. His eyebrows are raised, waiting for an answer.

Jungkook lowly hums to himself. Was Taehyung interested in you? Were you interested in Taehyung? Did Taehyung ever make advances on you before?

“Are you asking for my permission?” Jungkook questions. “Y/N is her own person.”

Taehyung nods. “She is. But she is also someone who you introduced to us in the guise of her being your sister.”

“Step-sister.” Jungkook murmurs.

“Yes.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “So as your friend and she as your step-sister. Would you be alright if I danced with her?”

Jungkook wanted to say no. That you were far too innocent for the likes of a Taehyung - someone who had girls in his bedroom nearly every night and never settled for a relationship. But that would make him a hypocrite. He also brought home women from time to time and rarely thought of seeing any of them as more than a simple fuck.

“Do as you please.” Jungkook shrugs and Taehyung offers him a boxy smile.

“I’m going to talk to her now.” Taehyung points towards the door and Jungkook's throat tightens. He instantly regrets his decision to be nonchalant.

Ji-ah and you had just gotten through the door. You sported a short tight dress, stropping at your thighs. It was black as were the heels you were wearing that tied perfectly up your calf. Your hair was in a ponytail, brushed back so smooth that no flyaway would be present.

Jungkook feels his heart tighten when your eyes catch him and soon you’re strutting over to him.

You don’t make it. Taehyung has gotten to you first.

“What do you think?”

“Huh?”

Ji-ah has taken a seat beside Jungkook and had been for the last ten minutes. She watched as Jungkook seethed as he stared at a laughing Taehyung who tried to get you to dance with him.

“Does she look hot?” Ji-ah wiggles her eyebrows. “Took me almost an hour to get her into that dress.”

Jungkook looks away from you. “Good. I guess.”

Ji-ah sighs. “It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to her.”

Jungkook’s head snaps to Ji-ah. “Who-”

“I’m not an idiot.” Ji-ah interrupts with a wave of her hand. “The sexual tension between the two of you are killing me. I say fuck and get it over with.”

Ji-ah was always blunt.

“You’re insane.” Jungkook hisses.

“You’re insane for letting Taehyung beat you to it.” Ji-ah retorts. “But what do I know?”

Jungkook bites his lip. What did Ji-ah know? You surely talked to her about your former sex life. Have you talked to her about him? Did you have the same intrusive thoughts as he did?

“What do you know?” Jungkook caves and Ji-ah smirks.

“I know enough.” Ji-ah shrugs.

Jungkook seethes.

“I know our little good girl thinks you’re hot.”

Jungkooks eyes widened.

“But she’s far too afraid to act on her attraction.” Ji-ah groans. “I’m sure she thinks it’s taboo.”

Jungkook swallows. You thought he was hot - that was a start.

“That’s all you’re getting from me. Girl code.” Ji-ah stands from her bar stool. “Jimin and Taehyung are coming. Jimin’s fucked. I’m not going to be on babysitting duty.”

Jungkook groans as a drunk Jimin sits beside him, slurring his words.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Taehyung questions, a look of sorrow on his face. Taehyung was put to be the “sober” one of the group tonight. Jimin was already drunk and Hoseok was close behind him. “I’m taking him home and coming back.” he curses beneath his breath at his unlucky night.

But for Jungkook, this was his lucky night. Taehyung was gone and now you wouldn’t be another one of the women who he brought into his bedroom.

“Good girl.” your ears catch the voice instantly, even with the loud music. “I’m glad to see you’ve made it.”

Jungkook is behind you when you turn. You smile and nod your head. “Where has everyone gone?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Jimin is done for the night and Hoseok is on his way there.” he snorts. “Ji-ah is probably looking for someone to makeout with as we speak.”

Jungkook comes closer to wrap and arm around your shoulders. “Shot?”

Ji-ah claps her hands together, Taehyung and Jimin huddled in the corner with her. “Okay, the first part of the plan is in motion.”

Jimin nods as does Taehyung.

“I’m not really sure what the plan is.” Jimin adds. All he recalls is Ji-ah texting him to act drunk and he’s done that part thus far.

“Ugh, you didn’t fill him in?!” Ji-ah snaps at Taehyung.

“I thought you were doing that!” Taehyung snaps back. “This was your plan after all.”

Ji-ah sighs in frustration. It was her plan - to get you and Jungkook to hook up. If anything else blossomed after that - like a relationship or even a “friends with benefit” (or step-siblings with benefits) - then it’d be a win-win for the both of you. Jungkook was attracted to you, even if he would never admit it aloud. You had already admitted your attraction towards Jungkook, but your shyness and obliviousness would get you nowhere without her help.

“She’s trying to get Kook and Y/N to fuck.” Taehyung explains vulgarly. Jimin widens his eyes. “Oh.” he hums. “Is that why he was giving you death eyes earlier?”

Taehyung nods with a cackle.

“Idiots to lovers.” Ji-ah shrugs her shoulders. “They’ll never get there without my help, of course.”

“Are you sure we’re not just interfering?” Jimin questions. “I mean, they are step-siblings who have to see their parents in a relationship.”

Ji-ah shrugs. “They aren’t related nor were they raised together as brother and sister. I say they fuck and get it out of their systems.”

Jimin nods in agreement.

“What’s the other part of the plan?”

Plan B - get both parties tipsy - not drunk. You were looser when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. You danced freely like no one was watching and you were more social. Jungkook was already there but you needed to match his cool.

Ji-ah poured you two shots after shots until she noticed your flushed cheeks and uncontrollable laughter. That was her cue to disappear again into the corner of the room with Taehyung and Jimin.

“I think Hobi and Joon are actually drunk.” Jimin notes, eyes flickering to the dance floor where both men were dancing - Namjoon appearing more disorientated.

“Shit.” Taehyung hisses. “I’m on sober duty.”

“Plan B is in fruition!” Ji-ah cheers. “We can leave them be. If anything happens tonight I can pry it out of Y/N tomorrow.”

“So that’s it?” Jimin ponders aloud.

“Yes. We let them do them for now.” Ji-ah takes her phone out of her crossbody purse. “I’m telling them we’re leaving to take the drunklings home. The rest is up to them.”

“I hope they’ll be okay.” you say to Jungkook after receiving the message from Ji-ah.

“They do this all the time. Get drunk and act a fool.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry if this isn’t the night you expected.”

You shake your head. “I’m having fun!” you declare. Your eyes wander to the sea of people dancing without a care.

“You should go dance.” Jungkook says. “No one is going to be watching you like your mind tells you.”

You don’t feel nervous as you once were. Your body is hot thanks to the alcohol in your system and your mind is repeating Jungkook’s words.

“Dance with me.” you say, getting up from the stool and making your way towards the dance floor.

Jungkook follows you. The flashing lights illuminate your skin and he finds it difficult to take his eyes away from you. The music is energetic and it’s easy for you to follow the floor of everyone else's dance moves.

It was fun, you note, dancing with Jungkook. The both of you laughed as you nearly tripped on your heels and he had to catch you swiftly. You would take your hands in his and bring him closer, especially when the area became stuffed with even more people - all dancing carefree.

You’re close to Jungkook, so close that you can smell his cologne mixed with another smell.

“You smoke?” you shout at him and Jungkook nods hesitantly.

Jungkook had smoked before he came alongside Taehyung.

“Have you ever smoked?” Jungkook leans down to say into your ears, but he knows the answer. Mother dearest would never allow you to smoke.

You shake your head and suddenly, Jungkook’s mind wanders. “Do you want to try?”

You watch with curious eyes as Jungkook rolls the greenish purple substance onto the small paper. You and he sit on his bed as he does so. The club was long forgotten about and there wasn’t a need to stay when you were offered to smoke - it felt scandalous in a way.

Jungkook brings out a lighter and passes you what he had just rolled. “You can try first.” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

You’re nervous, palms sweaty and heart pounding with excitement. Jungkook places the joint between your lips and lights it. “Inhale.”

You do as you’re told, and suddenly you’re a coughing mess.

Jungkook cackles. “First time is rough for everyone.” he assures.

Your throat burns and it’s difficult to stop yourself from coughing. Luckily, Jungkook was preparing for this. He recalls his first time smoking and how he was sure he was going to die.

Jungkook hands you a water bottle that sat on his bedside table. You down the water hastily, moaning in satisfaction as it heals your throat.

“Better?”

You nod, but your throat burns still. But you’re glad Jungkook allows you to smoke with him. You watch as Jungkook smokes, inhaling the smoke and exhaling it with ease - no coughing or choking like you had. You wonder just how long he’s been smoking for but you don’t ask.

“Want to try again?” Jungkook passes you the joint, raising his eyebrows. “This time try not to inhale so hard.”

You do as you’re told and you’re surprised to find that you do not end up coughing as hard as you had.

Jungkook and you take turns smoking until the joint is gone. You lay beside him on his bed, feeling euphoric and free. Your anxiety is long gone and you remain relaxed. This feeling was not the feeling you thought being high was like - and you were certain you’d want to feel this way again.

The bed shifts and you’re finally remembering where you’re at. You turn on your side to face Jungkook, who had already turned to face you.

Jungkook studies your face. Your eyes are slightly red and low. You look tired and ready to sleep at any moment but your eyes blink constantly to not do so. You were having fun - even if it was just relaxing and not doing anything in particular.

“I’ll have to give you a new nickname.” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve corrupted your good girl image ever since we became friends.”

You giggle. “I can still be your good girl.” you say without a thought. It goes past you, but not Jungkook.

“My good girl.” Jungkook hums. He likes how it sounds, but he’ll blame his intoxication for now. “Tell me…”

You feel a hand upon your cheek and your eyes open slightly wider.

“Is what Ji-ah said true?”

You’re unsure which part Jungkook is speaking of. You’re said a lot to Ji-ah and only could imagine what she’s told him.

“That you’ve never had a good sexual experience?”

You mentally curse at Ji-ah. You almost forgot that she had told him at Taehyung’s party.

You slowly nod your head. There wasn’t a point in denying it. It had to be obvious - hell you never touched a drink until recently. How would you know how to pleasure a man the correct way or had a great sexual experience?

Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He’s silent for a few moments, possibly pondering on his next statement.

“Has anyone ever touched you?”

You release a shaky breath. You want to pinch yourself to see if this was another dream, but you’re positive that you have not fallen asleep.

You shake your head.

Jungkook halts outlining your lips with his thumb.

“So you don’t know what cumming feels like.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Ashame.”

You and Jungkook are close - so close that you can hear him breathing.

“Have you ever made someone cum?”

Jungkook likes you like this. You aren’t shying away from him in embarrassment.

“Of course.”

You lick your lips. You’re unsure where the two of you were going with this. This isn’t a conversation you should be having with him, but it’s as though you’re paralyzed.

“How’d you do it?”

Jungkook leans closer. “I could show you.”

You gasp lightly. The room is completely silent and still. Jungkook and you are even closer, nose touching as you and he speak.

“Push me away.” Jungkook commands suddenly. “If you’re uncomfortable…push me away.”

Jungkook wasn’t sober, but he was coherent enough to know right from wrong. You were clearly under the influence more than him and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though he was taking advantage of you.

Your hand clenches Jungkook's shirt and you push your lips upon his. It causes Jungkook to flinch as if you burn him, but he doesn’t dwell on his shock. He deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He can taste a bit of alcohol on you, but he doesn’t mind.

The kiss becomes hotter - more dominant. Your tongue dances along his and you can say you feel content. This feeling was euphoric and unreal - a feeling you never wish to end.

“Let me make you cum.” Jungkook heaves when the kiss is broken. His tone is needy - he was begging you. He wanted to feel you, to taste you. He desired to watch you cum undone because of him - for your first time.

“O-Okay.” you agree.

Jungkook and you continue to kiss. His hands trail lower and lower until they reach the hem of your dress. Your dress is already dangerously short so it doesn’t take him long to reach his hand upward inside your dress and feel the cotton underwear you wore.

“My good girl’s already wet.” Jungkook breaks the kiss to moan into your ear. Your underwear was soaked through and he hadn’t gotten the chance to touch you the way he wanted yet.

Jungkook rubs his fingers against your clothed clit. He needed you to be comfortable first.

You moan, buckling your hips against his fingers. You bite your lip just as Jungkook trails kisses along your neck.

“I’m going to make you cum.” Jungkook nibbles into your neck, biting and sucking gently on the skin.

You feel Jungkook’s fingers dip into your underwear. He moans along with you when he touches your wet clit - how could you be this wet already? He shivers. The thought of you being this wet excites him. He ponders how it would feel if his cock rubbed against your bare pussy - how it’d feel if he fucked you into oblivion.

Jungkook’s fingers stroked your clit. He was becoming rougher with how he handled you. His free hand yanks your dress down so that a breast could fly it. He catches a nipple into his mouth, suckling on it like a madman. He had a desire to do so since you strolled into the club with such slutty attire.

You arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook showed your nipple no mercy, nor did he show any to your clit. He rubbed at a ferocious pace and sucked and nibbled on your breast. The scene before you felt dirty and taboo - but you didn’t want him to stop. You had never felt so great in your life.

“I’m going to fuck my good girl with my fingers.” Jungkook grunts, fingers already dipping inside of you. “You’re so wet that they fall easily inside.”

Jungkook’s dirty words mixed with his deep voice is music to your ears.

Jungkook pumps his fingers inside of you. Your pussy squelches as he does so, but he doesn’t mind. The only thing on his mind right now is getting you to cum all over him.

“How does my good girl feel?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper.

“I…I feel good.” you moan out. Your stomach feels tight and you feel as if you’re about to explode. “I feel something coming.”

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re about to cum.” he says to you. “Let go. Cum all over me, good girl.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You’re breathing heavily and Jungkook shows no signs of stopping until you’re cumming.

You do, a gush of liquid squirting out and onto Jungkook’s wrist and bed. You’re jolting, cursing lowly under your breath all the while attempting to catch your breath.

Jungkook revels in the sight of you squirting all over him. You were truly a beautiful sight - so innocent and new to this life. He wants to make you cum over and over again - but there will always be a next time.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and brings them into his mouth. He licks them and sighs, wishing he could sink his cock into you right now.

“Let’s go to sleep.” you hear Jungkook say. “My good girl looks tired after cumming so hard.” he teases but you don’t have it in you to deny the slumber that consumes you.

#btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #step siblings au #bts step sibling #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #bts writing #trivia-yandere #paid in full #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook fic #jungkook step brother

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 5 months

Text

Deadline - BTS OT7 CEO AU Chapter 15

This is what I call the fluff before the fall, there are a few events mentioned here that aren't in previous chapters but are in canon drabbles/pseudo drabbles, so I recommend you read this and this before the chapter below. 4.6k words

Hope you enjoy 💜

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Seven boyfriends, seven days a week, might sound like a lot for one person to handle, especially since now you were sexually active with them. It was as if you unleashed Pandora's box but instead of a plague that kills the world, it was seven sexy men that didn’t want to let you go to sleep alone.

“Min Yoongi, why are you in my bed on a weekday?” Your eyes narrow in suspicion at the man staring at the ceiling. You just walked out of the ensuite in nothing but your robe, if he thought this was easy pickings he had another thing coming.

“Relax kitten, I just wanted to talk,” he sighs, turning onto his side so he can face you, a soft but sad smile on his face that made you want to climb into bed with him and cuddle, so you did.

“You’re not here to break the rules?” you tease, arms wrapping around his middle when he embraces you. It earns you a chuckle at least.

“Because that worked out well for me last time,” he shakes his head. “You and your rules.”

“Who would’ve thought the roles would reverse huh,” you say absentmindedly, trying not to laugh.

“What do you mean?” He frowns, seemingly confused, he was never an enforcer of the ‘rules’, that was you and Namjoon.

“Well you always went against them while Joonie lived by them, and now…”

Well now Namjoon had a new lease on life, where before he would always be militant with those broad shoulders of responsibility that carried the weight of everything, now he was a lawless man, and your biggest deviant. Since that morning you were both late to your respective workplaces, the one where he ate you out for breakfast and then fucked you against the counter, the troublesome trio became the least of your problems. Now it was Namjoon that tried to keep you up late on a work night until you had to force him out of the room. Namjoon who tried to sneak into the shower with you in the mornings, pretending he was going to behave and be good, “we’ll save water baby girl” he tried one morning. Seriously, did he think you were stupid? Namjoon who wanted to hold your hand all morning before you walked out the door for work, the others yelling at him that he was hogging you, while you tried to do your morning routine one handedly (his grip was strong). But he didn’t care, the others had gotten away with more in his eyes, it was his turn.

“And now you’ve unleashed the monster in Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi finishes your thoughts for you, shaking his head before sighing, “can’t blame you too much, it was always there.”

Too many times this week he’s had to be the level headed one, he’s sure it's just a phase but it needed to end quickly or Yoongi was going to get a headache.

“It’s been a week, why is he still mad at me and not you?” Yoongi grumbles into your hair.

“I had sex with him,” you deadpan, shrugging before you bury your giggles in his chest.

“Ah this is why Jimin calls you a vixen,” he thinks aloud playfully, making you pull back to look at him in question, did he?

“Well that’s a new one…” Your arms come around his neck, looking up at him longingly, waiting for him to figure out what you wanted without asking for it.

“No it isn’t, he just calls you that behind your back, when you’re being too enticing for your own good,” he kisses your nose.

Your cheeks burn as you scoff, ‘enticing’, what was wrong with them?

“Like right now,” he calls you out, your favourite gummy smile beams endearingly at you when you gasp in mock outrage.

“I’m not doing anything right now,” you deny, ready to bicker with him.

“Hmmmmm,” his gaze changes dangerously, eyes almost mocking you, “So you’re not asking me for a kiss right now?”

You scrunch your nose, pressing your lips together to hold back a smile, dammit he could see right through you.

“No I’m not,” you shake your head, holding your head proudly. “You’re reading into things.”

“I don’t think so, Kitten,” he hums again. “I can read you perfectly.”

This time round he accepts defeat easily in your playful little squabble, lips pressed against yours and you both smile.

—

Kim Jongin was a flirt, a shy one at times, but when the women bundled around him he couldn’t help but flirt, hopeless romantic and all. You however indulged him in no such thing, and he couldn’t help wondering why. He wasn’t serious, he was playing around, everyone knew it, but you didn’t even acknowledge it.

He even called Jimin to ask him if something was wrong with you and after about a minute of silence on the other end from his friend, where he thought the line disconnected and called his name repeatedly, he got lectured for an hour. His friend and business rival went on and on about how he shouldn’t pursue you, and you were all business and professional and … well he stopped paying attention after that. But it did make him curious. It was almost a challenge, the cliche of forbidden fruit.

“Y/n you’re practically glowing today,” he says in passing, interrupting your conversation with your supervisors.

You stop speaking for a second, looking at him briefly before resuming whatever it was you were saying. Heechul hides a snicker poorly, covering it up with a cough, not even paying attention to you.

“Aren’t you going to tell me how good I look?” Jongin presses, pout on his face, his eyes drooping in faux sadness.

You almost glare at him, and he kind of likes it, the fire in your eyes. Why did Jimin warn him against you? Surely he would want to set up his friend with such a woman, or at least keep her to himself.

“Oh Director Kim you look so handsome today,” Kyunghoon says dramatically, Heechul unable to stop his laughter this time. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.

“Somethings wrong with Y/n if she doesn’t see how handsome our favourite director is,” Kyunghoon continues, trying to act cute. You look at him disgustedly, what a suck up, and that was coming from you, the world renowned teacher’s pet.

“I heard she went on a date with Mark and then ghosted him,” Heechul stage whispers to his boss as if it’ll win him favours. “I don’t think Y/n is good enough for our precious director.”

You lost count of how many times your eyes rolled in annoyance, it wasn’t a reflex you could help otherwise you would’ve thought twice before doing it in front of your boss and two supervisors.

“It wasn’t a date,” you grunt, frowning at the paperwork. It was bad enough your boyfriends thought the same, and you sincerely paid for that. You shudder involuntarily, skin starting to heat up as you try to push the memories of those nights out of your head since you were at work.

“Someone should’ve told Mark,” Heechul mutters under his breath to the other two.

—

“Should we sell the company?” Namjoon breaks the silence in the office with words so off-kilter that Jimin falls out of his chair. The lead CEO is practically bouncing in his seat, wanting the day to finish so he could go home and see you, maybe convince you to break some more rules.

“Who are you?” Jin asks, watching the CEO with distrust.

Kim Namjoon, selling the company he got off the ground with his bare hands? Unheard of. Impossible. Pigs would learn to fly first.

“Hyung!” Jimin whines, picking himself off the floor. “Please, come back to your senses! What’s happened to you?”

The CEO shrugs, looking at his desk as the words leave his mouth.

“I’m happy,” he grins, the others looking at him dumbfounded before they groan.

“You’d sell it and then cry,” Hoseok says, knowing his friend all too well, getting back to the papers on his desk before adding, “Sunshine would kill you.”

“If you sell the company I would never forgive you,” Jin adds. “I’m far too young to retire.”

“Plus you’re only saying this so you can spend more time with Noona right?” Jungkook continues, “but could you ever imagine Bunny giving up work?”

“You’d sit at home bored out of your mind,” Yoongi grumbles, agreeing with the maknae.

“We could always convince her,” Namjoon suggests, making the others laugh in disbelief.

“Have you met Kitten?” Yoongi grins, “the word stubborn doesn’t do her justice.”

Yoongi looks up from his desk when there’s no reply, Namjoon staring daggers at his head. Oh shit, well he walked into this one.

“You managed to convince her just fine,” he accused, making all of them groan again.

“Can we not do this again?” Jin sighs, closing his eyes, if he had this conversation again his brain would explode trying to escape it.

“Please can we let this go,” Jimin almost yells, they all had enough of the silly war Namjoon was trying to begin with Yoongi. “Jealousy is an ugly trait you know.”

“Who’s jealous?” Namjoon contests, not sounding believable at all. “It’s about principle.”

“And the principle is Angel and Hyung did nothing wrong,” Jimin uncharacteristically sticks up for Yoongi, even the usual stoic CEO was shocked. “We were all dating at the time, they were both well within their rights, even if it was at work.”

Namjoon looks away dejected, knowing Jimin was right but wanting to hold on to the petty anger.

“I mean why Yoongi hyung is an acceptable question to ask, but Angel doesn’t have the best taste in men does she?” Jimin smirks, teasing him.

“She’s dating you as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi scoffs in reply, but the feeling of gratitude towards the younger one doesn't dampen.

“It’s inappropriate at the workplace,” Namjoon finally mumbles in response, making Jin roll his eyes. “What if they got caught?”

“You’re the head of the company and you didn’t catch them in the act,” Hoseok mocks with a smirk, an eye brow rising. “And you were in the room with them.”

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation, Jackson looking unusually cautious as he enters. He greets them all with a bow, approaching Namjoon’s desk.

“Depyunim…” he hesitates, putting the envelope in front of him. “There’s another one.”

Namjoon’s carefree disposition disappears, instead Jackson sees a bull about to charge, the fear instilled in him so sudden it takes effort not to move out of his line of sight.

“How many is that now?” Jin asks quietly, the atmosphere in the office now dead. The youngest three looking at their hyung’s in question.

“It doesn’t matter,” Namjoon seethes before commanding Jackson to burn it like every time before. The secretary never did, instead he always put it in the shredder and disposed of it in the confidential waste bins.

He nods, leaving with the envelope and whatever contents it held that shook the four oldest CEOs. As curious as Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung were, there was something about the murderous intent on their leader's face that stopped them from asking what was going on.

“How much longer are we going to hide this,” Yoongi says, knowing how much you hated secrets.

“We don’t need to worry her,” Namjoon dismisses the idea. He was content with pretending the problem didn’t exist, they all were. But how much longer could they ignore a mountain and pretend it was a molehill.

“Maybe we should air on the side of caution and read what he’s said at least,” Hobi suggests.

“We don’t give criminals the time of day Hoseok,” Namjoon replies. “Nothing he has to say is worth our time, or Y/n’s.”

“But he’s incessant,” Jin states. “We thought he’d give up but it's been weeks Namjoon.”

The maknaes all watch the back and forth quietly, trying to decipher what the hell was going on.

“I don’t want to read his threats or blackmail, he has no power where he is.”

“Where we put him,” Yoongi scoffs, “he’s lost everything, which means we shouldn’t underestimate him, there’s nothing he won’t do.”

“What can he do?” Namjoon yells back exasperated. They were pretending for so long he almost forgot about the whole issue.

“Well we won’t know unless we read the letters,” Yoongi responds calmly, knowing Namjoon’s emotions were all over the place. The anger was forefront, their leader usually was able to keep his cool in all aspects of his life, or at least use his emotions productively, but this was different. This made his level-headed nature dissipate, until all that was left was a man desperate to hold onto what he had, regardless of the consequences.

—

“You wanted to see me sir,” you say as you enter the office. Kyungsoo was a good boss, he was a bit scary and blunt at times but always fair. The blank expression he usually wore gave nothing away, which is why everyone who ever interacted with him was always on edge.

“Y/n take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair in front of him. The other CEOs were nowhere to be seen.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, starting to worry since his expression seemed more serious than usual.

He sighs. That one action has your heart dropping, you fucked up somehow, you must have. What other reason could he have to call you in here?

“I want you to know I usually don’t pay attention to baseless rumours,” he states, looking you dead in the eyes almost apologetically. “However there is one going around about you that has put your colleagues at a bit of unrest.”

Oh fuck, this again? This again because Jongin tried to flirt with you in front of your supervisors? You press your lips closed before you can start filling the silence with explanations, the man hadn’t finished your accusation yet. Innocent until proven innocent, you were guilty of nothing.

“A few of your supervisors have come to us with the senseless belief that you are somehow a spy for bangtan corporations,” he pauses watching for your reaction, other than your eyes widening in shock and your lips parting, he doesn’t see anything damning there. “We had no reason to believe it, except one of the managers claims to have seen you at dinner with your old bosses.”

You can feel yourself start to sweat under his gaze, for all the reasons he is unaware of. You were not a spy, but yes you had a secret, one that could not get out no matter what.

“Director Do, I assure you, I am not a spy for any company,” you say sincerely, hoping he’ll believe you. “I’m close with my old colleagues and bosses after working with them for so long, but I can promise you I never talk about work.”

He takes in your explanation with silent eyes, you couldn’t read them and you hated it. When it was one of your seven boyfriends you could always read their moods and you missed that, you didn’t realise how much comfort it brought you until now. Even Yoongi, who was dubbed a stone by your old colleagues, you could always grasp his emotional state, this was foreign to you and as a proud teacher's pet it was making you anxious.

“Okay,” he nods, seemingly accepting of your honesty.

You breathe in relief, albeit mind in overdrive trying to think when this manager could’ve seen you. You all went out for dinner recently after coming back from Italy as a call for peace between the hyungs and maknaes. The so-called peace lasted for about ten seconds before they were arguing again about who was in the right and why actions were justified etc etc. It must have been then, the table was in a private VIP booth but they were loud, the noise levels could’ve caught anyone’s attention.

You’re dismissed from the office, head hanging to the ground in thought. Do you tell the others? You probably should so you can all collectively be more careful, but at the same time, you didn’t want to worry anyone.

—

In the end, you do decide to tell them. Your downcast expression when you got home gave away that something was wrong anyway, you didn’t have much choice after the probing from the maknaes. Yoongi begged you to tell them just to shut Jimin’s whining up. They didn’t like it, in fact they went a little too quiet for your liking, but they all agreed they would have to be more careful on dates out, which led to a compromise you weren’t all too happy about but hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever the hell that meant.

When you all started dating, Namjoon made a point about renting out whole places so you could all enjoy some privacy away from the public and you had vehemently refused. It was too costly, it wasn’t fair on other people that wanted to also visit the places of your dates, and it just didn’t seem normal. Now though, you had to give in, at least to keep your relationship under wraps.

“Is it really worrying you?” Jin asked you after you were silent for a while. Both of you were sharing a slice of cake between you on the dining table, you mind preoccupied.

“Yes,” you say honestly, sighing.

“Oh beautiful girl, I’m sorry,” he replies sincerely, pulling the leg of your chair so you’re closer to him. The action has your heart galloping despite your uneasiness, you’d never told them before but it was your favourite move. In every drama you watched, whenever the male lead did that you would just swoon, and when your boyfriend did it you swooned and died.

For the first time tonight you smile genuinely, shyly trying to hide your expression as you play around with the cake. Jin can see the change in your demeanour, he wanted you closer to comfort you but he can see it had other affects. He pulls it closer even still, his face a centimetre away from yours so he can feel it burning.

“Cute,” he comments quietly, but you hear him. Stupid racing heart, pumping blood to your face, why did you always have to heat up like a volcano whenever they did anything?

He chuckles to himself when you fail to reply, mouth opening as if you were going to but you couldn’t find the words. He kisses your flaming cheek, possibly making them ignite even more going off how your skin almost scorched his lips.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, “why are you suddenly being shy?”

You shake your head without looking at him, as if to say, ‘no reason’. He laughs at your antics, pleased that he’s managed to distract you from your worries for a little while. When you finally do turn to him, you've scooped up some of the cake on your fork, holding it out to him expectedly. Internally he could combust himself from the action, but he hides it well enough, as long as you don’t look at his ears. He doesn't break eye contact with you as he takes a bite, a little of the frosting still on his lips that catches your attention. You wait patiently for him to swallow before you lick it, turning back to the plate as if nothing had happened, leaving Jin spluttering in shock, his face blushing profusely as he tries to calm down. Oh what a dangerous girl you were.

—

“Did you just lock the door?” You laugh incredulously at Hoseok as he climbs into your bed. “You know there’s enough room for more than just us right?”

You’re only teasing but he’s not all that impressed.

“After all you were the one to say that was the reason I got the biggest bed,” you continue, laughing harder when he pins you with a hard gaze.

“I’m not sharing you tonight,” he states, pulling you closer under the covers before reaching over to turn off the lamp. “Plus you still owe me after halloween.”

You’re about to answer when you’re interrupted before you can begin, there’s a knock on the door but Hoseok stops you from answering it.

“What part of not sharing didn’t you understand sunshine?” he says seriously.

“Sorry,” you reply sheepishly, making him finally break into a smile.

There he is, your Sun like boyfriend, you always found it funny that he called you sunshine when he was literally made from it. People gravitated towards Hobi, he was full of character and laughter, you would have to be out of your mind to dislike him. Sure he was a little more… authoritative at work and in bed, but all in all he was one of the nicest people you had ever met, you were lucky to have him to yourself.

The knocking on the door turned into loud pounding, making his smile falter into a stern expression. Oh you felt sorry for whoever was on the other side if they unleashed Hoseok’s mean commander persona. You remember the days working with him, he accepted nothing less than perfection, it was a trait he carried home, but it did lead to a lot of self induced stress from time to time.

“Just ignore it,” you whisper, turning his face away from the door to you in the darkness, “they’ll get the message eventually.”

Unfortunately, whoever is on the other side has a death wish, the banging doesn’t stop for a second. You can feel the patience in Hobi wearing thin before he detonates.

“We’re trying to sleep in here!” He yells with a scowl, his head pounding to the same rhythm as the beats on the door.

For a moment it seems like he’s won, the silence welcomed as he settles back into your embrace, before the sound comes back harder and faster.

“I’m going to kill them,” he growls, about to get up before you tether yourself to him.

“Babe, they’ll give up eventually,” you reassure him, pecking his face wherever you could in the darkness, quelling his anger. You couldn’t see the look of love he was giving you, despite the incessant noise and now voices of demand and displeasure (surprisingly Namjoon and Jungkook, you were so sure it was Taehyung and Jimin), both of you lose yourself to soft touches and as the sound settled, you both fell asleep.

—

“Namjoon no,” you command like he was a misbehaving dog when he stands at the kitchen doorway staring at you with mischievous eyes.

He only grins, staring at your accusing finger like it was nothing, no threat behind it at all. You were on your way out, purposefully avoiding him like every morning since his new habit of trying to steal time you didn’t have. You shouldn’t have risked filling up your coffee travel cup, but the drinks at your new company sucked, they only had machines, no cafe no nothing, you were truly spoiled at bangtan.

Your train of thoughts distracts you from your current predicament until your boyfriend takes a step into the room towards you. Your eyes narrow, his hands behind him playfully, a carefree gait in his movements but his face was nothing less than predatory.

“I just wanted some coffee,” he shrugs innocently, but you know he’s up to no good. You eye the exit behind him, calculating how to manoeuvre your way out of here when he closes the distance. You try to slip past him but he blocks your movement with his arm clutching the counter behind you. His other hand takes your travel mug from your grasp, taking a sip before wincing at the burn.

“It’s hot you dumbass,” you try to snatch it back but he only places it out of reach on the counter beside you, before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You're hot,” he flirts shamelessly, making your jaw drop and your skin crawl with heat. You were not used to this new carefree attitude they all adopted in disarming you with compliments, your heart couldn’t take it.

“No,” you draw out the vowel as if explaining something simple to someone stupid, “I’m going to be late, move.”

But he doesn’t, he just grins before stealing the kiss he’s been wanting since he woke up.

“Joonie,” you whine when your lips part with a smack, the grin he has on his face is devious as it is sexy. He plays with a strand of your hair avoiding that hard stare you had that told him to behave as he cornered you against the kitchen counter.

“So we’ll be a little late baby girl,” he kisses the corner of your jaw before sucking gently on the skin of your neck. You push him back firmly, face adopting Yoongi’s stoic mask while your heart flutters uncontrollably.

“One of us owns the company and can afford to turn up late,” you say, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“The other one had enough charm to win over 7 of her ex bosses and is cute enough to get away with murder,” he contends, the smirk on his face getting wider when you roll your eyes.

“So you want me to flirt with my new bosses to get myself out of trouble,” you say with a raised brow.

That wipes the smile off his face, he removed your hand from his chest pushing himself onto you, smothering his face in your neck as you giggle uncontrollably.

“That wasn’t funny,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I’m going to be late!” You complain while laughing, you feel him grin against you at the sound.

—

Immediately you can feel something wrong at work, the atmosphere was off but that was the least of your problems. Your coworkers weren’t being subtle in their whisperings and stares, but they were avoiding you and keeping their distance. Even your supervisors who usually confronted you about anything suddenly looked away when you saw them, muttering something between themselves and leaving before you could question it.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, why was Namjoon calling you? He knew better while you were at work. You let the call go to voicemail, trying to get your head into work mode but everyone’s attitude around you was making you anxious, your skin felt like a thousand millipedes were crawling all over it, or under it, your heart switching to fight or flight mode, ready to run. They were looking at you like… you couldn’t explain it, like you had done something awful.

Your phone buzzes again in your hand, this time a message, and when you read it that sinking feeling only gets worse.

Office romance

Namjoon : Y/n go home ASAP

Your heart was in your throat, you were trying not to hyperventilate. The murmurs around you suddenly get louder as a new figure approaches, splitting the sea of colleagues apart until he finds you.

“Miss L/n, a word please,” Kim Junmyeon had never looked so stone faced, his disposition was usually kind and gentle.

Without a word you follow him, putting your vibrating phone away in your pocket, you couldn’t look at it now.

As you walk the stares only get more intense, more curious, and you wonder what the hell was going on. Your brain starts going into overdrive, remembering the conversation between you and Kyngsoo merely days ago. Was this about being a spy?

You expect the CEO to take you to his office but he leads you to one of the meeting rooms, the other CEOs sitting solemnly not meeting your gaze. The screen on the 60 inch tv screen used for presentations was on, and paused, on a news channel.

“Care to explain this Y/n,” Junmyeon says, reaching for the remote and pressing play.

You really wished you listened to Namjoon.

#bts imagines #bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #namjoon au #bts ceo!au #bts ceo #ceo bts #bts ceo au #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #bts scenario #bts writing #bangtan au #bts ot7 au

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hobisstar · 6 months

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So delicate| jjk x fem!reader

summary: Love isn’t fun when your young lover is caught cheating.

Warning: JUNGKOOK IS A PIECE IN SHIT IN THIS OMG, 8 year age gap, dom! Jk, sub! Reader, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, cheating, after math of cheating, and that’s all I could think of. Oh and maybe a little bit of yandere.

Crash.

Was what yn felt when she got home. Oh she couldn’t wait to just crash and go to sleep after a nice hot shower. But of course, that’s not what happened.

No you see yn came home to her boyfriend, cheating. It’s not like she was surprised no she has felt this was coming since a few months ago. Just how dare he bring into their home? How could he? The he in question is none other Jeon Jungkook.

According to jungkook they were falling apart after her late night working hours and his chilling at home hours. And because not to mention yn is a little older than Jungkook. Yn being freshly 34 and Jungkook being 26, they bumped heads with that 8 year age gap.

Yn frowned upon it so so much, but for some reason Jungkook insisted that they be together and forget about the age gap. They were adults in love and that’s all that mattered to him.

Recently, it hasn’t been so much love though. Yes, it’s still there but after this, is it?

One day Jungkook was nitpicking. Everything yn did that day, he just didn’t like it.

Going to work, didn’t like.

Walking around in clothes, didn’t like.

Not holding him tightly enough when she left for work, didn’t like.

Not riding his cock until he was begging to breed her with his then limp leaking cock, didn’t like.

The last one, cause an argument. Can you imagine having an argument while being onto of your lover? After he basically cummed in you more than once? Same. I couldn’t!

But yn being yn, she tried. Truly she tried to understand so much of his recent actions but what he said the day after? Was heart breaking.

“It’s not my fault that you decided to date a 26 year old at your old age. Should’ve dated someone your own age..”

It didn’t hurt yn because she knows it was true. So her rebuttal was

“ your right. And since you are so fucking right I’m done with you. You don’t want to be with my old ass anyways so I might as well find someone who will.”

Soon, that argument turned into angry sex. Yn saying she hates him while Jungkook replies I love you and your mine.

A whole lot that honestly needed to end anyways.

But this time, you were serious.

As soon as yn heard the moans coming from what once was their shared home, she quietly walked to the room, opened the door, packed a bag, and went downstairs. She completed drained out Jungkooks yelling and the woman’s panic voice trying to call Jungkook down when all she got was a get the hell out, to that she did.

“Baby… I thought you had to work late today?” He mumbled walking up behind her.

Yn did one swift turn toward him and looked him in the eyes and smacked him. “ You… you dare do this behind my back but you got some hefty balls to do this in my fucking home? I’m not surprised. Jungkook you’ve been hinting at this since 5 months ago. I was just dumb enough to ignore them. So you know what? Stay with her. Stay with whoever. I’m done and you don’t have to worry about my grown ass any longer… I’m done. Officially.”

Yn grabbed her bag and walked passed a stunned Jungkook making sure she shoulder bumped him on her way out.

He didn’t even attempt to stop because he knew. He knew that if he did she’d never have a chance of leaving of again. She wins this time. He told himself.

Oh let chaos begin…

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #hobisstar writes #jungkook ff #jjk #bts jeon jungkook #BTS #Jungkook smut #yandere jungkook #bts au #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts scenarios #bts fic #bangtan #bts jeongguk

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bytheinaya · 10 months

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𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has a crush on you, the girl everybody wants to be like. You were usually called a good fuck by the guys in college, they weren't wrong. Jeon was smart, and you took advantage of that when you needed help in your studies, but in return, he asked you for something. It was a deal Pairing: Soft! Jungkook X Motorcyclist! Reader Friends with benefits AU, Motorcyclist AU, college AU genre: Smut, fluff. Warnings: Soft Jungkook, Dominant reader, smut, angst. !! I am not sexualizing Jungkook, the character portrayed in this story is simply a figment of my imagination, This is all just FICTION!!

(This story will be parted)

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you glance over your shoulder to find the stranger sleeping peacefully next to you. Furrowing your brows in frustration, you stand up and grab your scattered clothes on the floor, feeling a mix of emotions rushing through you. With each step towards the bathroom, you can't help but ponder the events of the previous night, wondering how you ended up in this situation. You decide to take a long, hot shower, hoping that it will wash away not just the physical remnants, but also the lingering memories. As you dry yourself off and get dressed, you can't help but feel a sense of urgency creeping in. You grab your keys, wallet, and phone, stealing one last glance at the stranger before you silently slip out of the room.

Walking out of the building and into the morning air, you take a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. The new day brings with it a sense of freedom, a chance to leave behind the night before and begin anew. Making your way towards your motorcycle, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement as you turn the engine on and embark on your journey home. Glancing at your watch, you realize that time is of the essence. It's already 5:30, and you have a strict schedule to follow. You remind yourself that you need to get to college in 2 hours, fill your gas tank, change at home, and then head off to college.

As you speed through the streets, the roar of the motorcycle fills your ears, drowning out any other thoughts or worries. The wind caresses your face, and you feel the raw power of the engine beneath you. In this moment, you find solace from the struggles and challenges of life. The city lights twinkle like stars, casting a mesmerizing glow on the pavement as you navigate through the night. It's as if the world around you is in harmony, offering a brief respite from the chaos that often engulfs your mind.

It's moments like this that offer a sense of refuge, especially when your parents are too preoccupied with their own lives to notice yours. The wind is like a friend, gently reminding you that, although your parents may be uncaring, there are still moments of beauty and peace in the world. These moments of solace provide a sanctuary from the chaos that surrounds you, allowing you to find strength in the midst of familial neglect.

As you park your bike in front of the huge mansion you never seemed to be proud of, you enter the home. It was empty as always, not even able to be called a home. The silence echoes through the halls, emphasizing the emptiness that permeates every corner. You take a deep breath and look around, allowing the memories to flood your mind. Everything was so familiar yet so distant, a bittersweet reminder of the life you once had. The weight of sadness settles in your chest.

"You're finally home, where were you all those days?" The female voice asks. It's your childhood nanny, more like your mother for you. She smiled and gently stroked your hair, her touch a soothing balm to your weary soul. You felt like you were finally home, a place where love and acceptance are unwavering. You hugged her tightly, grateful for the stability she provides in a world filled with uncertainty. As you pull away, a bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a reflection of the disillusionment you feel towards your own family "You know Liz, what's even so great in this home". She follows your lead, understanding the depth of your emotions. She looked at you with a soft gaze and said, "No matter where you are, this place will always be home. You are loved here and always will be". Her words resonate deeply within you.

You smiled and hugged her again, feeling the warmth of her embrace and the comfort of the home you had come back to. "Loved only by you, I wonder if my parents know I exist or not" You smile as you pull away, she could see the sadness glistening in your eyes. But you were cold, she saw coldness in your eyes. She hugged you tighter, as if trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world. She said, "Of course they do. They may not be here to show it, but they care about you." Her words may be a mere consolation, but they offered a glimmer of hope in the midst of your doubts. As she kissed your forehead and held your arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for her unwavering support.

You knew she said that just to make you feel better about it, but you didn't mind it. As you smile back, a sense of determination fills your heart. You inform her that you'll be heading up to your room to get a bath and get dressed, eager to wash away the weariness of the night before, though you did take a shower at the stranger's home, you felt the need to have another bath. She nods in response, understanding the need for personal space. You walk up the stairs, feeling a little better, knowing that you have someone who cares deeply about your well-being. You take a long, hot shower, and as you dress up, you felt a warmth inside of you, a warmth that she gave you. This feeling of being loved and valued reminds you that you are not defined by your parents' neglect, but by the love and support you receive from those who truly matter.

As your motorcycle gracefully pulls up at the college's designated parking spot, you can't help but notice the numerous gazes fixated on you. It's a familiar sensation, one that you've grown accustomed to over time. Your hands instinctively reach for the head helmet, pulling it off and revealing your face to the curious onlookers. Your hair, meticulously tied up in a high ponytail, cascades down your back, adding to your captivating presence. The glint of the lip piercing on your bottom lip catches the sunlight, accentuating your edgy allure.

Unbeknownst to you, a few meters away, Jungkook discreetly observes as you effortlessly dismount from your sleek black bike. His eyes are glued to you, captivated by your every move. The grip on his books tightens as he continues to admire you in awe. His heart beats vigorously inside his chest, and a comforting warmth spreads through his entire being. Despite his desire to approach you, fear holds him back. He watches wistfully as you stroll away, yearning for the courage to introduce himself. Little does he know, the whole school is well aware of his infatuation, and that includes you.

Curiously, you have never seen his face before. You are only familiar with his name, or perhaps not even that, as it has never held any significance to you. His feelings are of no concern to you, and you have no interest in getting to know him. The constant reminders of his supposed crush on you have always been met with indifference. It simply doesn't matter to you, not him, nor anyone else for that matter.

With each confident click of your boots on the concrete floor, you stride into the familiar halls of the cherished college. The usual prying eyes follow your every step, but you remain unaffected. Head held high, you continue walking, undeterred by the curious gazes around you. Your singular focus is on reaching your destination - the classroom. As you enter, you seamlessly settle into your designated seat, comfortably awaiting the arrival of the professor. In the meantime, you effortlessly scroll through your social media feed, completely oblivious to the anticipation building in the room. The modern classroom is a busy hub of activity. As students arrive, their conversations are a mix of excitement and anticipation. The professor finally enters, and the room is silenced by a wave of respect. You can feel the energy of the room shift as the professor begins their lecture. You make a valiant effort to absorb the information being shared. The professor's words blend together in a harmonious melody, and you find yourself completely engrossed in the captivating discourse.

Your grades were dropping, and it's not like you care about it. Once your parents find out, your life will be hell, not like it isn't already. You need to figure out a way to get your grades back up, or you'll never hear the end of it. They'll cut you off everything, and you can't afford that. You start to consider your options - studying more, asking for help, or hiring a tutor. And it clicks. Once the period is over, you head up to..what's his name again? However, you head up to him, and he sat in the corner, head buried in his books for the next period. You tap him on the shoulder, and he looks up, a little surprised but strangely pleased. Jungkook would've never expected you out of everyone. Your voice softer than usual you speak: "Uhm, Jungwon right?" The man chuckled shaking his head and you ponder what had been so funny. "Jungkook, Y/N" He smiles as you look away embarrassed. "yeah, uh sorry" Scratching the nape of your neck you abruptly sit down next to the man, his eyes focused on you as he closes his books and places them on the table. "It's okay," he reassures you, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looks at you with an appreciative gaze. You feel a sense of relief wash over you as you realize that you might have found a solution to your academic struggles. "I need your help," you finally admit, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. The man is shocked by your sudden remark, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Looking around the classroom, you try to avoid his gaze as you speak. "Help? from me?" He asks genuinely confused, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. Your eyes find his again as you sigh, summoning up the courage to share your plea. You nod, feeling a little bit embarrassed but determined to salvage your grades. "Yes, I need your help. I'm struggling with this class, and I was wondering if you could spare some time to assist me." The man sitting next to you in class is renowned for his exceptional intelligence. He always knows the answer to the professor's questions, and he consistently earns top grades on his tests. You, on the other hand, find yourself constantly lagging behind, desperately trying to keep up. " I don't know Y-" In a moment of vulnerability, you cut him off, intertwining your hands with his, and begging him earnestly for his guidance. "Please, Jung...uhm, I mean, please help me. I can't afford to fail," you plead, your eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination, hoping that he will see the sincerity in your request and offer his assistance with your studies. Jungkook simply shakes his head at you, his expression softening as he takes in your words. "I don't know, Y/N," he says quietly, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to see you fail, but I don't know if I can help you." You take a deep breath and mustering all your courage, you straighten your back and look Jungkook in the eyes. "Please," you say, your voice barely audible. "I'll do anything. I need your help." The man sighs as he looks away for a brief moment. Jungkook looks back at you and nods slowly. "Okay. I'll help you." There is a sudden flurry of joy filling your eyes as you leap up in utter joy. "Thank-" This time he cuts you off and says "But, you'll have to help me too..." You shoot a brow up wondering what he needed help with. "So, there's this...girl." You can't help but burst out in laughter, though he doesn't look as happy as you do. "Oh sorry, continue," You say trying to hold in your chuckles." I need your help to teach me everything you can, for me to be able to ask her out." The situation is so funny that you can't help but laugh. You can't believe that he needs your help to ask out a girl. It's like a scene out of a movie. "Fine, I guess it's a deal?" He nods. "You don't need to pay me, just teach me" You reluctantly agree, even though you're still laughing inside. You tell him that you'll try your best to help him. He thanks you for your help and you both head your separate ways. Not before trading numbers.

Your curiosity reaches its peak when you wonder about who the girl Jungkook likes might be. As you drive through the street on the way to your home, the wind hits your face giving you the sense of freedom you urge for. Your thoughts are still lingering around the mysterious girl Jungkook likes as you arrive at your home. You know about the possible rumors surrounding you and him but you can't help but wonder who it was and why Jungkook wanted to change himself for her.

As you step inside your house, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. You ponder over the countless possibilities of who this girl could be, and the reasons why Jungkook would go to such lengths for her. It's a mystery that keeps you intrigued, and you can't help but let your imagination run wild with each passing moment.

"1...2...3..." The man counts as he does his daily reps of pushups. His upper body exposed and coated with sweat. He stops for a moment, out of breath, he lays on the ground and looks up at the ceiling. His thoughts drift back to the girl who head up to him earlier in the day, you, he smiled to himself of how you looked so embarrassed when saying his name wrong. Sweat glistens off his toned body, his muscles contracting as he moves. He shook his head, chuckling at the memory. He stood up and grabbed his towel to wipe off the sweat. "You know you could just confess to her and move on with it?" A deep voice resounded in the gym. Taehyung, Jungkook's best friend, spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about," Jungkook said, trying to play coy. He knew that Taehyung saw right through him, but he didn't want to admit it. "Come on kook, helping her with tuition, lying about some girl just to be able to spend time with her? I'm dumb but not that dumb" Jungkook wanted to know you better, he wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to be able to talk to you and spend time with you. Taehyung smiled, he could tell Jungkook had a crush on you. He could see that Jungkook was trying to hide it, but he knew the truth. Taehyung knew that Jungkook was willing to do anything to get closer to you.

"Do I really need to say anything to you?" Jungkook casually tosses his towel over his shoulder while settling himself onto the chest press machine. Taehyung lets out a laugh, takes a swig of water and proceeds to complete his push-ups. "Nah, I already know what you're experiencing," Taehyung remarks with a smirk. Jungkook rolls his eyes and commences his workout. Taehyung observes him for a moment before resuming his own exercises, privately amused by the younger one's demeanour.

Tags: @ottergirl

#my writing #bts #bangtan #books #fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #taehyung #jungkook smut #jeon jungkoooook #jeon jungkook #fem reader #x reader #fluff #smut #x you #female reader

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marxy-06 · 4 months

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Favorites Fic Recs 5

Thank you to all the amazing writers <3

Kim Seokjin

Broken happy ever after (@taexual)

Of bears and bonds (@yoonia)

Switched (@i-am-baechu)

Scale (@shina913)

Kyoho (@jeonqkooks)

End of the line (@kookslastbutton)

Min Yoongi

Only for you (@beautifulfuckup99)

Fix you (@casuallyimagining)

The one that I adore (@gimmethatagustd)

Man of the year (@raplinesmoon)

Wishes (@i-am-baechu)

Set me free (@casuallyimagining)

Jung Hoseok

Flower (@readyplayerhobi)

Dinner plans cancelled (@souryoong)

Close call (@xjoonchildx)

Bloom (@7deadlysinsfics)

Kim Namjoon

My girl (@beautifulfuckup99)

Like couples do (@jinkookspencil)

Face sitting (@euphoricfilter)

B.S standards (@katnisspeetaprim)

Pregnancy insecurity (@katnisspeetaprim) NAMJOON

Park Jimin

Love Bug (@httpjeon)

Photograph (@i-am-baechu)

Wanna watch a sex tape (@gimmethatagustd)

Into you (@phenomenalgirl9)

Kim Taehyung

Still waters run deep (@btsmosphere)

Something blue (@moni-logues)

A human touch (@snackhobi)

Let love be enough (@jingabitch)

My tears ricochet (@augustbutwinter)

Goodbye (@jjksblackgf)

Wanna watch a sex tape (@gimmethatagustd)

That Irish barista (@i-am-baechu)

Race to your heart (@jjkeverlast)

Loverboy (@kookslastbutton)

Jeon Jungkook

Do it right (@rerefundslocals)

Gold is dull (@kookluvre) -> (hasn't been updated in awhile but def worth the read)

Best friends (@trivia-yandere)

Need you (@archivedkookie)

Across a crowded room (@monimonimoon)

A little reminder (@beautifulfuckup99)

University superstar (@jungkookstatts)

But we loved too young (@jl-micasea-fics)

Skirt chasers (@1kook)

Big enough for both of us (@btsmosphere)

Bodywork (@angeljeonjk97)

Deep in the woods (@angllicjk)

Angel in the marble (@venusjeon)

Was it better (@gyukookswhore)

97 (@rrjkive)

Lemon sherbet (@extravaguk)

The m-word (@hansolmates)

Head over skates (@mercurygguk)

Gun (@kooeater)

Café o lay (@taesspark)

Guilty pleasures (@kookslastbutton)

Purple car (@fruitmins)

Until my last breath (@iamjungkooked)

Don't want your sympathy (@sketchguk)

Couples shoot (@katnisspeetaprim)

What we need (@jungkookstatts)

Praising (@neo-percs)

Show you what devotion is (@euaphoric)

Pluto (@katnisspeetaprim)

Cherry candy (@bonny-kookoo)

OT7

Before I leave you (@hollyhomburg)

#bts namjoon #bts x reader #fanfic #fanfic rec #bts fanfic #writing #bts taehyung #bts jhope #bts #bts jungkook #bts jimin #seokjin #jimin #taehyung #namjoon #bangtan #bts army #min yoongi #bts jung hoseok

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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

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SX Seoul Series | Jungkook Entry 💜 Bubbles (Part 1)

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt

PARTS: [1] [2]

(You can also read it on AO3)

----

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smiled at your best friend and followed her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music was making your ribcage hum comfortably and you sat on a couch before she turned to you again.

“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nodded and watched her go as you took the space around you comfortably. The other girls were chatting, cross-checking who was there tonight and who they knew. You were used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You didn’t know them because you’d been away for a while, but you trusted your dearest friend to keep good company around.

Either way, you were there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplated dancing. Everyone else was already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd and you’d join them soon enough.

The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious jealousy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” You asked with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” the other girls turned to hear more and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly.

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if we’re the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumour is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Your best friend looked at you quizzically and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggy. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.

Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.

You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.

But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me too, will you?”

He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment Jungkook needed to grab his drink and shug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you blinking for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender retourning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here.”

It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes were focused on the drink and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed ways before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand.

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was freefall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?”

You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned the side of your face on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelope you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear and you lost your breath, sighing instantly after when he said nothing.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment.

His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply.

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth.

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. And you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the chance of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming but you had never been the brave kind, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving.

It was chilly outside but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—

Familiar dark eyes faced you back and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him.

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner covered by a parked car. Your back hit the wall and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way.

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him but he slapped them away harshly. You didn’t have time to react about it though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall.

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer, you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session.

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead, right until he searched for your panties only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you almost instantly. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, piercing his cock fully into you and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest.

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull your face to kiss him and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even focus on breathing. Maybe it aggravated him or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and bitting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you and you fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist, leaned in an angle so he could hold you firmly against the wall, and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he dragged over it and reached deep inside with his cock had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You took your hands to his over your chest and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left only with a stronger doubt.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes.

He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again but you didn't budge. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults and he followed you, there was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving 0 fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible.

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as you could only feel with him.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before when you were still together, but there was a certain magic in seeing that even if he changed, some things didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You ask in a bit of a shout as he is looking at the road to finally get on it.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to just lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. Inhale his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder maybe a bit too much; the helmet was big and he surely felt it. Palm his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where he was going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet and you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby, then inside one where he pressed the seventh floor, and even when the doors closed with only the two of you there.

Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that, and your chest would soon explode. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door and you followed him inside, cheekiness left outside in the night right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but even his space didn’t remind you of Jungkook as you expected it to.

You had only taken the step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You stepped out of the way to exchange places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed your movement to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were gripping him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him, your body was arching to expose more skin, you were taking what you could and you’d give whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before.

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth rilled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you but never moved away.

His breathing was calming down and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair under his ear.

He didn’t move, eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall in a languid movement.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed, “You brought me here so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched and you nodded. “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before going down to trace his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first.”

He backed away from you and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and stepped towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him and wondering what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing grimace — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soymilk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before laying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.

Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black expresso.

He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, having your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—

Your chin trembled but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You stepped to the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before, you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly, and for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew and it made no sense but you were still there and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took your mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower noise faintly in the background. His place was bigger now and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same grey bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile, he spoke for ages that he wanted to do that if he ever moved out. But as you took in the rest of the place, your smile broke a little.

On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to peep at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him — you wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door opening, you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel you couldn’t see, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and swollen arms, chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you, tense features on a tense body.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours soon spelled your pleasure at his whim while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.

Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just like he was taking small bites out of your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off to have some space. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

He stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes eying you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he stepped back between your legs while getting on his knees was much more in line with what you knew. Him in a praying position tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted everything. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth would move on you, how his tongue would lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted, you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centemeter right— No! Just one or two to the left and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

And he licked you faster, keeping pressure on you with his mouth that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up in your tension and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you and stayed silent, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dag at your hips. Your worry was clouding you, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back at your will until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, wet hair dripping down his shoulders, and the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck did you miss seeing him falling apart, you craved it and you’d do it.

You kept licking and kissing and as you moved up his shaft it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t come. It didn’t matter if he had given up or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as that taste hit your buds and your thoughts became a blur. You bobbed your head mindlessly, drooling over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your head but remained light as a feather, and finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.

You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled away and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine with you. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, he wasn’t rejecting you, pulling you away, or anything like that. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.

“I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you leaned to close your lips near the skin of his forehead, “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still wet under your touch, and sighed when he pressed your back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention there only.

So you hissed and sighed with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard boner. Your spit was drying, but not yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitchy moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You’d prefer he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper and your tits bounce around, then moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it.

He neared you while rolling a condom and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire bursting through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you felt full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you a second ago, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips into yours and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?”

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense, you wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard you whimpered a cry. In a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.”

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your asscheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other asscheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too rilled up to stop.

“Looking for what? Any tight cunt?” He was getting sloppy and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was.

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Come with me.”

He grunted his words before kissing you and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He was holding you to his chest as he covered you both with a sheet and you could swear that was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #ao3 fanfic #SX Seoul #kpop smut #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #smut #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts angst #angst with a happy ending #no y/n #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎

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reredaydreams · 22 days

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The Untying of the Red Fabric || Red Lace (2) || Jeon Jungkook

A story of when an artist falls in love with their muse.

Paring: Painter!Jk x muse reader

Summary: when you go to a live painting class, where you meet him, not knowing that he was an up and coming, anonymous painter, and you were about to become his muse.

A story where two artists, in their own perspectives, fall in love, in a type of love that felt as if their hearts were tied together, by a red lace fabric.

Content: established relationship, romance, fluff, 4 year age gap, strangers to friends to lovers, he takes care of you, flirtatious teasing, red lace fabric, painting, university student reader, acts of service, muse reader

Warning: this series contains mature content, 18 +

Wc: 2.8k

Masterlist, Chapter 1

Tag list:@khadeeeeej, @tinnakitten , @joonsproperty , @parkinglot-nights , @lllucere , @bangtans-momma

A low sizzling sound of the egg omelette being fried could be heard in the kitchen, as Jungkook stood there, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants while his upper body remained naked, his damp hair swept back, an indication for his recent shower. Oh god, how hot he looked, standing there lost in thoughts of his day at the beach with you yesterday, and the adventures he had with you in the car, causing a smile to naturally play on his lips.

You would have spent more time admiring his muscles and his broad back if it wasn’t for this burning fever that was causing you distress, a result of having to run back to the car in the heavy rain yesterday.

“Achoo,” the sound was heard, pulling Jungkook out of his trance. “Y/n–” Jungkook began, but trailed off as he took in your appearance. Your disoriented pyjamas, the blanket draped over your shoulders, nose red, eyes puffy while a tiredness visible in them, and handful of tissues at your side indicated everything he needed to know.

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook called, walking towards you with open arms, ready to engulf you into a big bear hug, however, you extended your arm straight out, making him pause at arms length. “I’m sick,” you declared. “Yes, I can see that. And?” he questioned, looking at you with furrowed brows. “So, don’t come near me, you’ll get sick as well” you asserted, maintaining the distance between both of you.

“And, I don’t really care,” he declared, giving you a ‘duh’ look before pulling you to him by your extended arm, and caging you within them. A whine of displeasure left your mouth, as you attempted to pry your way out of his hold, keeping your face as far away as possible. Seeing this, Jungkook held you even more tightly, his one hand making its way behind your head, bringing it to rest on his chest.

You wanted to resist, and push him away, but his warmth was what you needed right now, so you wrapped your hands around him and snuggled closer into his chest, as much as physically possible. Minutes passed, but you both remained in the same position, not wanting to leave each other’s comfort. Jungkook placed a small kiss on top of your hair, before lightly resting his chin on your head. “Go and rest in the bedroom, I'll bring you breakfast and some medicine. Hmm?” Jungkook explains softly.

You pull back, nodding slowly as Jungkook wraps the blanket securely around your shoulders, urging you to make your way to the bedroom. Once you were inside the room, you nestled inside a big, warm blanket, to try and get relief from the shivers that were going through your body due to the cold.

A little while later, Jungkook entered with a tray full of yours and his breakfast, along with the medicine for your cold. He sat in front of you, feeding you from one bowl, and himself from another. After ensuring that you had taken the medicine, Jungkook heads back to the kitchen, cleaning up everything quickly, so that he can spend time with you, while taking care of you.

When he entered the bedroom, he saw you bundled up in the blanket like a marshmallow, your eyes closed, as you sought relief from the ill feeling. With soft steps, Jungkook made his way to your side, lifting up the blanket gently, but your inquiry stopped him mid movement of laying down by your side. “Kookie? What are you doing?” You ask, though you already knew the answer, as you shook your head disapprovingly.

“Trying to cuddle with you,” he answers, giving you a puppy look, manipulating you with the cute face to allow him to carry on with his wish. “No, you can not! I don’t want you to get sick. Plus, don’t you have an important meeting tomorrow?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, but-” he tried to defend, while his shining doe eyes did their best to lure you to a yes. However, your glare made him give up his venture and oblige to your wish.

Letting the blanket fall onto the bed that he still had held in his hand, he stormed out of the room, not before giving you a very loud huff, to indicate that he wasn’t happy with this decision.

You once again took to the comfort of your blanket, feeling glad that he listened to your command, and wasn’t being stubborn. You would have loved to cuddle with him at this moment, however, his well being is your top priority, especially since he has important work coming up this week.

A shuffling sound broke your train of thought, as you turned your gaze to see Jungkook setting up a painting easel near your bed. He looked back at you, over his shoulder, “you can stop me from cuddling with you, but you can’t stop me from being in your presence,” he declared, giving you a cheeky smile, earning a chuckle from you.

You turned to your side to better admire your very handsome partner, as he went in and out of the bedroom to bring a canvas and his painting supplies from his art studio.

Your eyes followed the moments of his hands, as he performed his magic. Jungkook was an amazing painter, and his passion for the art form could be seen in his eyes, and in his body language, whenever you would engage in a conversation with him on the topic.

Your eyes would occasionally avert over to his toned body, admiring its every curve. Your eyes trailed the lines of his tattoos, while also studying the muscles underneath that were results for his love for going to the gym. Jungkook loved exercising, but what he loved more was dragging you along with him, to the gym. You were someone who likes to exercise more at home than going to the gym, however, in this case you didn’t mind much, as it gave you a chance to spend more time with him, between your busy schedules.

You continued to admire his body, before moving your eyes to his face, taking in his magnificent beauty. The little piercing on his brow moved slightly, as his brows furrowed in focus as he glided the paintbrush on the canvas. Your eyes made their way to his cheeks that you loved to kiss and at times playfully bit before trailing to his plump lips, that you so desperately wanted to feel against your own. Oh, how you wanted to pull him to yourself and make out with him right at this moment, only if it wasn’t for your cold.

“Enjoying the view, darling?” Jungkook teased, gazing at you mischievously from the corner of his eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I, when there are such beautiful pieces of art right in front of me.” you declared with a lazy smile, as a small blush crept its way to his cheeks. Your smile turned into a one of joy, as it felt nice to see that you still had the same effect on him from years ago, like the one he maintained on you.

You continued to adore him while he worked on his craft, delving into the art form that first caused you to walk into his life. You slowly dozed off into a peaceful slumber as you reminisced over the memory of your first meeting.

8 years ago, late April

You entered the room, wearing a long, sleeveless sundress, accompanied by a red shoulder cardigan, while light blue and white patchwork tote bag, with a thick, red lace ribbon tied into a bow around the intersection of the straps and the body of the bag, hung over your shoulder.

The smell of paint and wood entered your nose as you took in a breath of air inside the space. Painting easels were set up around the centre of the room, where a clothed table was set up for the muse of today’s painting section.

As the exhausting second year of engineering came to an end, your friend suggested going to this live painting class that she had found, as a form of self-care after completing the semester. You couldn’t help but say yes, even though you much rather stay at home and just laze around in your bed during your days before your internship started, but painting was that one thing that ignited a passion, enlightened your soul, and freed you from the boredom of the eversame days.

“Aren’t you excited? We are finally doing something different than having a study date!” Your friend Danielle exclaimed, as she intertwined her arm with yours, pressing her face against your shoulder. You had met her in your first year of university, she approached you complimenting your outfit, and asking about the keychains on your bag, which were about an animated show that she also liked. The friendship blossomed on the basis of common interests, and strengthened over the mutual suffering experienced in your major: you both were in architectural engineering.

“Of course! I am glad to finally be somewhere that isn’t surrounded by books.” You replied with a scrunched face, memories of studying in the library for hours on end for your finals coming back to you. You and Danielle continued discussing the internships you both were doing over the summer, and other hangout plans, before the sound of a clap brought everyone’s attention to the front of the class.

A man with purple dyed hair, stood there with a gentle, welcoming smile, small hints of dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Hello everyone! I’m Kim Namjoon, and I’ll be the coordinator for today’s session” he introduced, his smile growing, making his dimples more prominent to the eyes.

“And, this is Jungkook, he will be our muse for today,” Namjoon explained, hands motioning to the figure that stood by his side. Your eye travelled to the man wearing a loose white shirt, along with the same coloured trousers. His right arm was embellished with ink, forming intricate patterns, symbolising different meanings, unknown to anyone but him. Your eyes gazed over his bare face; it was beautiful. However, it was those doe eyes that had catched your infatuation. Wispy bangs were scattered across his forehead, giving peaks at the skin beneath. Small strands were pushed behind his ears, reaching to his jaw. His hair followed the flow of his movements, as he turned his face to look around the room, waving at the people in the room, a quiet smile resting on his lips.

Both men were undeniably handsome, murmurs of their appearance going around the room. Namjoon cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him. “Everyone, get your canvas ready, and get the paints you need from the table in the corner. We will begin in 10 minutes” he relayed kindly.

Soon enough, everyone had their canvas situated, paints ready, and the session began. Starting with shades of yellow oil paint, you began working on the underpainting. You looked up, observing the view in front of you: Jungkook was seated on the table that was adorned with a dark purple cloth, his legs dangling from the side, while his body leaned on to his arms that were straightened out behind him, palms flat against the table.

The shines of the evening sun turning from spring to summer radiated through the room, casting a dreamy haze over the world. A honey-like glow gleaned over Jungkook, his hair flowed along with the breeze that made its way through the open window, making him appear ethereal.

As his eyes glanced around the room, they stopped on you, looking warmly into your eyes. He slightly tilted his head to the side, giving you a mellow smile, which you reciprocated, and went back to painting the figure.

In between painting the canvas, you would notice his eyes returning to you again and again. You wondered why, was there something on your face? You picked up your phone to check, but you saw nothing on it. Your eyes made their way back to him, his own already on you. You notice him giving a small, inaudible laugh at your action, earning a narrowed look from you. He gave you a cheeky smile, his eyes carrying a teasing glint.

You decided to disregard his actions, and continued focusing on your painting. His occasional stares at you continued throughout the session. Once the time was done, everyone put their paintings along the wall for them to dry, and to be picked up later this week. You placed the painting against a wall in the room, taking a step back to look at the process you made, and noting what details needed to be added.

“Oh, wow!” You heard a voice coming over your shoulder. You slightly turned your head, only to be met with his gorgeous side profile. He was leaning a bit, his face on the same height as yours, just above your shoulders, his arms crossed behind his back. “It is beautiful,” Jungkook commented, his gaze turning to look into your eyes that were already on him.

The painting was truly beautiful: it was done in a red colour scale, with hints of the yellow underpainting showing through, a gold like glow surrounding the figure, while white paint traced soft patterns across the skin.

“Are you saying that because you were the muse?” You inquired nonchalantly, turning to analyse the canvas once again.

A small laugh escaped his lips, as he moved back, while you turned your body to fully face him. “I mean, it does help when the muse is also handsome,” he asserted playfully, looking keenly into your eyes.

You were about to comment on his claim, but before you could, he spoke up again. “I’m just joking, but truely, you are a very good artist,” he claimed, giving you a genuine smile, while casually putting his hands into the pocket of his trousers.

“Thank you,” you replied, turning your head to look at the painting momentarily, before looking deeply back into his eyes. “And I agree, it does help when the figure you are painting is so pretty. It makes it more enjoyable,” you acknowledged, with a bit of teasing.

A light hue of red crept to his cheeks and ears, as his brows raised slightly and the sudden remark, his pupils enlarging. His shoulders faintly scrunching up, as he looked towards the painting due to his shyness, a gleaming smile threatening to break on his face.

He didn’t know why he was feeling like this over your indirect compliment. He had become used to hearing people talk about his beauty, but hearing it come from you felt different. It was because he had perceived you as an artist: someone who could observe the small and fine details of its subject, translating it to a form that was art.

“I should get going, my friend is waiting for me. It was nice meeting you,” you relayed, a tender smile on your lips, directed towards him.

He finally looked at you again, taking out his hands from his pockets, giving a small nod, before greeting you a bye with, “Yes, I hope to see you again,” a shining look in his eyes.

“For sure,” you agreed, looking at him one last time, before making your way past him. Jungkook stood there blankly, gazing at the spot where you stood moments ago, not wanting to look at your leaving figure. He could hear you talking to your friend behind him, when something caught his eyes.

He untangled the red fabric that was stuck to his watch, holding it in front of him. A sense of familiarisation came to his face, realising that it was the fabric of the bow that was tied to your bag that had likely come off when you walked past, getting stuck in his watch.

He turned around, seeing you leaving through the door. He could have caught up with you, giving the cloth back to you, but his feet had seemed to become stationary, frozen in place. Instead he just held it in his hand, looking blankly at the door.

“Kook, I have cleaned up the studio, let's head out now,” Namjoons voice rang through the now empty room, as he walked over to Jungkook, breaking him out of his trance. Jungkook just nodded, his mind still lingering on the thoughts of you, and a faint smile played at his lips.

“Oh, what’s this in your hand?” Namjoon inquired, as the item in his hand had come to his attention. Registering what it was, Namjoon questioned again, “where did you get it from?”

“Fate”

“What?” Namjoon asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Fate,” Jungkook replied nonchalantly, turning to him momentarily, before averting his gaze to where it was before. “Fate has landed this piece of red fabric in my hands,” he explained cryptically, heading towards the door, followed by his friend who was trying to decipher his words.

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